I finally played Space Harrier for the first time and I don't get the cult around it. It's almost unparsable. There's no reason to be playing Space Harrier for fun unless it's 1985–1990.
Space Harrier and the Hang-On games weren't designed as just video games, they were designed as physical rides that included a video game element.
For example, here's Hang-On's purest form, the "Ride-On" cabinet. It's a combination of a mechanical ride AND an arcade machine! To play the motorcycle racing game, you actually have to ride the motorcycle. And this thing will tilt when you take sharp turns! If you were to remove this element, you'd still have a decent motorcycle racing game, but adding in that mechanical interactivity really adds a unique layer that makes it stand out.
But to the subject at hand, here's Space Harrier's "Rolling" cabinet. This iterates on Hang-On's design to add more directions of movement, to make it feel like you are the player character in the game, flying through the Fantasy Zones! Weaving around obstacles is much more of a thrill in this case, since your own body is also weaving around the obstacles as well. It adds that extra level of immersion that you can't really capture with emulation. Outside of the ride element, yeah it's basically a decent 3rd-person shooter. (Though it being a 3rd-person shooter with digitized speech in 1985 really made it stand out!) This is why, when I want to play Space Harrier, I need to go up to Funspot in New Hampshire, because they have this cabinet (and Hang-On as well!) and I make it a point to get the high score on it every time I go there.
Oh and as for OutRun, it's not supposed to be a racing game, it's a driving game. You're not trying to beat racers, you're just trying to get to a destination. The thrill is in the journey!
(FYI: all photos taken from Sega Retro)
Honestly I'm of the opinion that 99% of arcade games are totally dependent on playing them in the specific arcade environment. A lot of arcade games are about the experience first and foremost:
- Limited time (as kids, we were usually with family, who aren't going to hang around this location forever)
- Limited money (I was lucky to get two credits per visit on most games)
- Never played on a gamepad (a stick and buttons or even a steering wheel)
Arcade games are about relentless, unavoidable, inescapable pressure at all times. There's always a clock ticking down somewhere. It's always urging you to take action. You are never allowed to sit still, or take it easy. At the same time, a single mistake is going to make you physically lose money. At home, you can always just try again until you get past the obstacle. In an arcade, you lose, and that might be your last chance for at least a week. Not only that, but that was money that could have been spent on something decidedly less ephemeral.
When you start talking about games with special peripherals, things get even crazier. A driving game in an arcade was something that was impossible to get at home. This was a cockpit. Often you had a rumble seat, speakers in the headrest, and a force feedback wheel that would actually fight you for control.
I was in the camp of not really understanding Outrun either, but once you put it into context, it's a genuinely transformative experience. At home you're too comfortable, too relaxed. Arcade games are meant to be high stakes and chaotic, like competing in a live game show for a tiny audience. And often, they're about adapting to strange control types on top of all of that.
Even just picking up a bad, cheap Madcatz Xbox 360 racing wheel for $2 at a thrift store makes emulating something like Daytona USA feel completely different and a lot better.
Also: shoutouts to the Sega R360, the super special Afterburner cabinet that could actually rotate a full 360 degrees in any direction, matching your flight in the game. As you can tell, it was actually kind of dangerous and required attendant supervision. Sega also produced significantly-less-advanced, slightly-less-dangerous Afterburner cabinets that could still lift and tilt in a more limited range of directions.
