Spelunker (NES)

“NEVER FALL!!!”

“You can only fire when standing on solid ground.”
Spelunker Japanese box art.

In the annals of kusogē history, perhaps no other console has played host to quite so many notorious games as Nintendo’s Family Computer. And within that catalogue of infamous cartridges, there is a trio which stands out — three titles tied together by shared theming and similarly punishing gameplay. These releases would include Sunsoft’s Atlantis no Nazo, Pony Canyon’s Super Pitfall, and the subject of today’s article; IREM’s Spelunker. Now, seeing as each game puts players in the boots of fortune-seeking adventurer types – exploring the likes of ancient ruins and lost caverns – I reckon there should really be some sort of nickname assigned to this wholy unofficial trilogy, right? A friend and peer in our field – Natalie of ‘Kusoge Theater’ – has referred to the set as the “Cave Dwellers” collection. A plenty memorable moniker, to be sure. But today, I’d like to pitch my own suggestion here for your approval: “The Treasure Hunters Trinity.” A little alliteration goes a long way, I say.

Regardless of what you want to call this selection of games (if you even see fit to connect them together in the first place), Spelunker is the release which set the boulder rolling. With its December 6th, 1985 release date, it predates both of its contemporaries by several months. Not only that, but the game upon which it is originally based – MicroGraphic Image’s Atari 8-bit version of Spelunker – was launched two years earlier in 1983. And while there’s a further point to be made that all three games in this trio likely owe their inspirations to the success of Brøderbund’s Lode Runner; it’s the Nintendo conversion of Spelunker that set a standard for “badness,” and which serves as the perfect point of entry for our fortune-seeking adventures on Famicom.

Like all great treasures and antiquities, there is a history to be explored here. We’ll be doing our due diligence in unearthing the details of the original Spelunker’s development, before establishing the link to its subsequent reimaginings in Japan. From there, we’ll dig deep into the depths of the infamous Famicom / NES cartridge, and see if there’s any gold to be mined from it. Finally, we’ll examine the impact Spelunker had on the market and industry, and the enduring cultural legacy it still manages to hold. But before embarking on this expedition, we should all do well to remember the adage that “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” and try our best to approach today’s finds with open minds. Bearing all that in mind, it’s high time we start spelunkin’.

“Let’s Face It: You’re in Deep, Deep Trouble.”

“SURVIVAL GEAR TRAINING SCHOOL SURVIVAL KIT.”
Japanese magazine advert.

The story of Spelunker begins with that of its credited creator, Timothy G. Martin. Tim’s career as a game developer in the early ‘80s was as brief as it was turbulent, as he happened to enter the business at arguably the worst possible moment: Immediately prior to the industry’s [North American] crash in 1983. Having put in work across three different companies over the course of just a two year span, he would have to bear witness to all three businesses folding before the end of ‘84. If one wasn’t aware that the industry itself was in the process of near-collapsing at this point in time, they’d be forgiven for assuming poor Mr. Martin himself was the jinx in all this.

Starting from the top: Tim would begin as a designer for the short-lived Texas-based studio ‘Games by Apollo,’ where he’d contribute a single unreleased 2600 game by the title ‘Kyphus.’ Judging from what incomplete content is on offer in the available prototype; gameplay would’ve consisted of maze exploration through a pseudo-3D environment, and have possibly seen players using a series of simple commands (‘Protect,’ ‘Destroy,’ and ‘Invoke’) to control robots / monkeys. While the game may well have proven a novel entry in the console’s library, it wasn’t meant to be: Apollo had struggled financially as a company ever since their formation, and suffered a mass exodus of employees weeks prior to a fate-sealing bankruptcy filing in November, 1982.[1] While Tim apparently was not a part of this walkout, the company’s imminent closure meant that he would soon have to seek new employment anyway.

An opportunity arose as a fellow former Apollo designer, Ed Salvo, invited Tim to work as a contractor for his new company, VSS Inc. (abbreviation for ‘Video Software Specialists’). Infamously, VSS would be the developer credited as producing the pair of licensed horror movie titles for Wizard Video’s brief games publishing venture, bringing to market The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween for the 2600. While VSS had a direct hand in developing Texas Chainsaw Massacre (despite, by later admission, no one involved having not seen the movie prior to taking the gig),[1b] they were not actually responsible for producing Halloween — instead “contracting it out” to the likes of Tim Martin and Robert Barber (also formerly of Apollo). While their efforts to produce as gory a title as they could for the hardware may have come at the sacrifice of compelling gameplay, Halloween’s quality was ultimately irrelevant: By the time it was ready for release, Wizard Video’s games division was already in the process of their own bankruptcy filing, and a liquidation process which saw their cartridge stock being shipped to retailers with little more than makeshift marker-written labels. For their part, VSS would persist in the market for a while longer (until at least 1986), but would no longer require Tim or Rob’s services.

Photo of Tim Martin circa 1980.
(Provided to 4Gamer)

At this point, Tim had likely already had enough of being bounced around between doomed companies. The solution then, in his mind, was to start his own studio using the money earned from his work on Halloween; bringing aboard the likes of cohort Robert Barber, as well as another former Apollo developer Cash Foley.[3] This crew would come to be known as ‘MicroGraphicImage,’ as stylized without spaces. According to Cash, Tim and Rob were long past letting themselves be enchanted by the “contract developer” lifestyle (or the paltry money to be made therein), and only intended to return to it temporarily — as a means of accumulating enough capital to establish their own software publishing operation. Still, this did require them to put in some initial amount of freelance work; which they produced [uncredited] for the likes of Brøderbund, CBS Electronics, and Parker Brothers. In the case of Brøderbund: A meeting with company co-founder Gary Carlson during January 1983’s Consumer Electronics Show had left them particularly charmed, and would influence a later business decision.

At the same time as they were taking on these contracts, MGI were also developing their own original game — a title intended to serve as the launchpad for their planned self-publishing venture. The concept had come from Tim’s own real-life hobby of exploring abandoned mines in New Mexico, as well as a healthy dose of fictitious further inspiration drawn from the 1959 film adaptation of Journey to the Center of the Earth.[4] His vision was to “bring the reality of exploring caves and mines” into the video game format — conveying the sense of “painstaking travel through tight spaces, and risk of injury if you’re not cautious.”[5] Ultimately, development roles for the team would settle on Tim as lead programmer (as well as creative lead), Robert as graphic artist and level designer, and Cash coding the engines and tools which allowed his co-workers to do their jobs.[3b] The trio’s combined efforts and individual expertises demonstrated a major distinction from the typical “one-man band” approach to game design more commonplace for the era.

With designs and plans for the game quickly surpassing the capabilities of the dated VCS / 2600 hardware, a decision was made to focus on development for Atari’s line of home computers instead; targeting compatibility on the original ‘400’ and ‘800’ models (and forward-compatible with the likes of the ‘1200XL,’ ‘600XL’ and so forth). This would allow the studio to leverage a slew of neat programming tricks available to them on the 8-bit hardware; resulting in the likes of multi-colored character sprites, and screen scrolling performing at a then-rare degree of smoothness. The end result was a decidedly sophisticated piece of work for its time — not only in terms of scope and presentation, but also offering surprisingly fluid control over the action as well. Bearing all this in mind, the original MicroGraphicImage release of Spelunker would surely be considered as one of the stand-out titles for the platform, and seemed poised to launch MGI into the stratosphere!

… Only there was still the matter of that whole “industry crash” in effect, and the timing wasn’t really ideal for any new companies to try and take the stage. While Tim’s name may have featured prominently on the cover and title screen (as was the fad at the time to try and position developers as “rock stars”),[3c] the fact of the matter was that he and his studio were at this point still entirely unknown to consumers, to where their branding didn’t count for squat. At the same time – given the unsure state of the industry – having a strong pre-existing brand was essential in attempting to secure any sort of distribution deal, effectively barring newcomers from entering the wider retail market. And so, the original release of Spelunker was financially disastrous for the company — a letdown the likes of which would ultimately doom them. Even as critics apparently raved over the innovative game (for as few outlets even managed to get hold of it); no amount of positive press could compensate for the game’s dismal distribution deal, or begin to help recoup the costs of its production and publishing. Though MGI were still able to maintain a “steady stream of contract work,” the investment associated with attempting to establish their self-publishing had proven too significant, and continued contract gigs evidently wouldn’t be able to recover their debt quickly enough.

Spelunker for Atari 400/800 (MicroGraphicImage, 1983)

Re-enter Brøderbund, who MGI would enter into an agreement with granting them the publication rights to Spelunker. For their part, Brøderbund would ensure that the game was able to benefit from proper distribution and marketing, as well as providing the original team the opportunity to further port the title to the Commodore 64. These measures ensured that the game was able to eventually find a place for itself in the home computer market, as well as recoup its initial costs. But even with this new arrangement in place, it was still a case of “too little, too late.” By Cash’s recollection: “Eventually, MGI ran out of money and closed its doors.  In didn’t really go bankrupt, it simply stopped operation.”[3d] Even though the Brøderbund deal would allow MicroGraphicImage to cover their debts; the industry at large was still in a state of uncertainty, and the upstart had utterly failed to achieve their self-publishing ambition. At this point, the trio of developers seemed content to go their separate ways, and to leave Spelunker in Brøderbund’s hands — to further develop / expand on the property as they saw fit. It’s here where Brøderbund still saw opportunity in the title, and where business partners in Japan would help them to realize that potential.

“Only the skillfull and the grave will ever reach the hidden treasure alive.”
North American magazine advert.

By this point in time in 1984, Brøderbund had been working closely with the Japanese games company IREM; whose operations spanned development, publishing, and arcade hardware manufacturing. The companies working in collaboration had already resulted in an instance of unprecedented success, after having imported Lode Runner from the USA to Japan — where its Famicom conversion would quickly establish itself as the first third-party title (as well as the first import game) to sell over one million units in the territory.[6] Where Lode Runner’s initial Apple II release by Brøderbund had managed to sell through hundreds of thousands of units in the West – a not-insignificant number, by any stretch – its success in the East had proven incomparable. The Japanese demand for more games of a similar nature to Lode Runner quickly grew palpable, and both companies soon realized another one of Brøderbund’s existing games could potentially fill that void.

It was IREM employee Scott Tsumura (at this point in time named “Kenji”) who had originally brokered the rights for Lode Runner to appear in arcades and on Famicom, and it would be him who again negotiated for Spelunker to receive a similar localization effort. By his account of having played Spelunker for the first time, he “enjoyed the excitement of cave exploration that I couldn’t experience in everyday life,” and determined to get hold of the license for IREM come June 1985.[7] If this timeline is taken at its word, the turnaround time for versions of the game set to appear in cabinet and cartridge format would have been fairly quick — as much as a mere five month’s time, prior to their slated December releases. And to be clear, these would be no mere ports of the already-antiquated Atari / C64 program: Quickly-evolving hardware in both the arcades and at home would require uniquely-tailored conversions of the game for their respective formats. By the time both games were finished, they could not have been any more different in terms of design philosophy.

To briefly evaluate the arcade title first: Despite the “quarter-munching” reputation typically (often unfairly) associated with the format, you may be surprised to find that the arcade version of Spelunker may well be the most magnanimous across the whole lot! Where the original home computer versions had punishing fall damage envisioned from the very start, the arcade re-imagining allows you to plummet potential hundreds of feet with little more than a slight penalty to your ‘Energy’ meter. Furthermore, you’re able to grab hold of ledges should your jumps fall slightly short, affording you a more generous bit of wiggle room. And with additional elements of combat now present, your standard ‘Phantom Blaster’ (originally strictly for dispatching ghosts) is also accordingly improved, and able to stun / eliminate the variety of enemies appearing in the game. All said and done, I found myself almost immediately having fun with the arcade version of Spelunker, and downright surprised by how accessible it felt compared to some of its other variants.

Perhaps at one point in time, the Famicom version of Spelunker was also intended to carry over some of those “quality of life” features: Unused sprites remain on the cartridge depicting the player character falling further distances (and presumably able to land without a guaranteed death), as well as other indications of more nuanced control / potentially forgiving platforming mechanics. Needless to say, these stand at odds with what ultimately proved to be the final design. As if to drive home this point: The Famicom version of Spelunker was still in development as Super Mario Bros. launched on the platform; theoretically allowing the development team at IREM the chance to observe its success, and possibly crib some notes which they could then apply to their own work in progress. However, instead of following in Mario’s example to make their game more intuitive, the team reportedly came away with a different idea:

“Approximately three months before the release of the NES version of Spelunker, Super Mario Bros. came out, and it was a big hit. Both Spelunker and Super Mario are side-scrolling action games, so if we tried to imitate it poorly, we may have wound up seen as a ‘second-rate rehash.’ I thought about how to make our game different. Super Mario has a casual and bright image, and it’s not ridiculously difficult, so Spelunker tried to go the other way and made it even more difficult than the original. Of course, I intended for players to be challenged, and to have to replay the game. As a result, ‘The Weakest Hero’ was born (laughing).” ~ Scott Tsumura[5b]

Bearing this apparently newly-determined direction in mind, IREM’s team committed to emphasizing Spelunker’s difficulty — possibly resulting in the decision to walk back the conveniences added with the arcade version. Oh, I realize I should probably clarify here: When I say “IREM’s team” in this case, we’re referring to none other than the Family Computer’s favorite ghost developer: The Tose Corporation. Because whenever you hear someone discuss third-party Famicom titles in 1985, chances are more likely than not that they’re talking about something that Tose had a hand in. And so, while Scott / IREM staff may well have had a vision for Spelunker in their heads, it was Tose who were tasked with committing those visions to tangible code. And so, when I read quotes claiming that there was some deliberate decision by IREM to make the game more challenging — implying that the clunky controls and ill-advised designs were all intentional? I can only raise an eyebrow in skepticism, while furrowing the other in remembrance of some other similarly frustrating games in Tose’s Famicom catalogue.

The final product, in either case, would stand alone from both its arcade and original Atari 400/800 counterparts: A game built around the same premise and mechanics, but with its own unique level design, and higher expectations placed on players… if the developers’ quotes in the years since are to be taken at face value, anyway. Clearly, we’ll have to dig deeper into this assertion that the Famicom’s conversion of Spelunker had been intended as a punishing challenge from the start. And as it just so happens, we’re already ready at this point to dig through to the very core of the game itself.

In a previous article covering Friday the 13th on NES, we covered this pair of horror cartridges in a bit more depth. This is likely as much detail as we’ll ever get into on these particular games, as it’s difficult to justify either [or both] of them getting the “full article” treatment… unless they maybe appear in one of our list / roundup style articles. Hmm, you know what? Stick a pin in that one for now.
I tried to find any evidence that MicroGraphicImage’s original release of Spelunker had actually been reviewed by any of the notable magazines of the era (ANALOG, Antic, or whoever else have you), but to no avail. I could find the title listed as part of broader product catalogues [at a price point of $31.95], but never covered in any form of feature or review.

“Use the ‘B’ Button to Fire Your Phantom Blaster.”

“The deeper you descend, the more difficult and dangerous the challenge.”
Spelunker North American box art.

Spelunker doesn’t concern itself with matters of plot or defined protagonist. And why should it? The proceedings of the game don’t deal with any quest to save the world, or a hero out to save his sweetheart from the clutches of villains: You are but a fortune-seeker, seeking to claim buried riches — a so-called “spelunker,” whose expertise deals in in the disruption of darkened caverns. Your motivation is little more than the rumor of a pyramid buried within the depths, rumored to contain “riches beyond your wildest dreams” within. And what is it that stands in the way of our intrepid explorer and this unclaimed treasure? Why, only the ghosts of previous failed expeditioners, and all the other hazards inherent to navigating treacherous cave systems in the dark. Combine these dangers with a player character whose frailty can be compared to the flimsiest of fine china, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for adventure!

For what it’s worth, this basic-most premise with its lack of detailed particulars (which can be applied to every version of the game) was still suited just fine for the time. The original Pitfall! did plenty well for itself in 1982, having done little more than named its hero ‘Harry’ and sent him on his treasure-hunting way. Lode Runner a year later scored passing grade with a nonsense one-paragraph blurb in its manual about a ‘Galactic Commando’ recovering gold from a ‘Bungeling Empire’ — apparently accrued by means of “excessive fast food taxes.” And in the two years that followed on the Family Computer, the self-titled Ice Climbers, Wrecking Crew, and even the Mario Bros. themselves didn’t need further motivations beyond their respective occupations; and players needed little more than the pursuit of high score, for their part. At the very least, Spelunker does separate itself from much of the pack by actually offering something like an “ending” — a congratulatory screen for reaching your goal. But more on that later.

Spelunker’s core gameplay on Nintendo hardware is much the same as it was on Atari’s (and to a lesser extent, in arcades): You begin your cave-dwelling adventure on a controllable elevator, where you can choose to disembark down a number of available tunnels. Whether or not a given floor will lead you to item pick-ups, collectible treasures, or progress deeper into the caverns; you won’t know until you’ve explored them all thoroughly. The only sure thing is that every path is laden with some number of traps and hazards: The likes of collapsing floors, steam-spewing geysers, and rocks which send you stumbling backwards when tripped; all designed to catch you off-guard and exploit your impatience. Of course, if you play things too slow and safe, you’ll instead find yourself depleted of your dwindling oxygen supply, acting as a countdown timer for each of your limited lives. Clearly, the odds here are not in your favor — even before we begin to mention our “Spelunker Dude’s” nasty habit of easily dying. But again I say, more on that later.

So, what extraordinary feats can our “hero” perform to try and turn the tide here? Well, I guess he’s got a half-decent jump? He can also climb up and down ropes, as well as leap from them. Say what you will about how much a “given” those functions may be in games, but when’s the last time you pulled off a six foot vertical leap and grabbed hold of a dangling cable? In any case, if you’re asking for abilities outside of the very basics of video game movement, there’s effectively three: A ‘Phantom Blaster’ for deterring approaching ghosts, bombs that can be placed to blow up impeding rocks (as well as some secret walls), and flares that can be fired into the air to temporarily scare off guano-bombing bats. Limited though this range of inputs may seem, it is more than sufficient for overcoming all the obstacles the caves may place in your way — just so long as you keep your tools in plentiful stock, of course.

Through exploration, you’ll figure out that the caverns can be divided into four distinct sections; indicated here on the Famicom by large statue heads, and originally given distinct names on loading screens present in the original Atari version. The first area is described as / signified by its ‘Elevator,’ the second features an added emphasis on jumping between ‘Ropes,’ a third showcases a pair of water-related hazards [referred to as the ‘Shaft’], and the final fourth is built around the legendary ‘Pyramid.’ Ultimately though, you’ll find that these assigned titles (with the exception of the Pyramid) are fairly pointless; as levels past the first will still see you using elevators, ropes remain ever-present through the whole game, and as you can describe any of the deeper holes in the cavern as a “shaft” if you wanted to. What’s more vital in dividing [and surviving] these different segments is collecting the keys within them, so that you can open the locked doors that bar you from entering into the next.

Keys come in flavors of red and blue, and are typically tucked away in alcoves at the ends of more challenging tunnels. For the most part, they’re hard to miss, so long as you’re checking every floor and pathway in your exploration. More likely than not, you’ll probably be able to commit all the keys’ locations to memory after only your first successful playthrough. And even if you do struggle to retain that sort of knowledge, the environment is generally easy enough to read / sculpted in such a way as to telegraph where the keys lay in wait. Similarly, there are also a small number of secret items and treasures for you to discover, which are generally hinted at through further contextual clues: Hidden faces in the walls, atypical rock formations, and dead ends with no other discernible reason for being. In these instances, you can try jumping in place to see if a mystery item will appear nearby; the likes of 1-Ups, score multipliers, inventory replenishment, or temporary speed-boosts and invincibility. Alternatively, you might try bombing suspect walls to see if there’s treasure buried beneath, serving to significantly boost your score. Just don’t stand too close to your explosives, or you’ll get taken out by the blast too.

Say, speaking of threats to your health and safety: Let’s go over just a few of the many ways you can die in Spelunker! As mentioned, you can’t be too careful around your own bombs. But you’ll also have to watch out for your flares as well, as they’re liable to scorch you on their way back down. Still, that might be better than “death by falling poop,” which you might well suffer standing beneath the various bats inhabiting the caves. Similarly, those ghosts will quickly convert you to one of their own, should they happen to come in contact. Don’t try hiding in the water, either, as our spelunker certainly shouldn’t be expected to know how to swim. As a matter of fact, don’t expect him to know how to safely get on and off elevators and moving platforms, either — not without the utmost caution and carefulness. Same goes for if you should happen to fall into any open holes. And of course, when I say “hole,” I’m not just talking the bottomless variety: I’m talking any sort of minor divot in the floor — shallow pits that a more practical protagonist could easily climb out of.

It is here where Spelunker gets its reputation as one of the most difficult games of its era, and its protagonist earns his title as “The Weakest Action Hero in the History of Video Games” (according to his own creators / rights holders). It will not take long for a player long to discover that our spelunker cannot survive drops taller than his own height; where he will die in mid-air the moment that threshold is crossed, before he even has a chance to hit the ground. What this means in execution is that the most slight of height differentials – a handful of pixels difference between one platform and the next – is apparently enough to crush our protagonist’s bones to dust. In descending the game’s many shafts, stairs, and even slight slopes; you must take the utmost care to never errantly jump, drop too far, or dare skip a single step. This is before we’ve even begun to get into the “platforming” proper, if you’ll notice. Here in Spelunker, the very basics of movement are a deadly challenge in and of themselves.

When it comes time to perform feats of platforming – jumping for distance and/or with expert timing – the challenge sharply intensifies. Jumping between platforms may not quite require “pixel perfect” positioning, but it’s still a fairly narrow window you’re allotted. More frequently than you might expect, you’ll fall short and get stuck inside the edge of your intended landing platform, and find yourself unfortunately unable to climb or jump back up to safety. The same can occasionally happen when falling into the many pits which dot your path; where you’ll catch on their edge – thinking you’ve stopped short of falling to your death – only to ultimately realize that you can’t jump your way back out. At least when trap floors collapse underneath you, they typically don’t prolong the inevitable. Learning to recognize these pits and disappearing floors from a distance is important, as they’ll often be flanked by smaller protruding rocks, which will bounce you backward on contact [and likely to your death].

But the pinnacle of this unforgiving platforming comes with climbing ropes and ladders. It’s here where the game demands the most frustratingly precise control on the part of players, to the point where there is clearly something broken in how they’re implemented here. See, to jump off of a rope or ladder, you’ll have to hold either left or right on the D-pad in order to specify which direction you want to leap toward when you press the ‘A’ button. At the same time, there’s also a small bit of “wiggle room” while climbing, where you can tap left or right to slightly shift your position on the rungs. And at the same time as all that, it’s actually possible to let go / fall off of what you’re climbing by holding left or right for too long — no more than a fifth of a second’s time. Combine these three factors together, and you’re left with a completely busted mechanic; where jumping off of any given rope or ladder ends up requiring near frame-perfect timing, lest you accidentally let go and fall to your death. What makes this all the more frustrating is the fact that unused sprites indicate an intended animation for leaning off to either side while climbing — where holding left or right may not have originally sent you plummeting.

It’s at this point that a player may realize that Spelunker’s difficulty is derived almost entirely from its inadequate controls, rather than any particularly complex platforming challenges. There’s little in the way of elaborate platform puzzles or tricky timing to be mastered, and there are barely even any enemies to throw wrenches into the works. It really is just the very fundamentals of video game platforming on display here, but with a player character made to feel utterly unequipped to handle them. In any other game, with more responsive or forgiving controls, Spelunker’s caverns would be a simple cakewalk. That leaves me wondering how much of this is by design — if IREM / Tose’s method for making the game “more difficult” came down to deliberately sandbagging the controls in some way? Were the originally more intuitive animations and movement planned with the level layouts already in place, until someone realized that there was almost nothing to the game in terms of challenge? And on that note: What would happen if someone should actually manage to master the controls, in spite of their inherent clunkiness?

If you sit down with the game for long enough, you do begin to get a feel for its… “specific” way of controlling. You can grow accustomed to the basic movement, learn to avoid that nasty fall damage, and even find a rhythm for jumping from rope to rope. At a certain point along the way, you’ll likely learn to read the environments as well, in order to predict where the floors will collapse or how the game otherwise intends to trip you up. And once you have that grip on things – when you’ve managed to master control over our hapless spelunker – you’ll come to a grand realization: Spelunker on Famicom still isn’t very good, as it turns out. In fact, you’ll find that the game is actually pretty boring once you’re able to overcome the control hurdle, and that its level design really is as basic as basic can be. In pretty much every way, it’s a major downgrade from the Atari 400/800 original, which was a legitimately challenging and complex game in its time.

I don’t reckon I had much space to say it earlier, but I can make my point here and now: The original Atari version of Spelunker represented massive step forwards in platformer design years before the rest of the industry caught up, and was probably one of the better-playing games to ever release on the system. Personally, it’s probably my favorite game in the whole system library, and that’s coming from someone who’s generally not a fan of platformers. MicroGraphicImage managed to craft a sprawling game world, pack it to the brim with novel mechanics and moving parts, as well as densely populate it with both obstacles and collectibles; all without making it “maze-like” or too overcomplicated in its design. And so, the difficulty there came from navigating your character through these more elaborate challenges — weaving between mixes of moving platforms, spouting geysers, and bat droppings all at the same time. It may well have been tough, but never unfair: Your controls were more than sufficient for the job at hand, and there was at least some flexibility offered in your approaches.

In comparing all this to the likes of the Nintendo conversion, there’s basically no contest. IREM’s reimagining of Spelunker simply pales in depth, between its condensed map and sparsely-populated screens. To be clear here: While the Famicom version of Spelunker loosely bases its stages and obstacle courses on MGI’s original source material, it does so within a far smaller scope. While both games present themselves with similarly smooth vertical scrolling and horizontal screen-flipping (effectively drawing a dividing line down the center of the map), the differences in scale between the two still wind up staggering. For reasons likely coming down to cartridge limitations, the Nintendo’s version of Spelunker condenses the caverns to nearly half their original size by ridding itself of most “optional” floors and tunnels — streamlining the experience to the point of near linearity. Not only is there so much more space to be explored in the Atari version, but there’s also that much more to do within it.

Screens in the original game which would have been populated with multiple simultaneous hazards are simplified significantly for Nintendo’s hardware, to the point where the most “complex” scenes still amount to single timing-based obstacles (such as the geysers or bats) in otherwise static rooms. There’s also the matter of hazards outright missing in this version of the game; including sinking and rising pillars, variations on the geysers, disappearing / reappearing floating platforms, and pockets of poisonous gas that linger in the air. Evidently, there simply wasn’t the capacity to include all these on the cartridge format, and so IREM / Tose’s programmers had to make due with what they could. At the same time though, they fail to effectively utilize what props and hazards they do have at the ready, where they could have used more of them in conjunction with one another to create more dynamic platforming puzzles.

There’s a general sense of “wasteful” design which permeates the whole of the experience on Famicom; where stretches of the game often feel empty, and where the assets available to the designers aren’t utilized to their fullest potential. In example: In a briefly-appearing feature originating in the Atari version of the game, there’s a minecart you can pilot through a tunnel lined with ceiling geysers, where stopping and observing timing is essential for making it to the end. And just like in the original game, this minecart mechanic only appears once — on a single floor, in one brief instance. Now, it’s fair here to criticize the original game for not re-incorporating this novel feature across other sections of the game, and having gone through all the trouble of designing it just to throw it away after one appearance. But when it comes to the Famicom version of the game – which already takes major liberties in reimagining the original – the decision to not do anything more with it is that much more egregious; considering that including it in the first place comes at the cost of precious cartridge space (between the code which operates it and the sprite tiles which comprise it), and that it would behoove the developers to make the most of what fewer features and set pieces they were able to retain.

The Famicom version of Spelunker – for everything it may lack – does introduce one new feature: The aforementioned secret items, as revealed by jumping and bombing designated spots on the screen. This “innovation” represents one of the early repercussions of a larger design movement in Japan, where 1984’s The Tower of Druaga would inspire further games to hide items and bonuses behind performing obtuse sequences of events in designated locations within the world. As it applies to Spelunker, the required actions and specific spots are at least fairly simple, and provide immediate rewards to players. At the same time though, these secrets are all inessential: Nothing earned is ever required for your progression. If the developers had decided to hide some of the keys behind destructible walls later in the game, it could’ve proven a major shake-up — something which added further elements of exploration and mystery to the game, which would’ve fit in well with the theming. Instead, secrets are relegated to score boosts and some extra items. The most interesting item you might find (with a chance to randomly appear as a pick-up) is a speed-boosting potion; which actually makes the game practically unplayable for as long as the potion lasts, due to its propensity for having you overshoot jumps.

What this leaves us with is a more short and straightforward playthrough than the game’s exploratory theming would seem to suggest. With little in the way of winding paths, hidden treasures, or honestly much in the way of depth at all; a start-to-finish playthrough should only end up running you about 15 to 20 minutes time. For comparison, the original computer format of the game seems to typically occupy 45 to 50 minutes of a player’s day — barring however many hours one might invest in “practice runs,” of course. I reckon one could argue that’s where IREM’s Spelunker intended to make up for its short runtime as well, by demanding players hone their skills over the course of however long that might take. And so, having discovered the purple pyramid within the depths and been subsequently whisked away to a congratulatory screen showcasing your newfound pile of treasure, one can finally hang up their flashlight helmet with pride… until the game seems to start back up again, and invite you to its second quest. And it is at this point where I have to assume most folk seem to shut off their machines and pretend that Spelunker’s subsequent loops don’t exist, as the lack of documentation surrounding them online is frankly shocking.

So, yes: Spelunker’s “second quest” changes the caves up slightly in an attempt to present a more challenging adventure to players. The first things you’ll notice are a new color palette (orange rocks shift to green), and the rolling back of your inventory stock to zero. At the very least, you get to retain however many lives you had left at the end of your initial run — whether that is for better or for worse. The next thing you’ll likely notice is that when you go to grab the first key, it’s not there anymore! By first impression, you may assume the game has gone and relocated them to new hiding spots, and is preparing you to hunt them down once again. But this impression would be wrong: As it turns out, the keys haven’t gone anywhere. All they’ve done is turned invisible, to where walking into where they used to be will pick them up just the same. The test here in this second playthrough still isn’t meant to challenge your exploration skills: It just comes down to a game of memory, which you can just as easily “cheat” by simply stopping off at every alcove where you might vaguely remember the keys being. And that’s really the sum of the changes made here. Nothing in the way of faster baddies or added hazards. It’s the same old caves you know and loathe, with a gaudy new layer of paint.

Subsequent loops – should you choose to endure them – continue in a similarly iterative fashion. A third playthrough will color the caves grey, and now require that you additionally jump in order to collect the invisible keys. I suppose this does require a bit more in the way of actual memorization than just being able to blindly walk into them, but only in slight measure. It’s in the fourth and fifth playthroughs where things get slightly more interesting: With the caves now painted gold (or maybe just yellow?), you’re now made to fire off one of your flares while standing where the invisible keys are meant to be. This may present a genuine wrinkle in your standard strategy, if you still happen to rely on your limited supply of flares in order to scare off bats. In this scenario, you’ll have to conserve your flares more strictly, make sure you’re collecting every additional pickup, and take care of precisely where you’re standing when you attempt to collect keys — where you’re left only a few precious pixels of wiggle room. After the fifth playthrough fails to vary in any way from the fourth, it’s the sixth which adds one last change-up to the play: While the caves may still be golden from this point forward, you’ll also have to fire off your flares while in mid-jump in order for keys to be collected.

Where I can see a slight sense of genuine mystery emerging from a player having to initially figure out these new key-collecting mechanics for themselves, it’s only a fleeting feeling. By the time you’re on your second or third loop, you’ll have already mastered the underlying gameplay mechanics, and the core platforming will no longer pose much threat to you. Past a certain point in my own play, I had more lives than the on-screen indicator could count, and practically every jump committed to muscle memory. And at that point, you start to wonder what the point of continuing is? The new quirks that come with collecting the keys don’t honestly amount to much, even when they begin to require flares to activate. Sure, it’s possible to accidentally render the game “unfinishable” if you should happen to waste too many of them, but you’ve already seen everything there is to see at least four or five times over by then. You should be thanking the game for giving you an excuse to put it down, by what might only even be the one hour mark as far as session play time.

It’s been easy to be tough on the game to this point, and I worry that I’ve sold it as being completely without merit. While Spelunker’s subsequent loops may not hold up to scrutiny, it’s obviously still worth examining the appeal of that first playthrough — the time spent learning the lay of the land and collecting still-visible keys. For one thing, I’d contend that Spelunker looks nice enough in terms of graphics: Movement and scrolling are both smooth enough, the rock patterns demonstrate a decent degree of detail and variety, and all the iconography for various items and pick-ups clearly convey what they are meant to depict. Generally speaking, the aesthetic / style here is a cohesive one, where everything and everyone (even including the ghosts) feels like they belong to the same game. About the only broader graphical change I’d deem as necessary [which works within the limitations of the memory] would be toning down the severe screen-flashing effect as bombs detonate — an admittedly / unfortunately common effect for the times.

Perhaps most importantly / enduringly though, our fragile protagonist has all the qualities of a classic 8-bit gaming character: The sort of simple design that tends to stick in the mind, more-so than even some of the elaborately detailed sprites that would appear in the years to follow. Our character’s red and blue spelunking ensemble does a fine job popping out from the pitch black backdrops, and his range of animations are all sufficiently exaggerated so as to stand out even in the game’s small scale. Put simply, it’s hard to imagine any other design for this character either working as well within the game, or catching on within Japan’s pop culture to the extent that he has. But as I say: More on that later.

Commendation also has to be awarded to the game’s enduring gameplay music: A roughly 20-second loop, which burrows itself quickly into one’s brain as earworms are wont to do. While there’s a small variety of other brief tracks made to play after picking up power-ups, hitting progress milestones, or even to indicate approaching ghosts; it’s that most commonly heard tune which sticks with you, and which has since taken on something like a life of its own in Japan (professional baseball, in particular). Surprisingly, the sound effect for screeching bats in the game – a particularly shrill beep which plays on repeat for as long as a bat remains on-screen – has not similarly endeared itself to the world at large. In the event that’s left you wondering; the sound design beyond that unfortunate choice is largely fine, and never nearly as irritating otherwise.

There’s a simplicity to Spelunker, isn’t there? Like, there really isn’t much in the way of ambition driving it; at least not in the sense of crafting sprawling stages, or evoking any sense of mystery. Even as the game attempts to test your platforming abilities, it does so with some of the basic-most obstacles and gauntlets, where lacklustre control serves as the only true challenge. It’s not a particularly long game, and it provides only the bare minimum incentive to try and tempt players to test further loops. On paper – given all we’ve said about it so far – Spelunker seems like a game that history should’ve rightfully forgotten — some cartridge curio cursed to obscurity as it stood in the shadow of Super Mario Bros. that same year. And yet, here we are still talking about it 35 years later — in spite of its apparent lack of any aspiration. That might prompt you to take a look at what players most remember about the game: The frailty of the protagonist, the incessant looping music, and the idea that the game was one of the most difficult in its day. And then comes the realization.

It’s easy enough to pitch fixes for Spelunker’s Famicom conversion: Increase the distance players are allowed to fall, and tighten up the controls that govern leaping from ropes. Expand the map, and fill it with that much more to see and do. Lean further into the exploration theming, and utilize the mechanics for discovering secret items as a requirement for finding some of the later keys. All reasonable suggestions, to be sure. But there’s where the realization comes into play: If even a single one of these improvements had been implemented, what would be left to talk about? If Spelunker were somehow more passable, it’d have simply been passed over. If any attempts had been made to tighten it up even just slightly, it’d have fallen all to pieces. If it wasn’t regarded as one of the worst games of all time, it simply wouldn’t be regarded at all.

Now, is Spelunker truly one of the worst games ever made? Far from it, honestly — not when there are far worse games released for the very same console. Should its difficulty and cruelty be held up as the stuff of legend? Not really, as it turns out — not after practicing at it for any length of time. Is its protagonist truly the weakest hero in all of video games? I can’t even grant it that — not when so many other games of its era had similarly unforgiving fall damage, and as video games continue to feature one-hit deaths to this very day. What I can say of Spelunker is that its poorer qualities are almost perfectly well-balanced: There’s a harmony to the badness here, where no one bad bit of design overpowers or clashes too harshly with any of the others.

It’s a delicate sort of thing; where if any one factor was any better or worse, it might run the risk of either cancelling out or exacerbating one of the others. Take away the fall damage, for example: If there weren’t a harsh punishment for negligible falls, there’d be absolutely zero stakes driving the simplistic platform. Alternatively, imagine more challenging / better-crafted platforming sequences, and how absolutely incompatible they’d be with how the game actually plays? The beauty of Spelunker is how it walks this tightrope without even realizing it — how it deftly performs this precarious balancing act without any awareness that it’s doing so. And for its entirely unintentional accomplishments, its due reward has been continued infamy over the course of decades — to see its name still held in disregard to this very day! And it is an honor which the game’s creators have actually accepted graciously, as we will soon discover.

Believe it or not, ‘Spelunker Dude’ (or just ‘Dude’) is the closest we have to an official, originally envisioned name for our protagonist. In his retrospective on the original Spelunker’s development / the history of MicroGraphicImage, Cash Foley seems to imply that this was the character’s name internally within MGI — going so far as to capitalize Dude as if it were a genuine given name.
The original game further included a fifth segment titled ‘Treasure,’ but this is ultimately merged with the Pyramid area in the Nintendo version. Considering that the original game actually required these distinct levels as a matter of loading / unloading maps in system memory – whereas the Famicom / NES simply incorporates them as points of no return – the “merger” here doesn’t really matter much in the grand scheme of things.
The game’s Virtual Console re-release attempts to mitigate this effect by toning the pure white flashes down to a shade of grey, thereby diminishing the severity of the rapid strobing. There might also be a reduction in the speed of the effect – where it no longer alternates on a per-frame basis – but this is harder to gather from the exclusively 29.97 / 30 frames per second videos that seem to exist for it online.

“Be Sure to Be Far Away When It Blows!”

“This is one game you can really get into… and into… and into.”
Back of North American box.

It’s hard to tell how Japan’s game critics perceived Spelunker’s Famicom release in its time, as there simply weren’t many of them on the review beat yet. With the debut of the perennial Famitsu magazine still some months away, and none of the handful of older games publications being particularly well-documented on the web (not even on the Japanese end of the internet); the only close-to-contemporary score that seems to surface online comes from a 1991 issue of Family Computer Magazine. Here, the game managed to earn itself 18.12 points out of a potential 30, as determined by averaging together the results of their reader’s survey scores.[8] While this doesn’t really help to provide an idea of what actual games writers thought of Spelunker, it at least provides a bit of insight into the mindsets of consumers: Across six categories of scoring (each with a five point scale), the game was rated as a 2.23 for ‘Operability’ and a 2.82 for ‘Value for Money,’ indicating its two weakest points. Where it rated highest was in terms of ‘Originality’ (3.35) and ‘Music’ (3.43), serving to at least somewhat bolster the final grade.

Of course, those abstract numbers posted six years after the game’s release don’t do much to tell the story of Spelunker’s immediate reception and reaction. For that, we have to turn to sales data, and sift through a bit of Internet hearsay. By IREM’s own boast on the cover for Spelunker‘s North American release in 1987, they make the claim that the game had managed “Over ½ million sold in Japan.” Despite not finding much in the way of outside verification for this figure, their assertion here at least sounds plausible enough: It’d indicate a level of success not quite comparable to the Lode Runner phenomenon, but certainly well enough to justify several further conversions and sequels. However, there is a catch to Spelunker’s success: As quickly as it may have climbed the sales charts, players were apparently just as quickly returning their copies to game stores. According to an oft-copied quote from the English web (likely originating from the game’s Giant Bomb article), one of Spelunker’s several nicknames is “The Mascot of Used Game Bins” — a moniker I couldn’t actually find any sort of equivalent for on the actual Japanese-language web. At the very least, the claim that the original cartridge is still a common sight in game shop discount bins seems to be accurate.

About that North American localization: With Brøderbund and IREM waiting a whole two years to bring Spelunker back over to the states, and subsequently failing to back it with any sort of marketing push, its homecoming resulted in a dud both critically and financially… at least, according to further rumor and speculation. As it turns out, there weren’t a whole bevy of games magazines up and running in the United States around this time, either! And as such, there’s nothing in the way of English language reviews for us to quote, let alone sales data to reference. All that being said, I’m inclined to agree with the popular conjecture here again: In all likelihood, the NES release probably was a flop. By the time of its September 1987 release date, the game would’ve already appeared downright primitive compared to more contemporary offerings, to say nothing of its dated mechanics. It was better then for Brøderbund to invest more marketing resources in a more recently-developed offering they’d be importing that same month: Deadly Towers. But that’s a story for a whole other article.

So, perhaps Spelunker didn’t quite resonate here in the USA. Funny, considering its Texan heritage, but understandable given the strange circumstances of its round-trip. At least in Japan, Spelunker would see follow-ups over the next couple of years. The first result of this would be an attempted conversion of the Famicom title to MSX platforms, released on the 10th of June in 1986. For its part, it largely recreates the original experience warts and all; albeit with less colors to work with, decidedly unsmooth screen scrolling, and all at a significantly reduced game speed. It may be a moderately worse version of a game that already isn’t particularly stellar to begin with, but it’s hard to get mad at it for staying as “true” to the original as it could. And for whatever it may be worth (400円, apparently), you can actually still purchase an officially-sanctioned digital download for this version of the game: ’Project EGG’ offers the MSX Spelunker complete with a preconfigured emulator. And while previous experience I’ve had with the English-language version of the service was perhaps less than stellar, it’s still nice to see this version of the game made available at all, for preservation’s sake.

October 1986 would also see a successor to Spelunker’s arcade release: A new cabinet titled Spelunker II: 23 no Kagi (‘23 Keys’). It may not surprise you to hear that it serves as a largely iterative, more challenging follow-up to the previous arcade; now with a wider / meaner assortment of enemies, and an uncharacteristic ability to take damage without immediately dying (where it drains from your ticking ‘Energy’ meter instead). It’s also got some swimming and skateboarding sections in it too, if that’s your bag? As another fresh twist, the plot this time involves rescuing a princess from the bottom of a mineshaft, in addition to the standard business of collecting treasures and exorcising ghosts along the way. The fact that Tim Martin still gets a credit on the title screen for this one is kind of cute – considering how far away it gets from that original source material – but the game otherwise makes for an unremarkable entry in the Spelunker franchise. Not a bad game, by my estimation, but just not particularly novel.

The true sequel to the Famicom release came to the console on September 18, 1987. Spelunker II: Yūsha e no Chōsen (‘A Hero’s Challenge’) is no less than an action-adventure / platformer / RPG hybrid, most comparable to the likes of Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest; or to less flattering extents, Rambo and The Adventures of Gilligan’s Island. Right off the bat, you’ll be surprised to find yourself presented with a choice of three character classes, where the traditional ‘Explorer’ type is flanked by a ‘Clergyman’ and ‘ESPer’ — all providing different weapon sets and baseline stats. It’s a genuinely ambitious game, which spans three overworlds connecting multiple dungeons and other locations, incorporates a day and night cycle (as well as counting ‘Days’ elapsed), involves an expansive inventory of key items and tools, and even provides a system for tracking morality / ‘Toku’ (‘Virtue’) which determines one of three different endings to the game [as well as your punishment for falling down holes]. Perhaps the implementation for some of these elements come up a bit half-baked, but I reckon the effort is still worth applauding, as is the high level of production and presentation on display. I certainly enjoyed my time with the game well enough.

All that being said, Spelunker II is also a game which barely resembles its predecessor. By de-emphasizing the difficulty and “modernizing” the controls, it loses much in the way of its original identity. It’s also the only game in the franchise to not bear Tim’s name on the title screen, which is certainly somewhat telling. In any case: While the gameplay changes made are most likely for the best / represent some marked improvements, none of it apparently did much in the way of bolstering sales. For all its efforts to carry forward (and perhaps attempt to redeem) the Spelunker name, it evidently failed to move anywhere near the same number of copies as the original. I don’t believe the change in genre is to blame, so much as the negative reputation that was already being associated with the previous entry. Consumers probably assumed a Spelunker II would contain more in the same as its predecessor, cashing in on a now-passed fad — continuing to try and ride the crashed wave that Lode Runner had wrought. The mistake here may have simply been trying to continue the Spelunker brand to begin with.

Spelunker II: Yūsha e no Chōsen for Famicom (IREM / Now Production, 1987)

IREM seemed to take the hint, as they had interpreted from consumer response: The Spelunker franchise was quickly shelved in the interest of pursuing more promising properties. In example; a little game by the name of R-Type had done fairly well for IREM in 1987, and soon spawned a highly successful and long-running series all their own — with no other publisher involved to take a percentage from its profits. Yeah, the fact that Brøderbund would’ve likely still been due some sort of license fee for continued use of the “Spelunker” name was probably a deterrent in continuing it as well. Even as Brøderbund would cease operations come 1998, and as the rights to the property would seem to transfer entirely to IREM, the company still continued to sit on the series for another nine years. In the two decades between 1987 and 2007, the state of the entire industry would obviously change quite drastically: Companies and consoles would all come and go, as the culture surrounding the games industry continued to evolve. Surprisingly though – and despite IREM’s lack of support – Spelunker had somehow managed to persist as part of the conversation.

Even prior to the rise of kusogē culture / “ironic” games admiration, Spelunker had already been established as a name synonymous with frail and injury-prone characters. The salad days of Japan’s early Internet (the likes of BBS groups, and 2channel’s establishment in 1999) saw fledgling communities already mocking the game’s pathetic protagonist, and adopting him as an inaugural figure in proto-meme culture [alongside several of his other “Famicom Soft” alumni]. Perhaps as an acknowledgment of this new cult status; when IREM began commissioning a weekly 4koma (four-panel gag comic) for their website beginning in 1998, they chose to debut it with a strip starring a so-called “Spelunker Sensei.” Where the comic more broadly served to reference / poke fun at games spanning IREM’s whole catalogue, the Spelunker in the role of a school teacher seemed to emerge as the central character — strips gleefully depicting his many deaths at the hand of mundane injuries. Somehow, this webcomic continued to update until as late as 2010, having made it to at least 601 published updates. By that point, there was only one thing left for IREM to do: Sanction a tankōbon (a complete collection in book form) compiling the webcomic’s run, and produce an accompanying anime adaptation.

Spelunker is a Teacher is the result of that effort (or lack thereof), released to DVD in 2011. And I can now testify [having endured its 30 minute runtime] that it really isn’t worth your time at all: It embodies every negative stereotype surrounding Flash animation, quickly runs its single joke into the ground, and generally fails to compare to any number of better gag anime out there. Considering that the whole show was developed as something of a piss-take – produced deliberately cheap, and animated as lazily as they could get away with – I guess it turned out exactly as IREM and ‘Studio PuYUKAI’ had envisioned? For those foolish enough to purchase the OVA on DVD; you’d additionally receive a pair of blue work gloves embroidered with the show’s logo, as well as a bonus disc (at least as part of the 3,990円 ‘Special Edition’) where the cast and crew discuss their memories of the Famicom game for 60 minutes. But why throw your money away on any of that when you can just watch the anime’s opening for free on YouTube, featuring the hit single “Risk my Life?” Trust me when I say that it’s the only part of the production worth watching… besides maybe the faux-Famicom styled closing credits, set to a second original song “Koi wa Exploration.”

Perhaps the peak of Spelunker’s cultural saturation though can be seen with its inspiring a popular slang phrase / insult: “スペ体質” (‘Spelunker’s constitution’) can be heard as a dig at injury-prone individuals, particularly within the context of Japan’s baseball leagues. Apparently – beyond the use of the phrase as a jeer on its own – you might occasionally witness a raucous crowd sing the theme to Spelunker in unison as a particularly fragile player steps up to bat — if not hear the actual song from the Famicom game played over the stadium loudspeakers (or perhaps its karaoke lounge arrangement; “Minnade Spelunker – Strongest Lyrics for Weakest Character”). No one player was made to suffer this cruel rib quite as infamously as the outfielder Hitoshi Tamura, whose laundry list of injuries during his career earned him no less than the dubious nickname of “Spelunker” (much to his apparent chagrin). Considering this association of their game with Japan’s most popular sport – and acknowledging Spelunker’s apparent place within Japan’s pop culture at large – you can bet that IREM were eager to finally cash in on the game’s second wave of notoriety.

Scene from Spelunker is a Teacher (Enterbrain / Studio PuYUKAI, 2011)

IREM first tested the waters by distributing the Famicom version of Spelunker on the Wii’s Virtual Console; arriving in August 2007 in Japan, and later March 2008 on the North American storefront. Aside from minor visual tweaks made to benefit epileptic individuals, it’s a faithful port / emulation of the original game. A month after its release, it was awarded a “Best of Retro Game Award” at that year’s Tokyo Game Show — a marketing push masquerading as a thoroughly meaningless commendation. For whatever it’s worth, digital downloads for the game have continued to be offered across the Wii U and 3DS storefronts (not having made its way to the Switch’s online service yet), and it’s difficult to imagine that offering the game digitally wasn’t a dirt cheap investment / immediate profit-earner for IREM. Perhaps sales for the game even exceeded the publisher’s expectations, and inspired them to invest further into the previously-dormant IP — to consider developing a new installment in the franchise. But they wouldn’t go it alone.

Tozai Games had been a consulting firm founded in 1996 by Scott Tsumura and Sheila Boughten — a pair who had worked previously together at Bullet-Proof Software, MicroProse, and several other ventures. There’s a fascinating story where the two of them helped coordinate the efforts to bring Tetris creator Alexey Pajitnov over from Russia to the United States, but that’s obviously a ways outside this article’s scope. The key thing here is, Tozai Games had a strong relationship and ties to IREM, and were looking to begin as a developer of games themselves. To this end, IREM allowed them access to a variety of their classic licenses; including Lode Runner, R-Type, and of course, Spelunker. For Scott, it must’ve felt somewhat nostalgic, considering his role in originally negotiating two of those licenses for his former employer in the first place. Come March 2009, Tozai Games would have a game to show for their new development venture: Minna de Spelunker (‘Everybody Spelunker’) for PlayStation 3 — to be later localized as Spelunker HD in North America in 2011.

The new entry serves as a massively-expanded reimagining of the Famicom release; expanding the original four stages out to one hundred (not including ‘EX Challenge’ stages), adding new theming and hazards, and now allowing for cooperative multiplayer play with up to five other fragile spelunkers. The game defaults to a 3D graphics presented on the traditional 2D scrolling plane, but allows you to toggle a ‘Classic’ mode which approximates the original 8-bit graphics, which honestly look a measure better than some of the uglier texture work present in the ‘Remake’ graphics. Regardless of which visuals you may choose, the exacting controls from the Famicom game are recreated almost exactly, rendering your character every bit as fragile and pitiful as your memories of playing the original game might recall. The difference here is, the stages are all far better-crafted this time around; offering actual challenge and denser danger outside of just the basic input. And while the return of invisible keys in subsequent loops (now made visible by way of your phantom blaster) may not make for particularly compelling motivation to replay the game, there are at least other challenge modes and multiplayer hooks on offer. Sad to say, a suite of unlockable items for your PlayStation Home experience are no longer redeemable.

The Minna de Spelunker release of the game rose to the top of the PlayStation Store sales charts, and even nabbed itself a “Top Sales Award” to that effect in 2009. However, IREM wouldn’t have much time to celebrate the success or strategize for Spelunker’s new future: The company’s headquarters were struck particularly hard by the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake — alternatively known as the “Great East Japan Earthquake.” Shortly after the devastation, the company would cancel the majority of its games still in development, and begin a restructure / pivot towards the pachi-slot business, which they have continued to pursue to this day. However – unlike some former publishers – they haven’t simply continued to sit on their beloved licenses. IREM would only go ahead and transfer the rights over to Tozai Games,[9] so that they could continue to produce new entries within these established franchises. And so, as one of their first orders of business, they began the process of compiling a Spelunker Collection for PlayStation 3 and Vita — a compilation of four of the classic versions of the game; including the Atari 400/800 release, the Famicom conversion, and the pair of arcade titles. But perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of this collection is what had occurred behind the scenes in the process of assembling it.

Photo of Tim Martin, taken at a January 2015 Tozai Games press conference.
(Photographed by 4Gamer staff)

In including the original MicroGraphicImage release of Spelunker for Atari computers, Tozai Games determined that reaching out to Tim Martin might be a nice gesture. Having tracked him down – where Tim had been occupying his time with research / blogging regarding alternative energy sources – they were apparently the first to indicate to him that his humble Spelunker had taken on a life of its own in Japan. As Tim recalled it a few years later: “When Tozai Games talked to me, I was very surprised that they would be interested in games that have been around for so long. […] I didn’t know anything [about Spelunker’s popularity] until Mr. Sakano and Mr. Tsumura taught me!” From here, collaboration between the two parties began to flow freely: Tim would contribute quotes and commentary for the promotion of the Spelunker Collection (as well as development notes appearing in the game’s ‘Ancient Archives Gallery’), before beginning to appear alongside Tozai Games at press events and trade expos in Japan. At this point – as the company continues to bring him out to help promote new Spelunker releases – he’s now properly known to the Japanese gaming community as “The Father of Spelunker,” and treated apparently graciously for his contributions. I consider this all class act on Tozai’s part, for whatever may have initially motivated them to reach out in the first place.

Now with Tim on board in his honorary capacity, Tozai Games set to work on a follow-up to Minna de Spelunker. Originally developed under a codename ‘Project Code Z,’[10] the final title determined for the game would be revealed as Minna de Spelunker Z for the PlayStation 4 and Vita — to be eventually rechristened as Spelunker World in the West. As a further expansion on the principles established in its predecessor; Spelunker Z brings all-new stages and far more elaborate set pieces, new hazards and mechanics to master, and a cuter visual style with added aspects of character customization. All this while still continuing to punish players with the same controls you’ve come to know and loathe, of course. But perhaps the most significant departure is in its distribution as a free-to-play game, with many of the hooks you might expect from that sort of model. It seems likely that this may have been a call by publisher Square Enix to test out that profit model, and to push the game as a so-called “service.” For however successful it may have been during its operation, the game is now due to cease service on July 30th of this year — to where the game will no longer be able to be played in any capacity.[11]

Spelunker World trailer (Square Enix / Tozai Games, 2015)

There is at least an “alternative” of sorts for when the game soon shuts down: Minna de Waiwai! Spelunker on the Nintendo Switch launched on April 20th, 2017, as both a downloadable and physical release — as well as being made available in North America as Spelunker Party!, with a PC release as of October 19th that same year. This here is a repackaging of Minna de Spelunker Z sans F2P elements, and mercifully with options for offline play. At the same time, though, it launched at a rather exorbitant price point of 5,378円 — roughly $50 USD for what was based largely on free game released two years prior! Reception to the game has generally been middling-to-mediocre in light of that factor, as well as some critics and consumers still not quite cottoning to its specific style of controlling. At this point, it seems like Tozai Games might need to go back to the drawing board, and figure out how to position Spelunker for the future. At the very least, Tozai Games seem uniquely qualified at this point in understanding the franchise’s appeal, and seem vested in continuing the legacy.

That’s just about where the official Spelunker timeline is left sitting right now: The original game’s notorious reputation in Japan well-established, and a decently successful line of sequels in place to capitalize. But surely, many of you have been waiting for me to address one of the not-so-official successors to Spelunker — perhaps the more enduring aspect of its legacy as perceived by the international market. Before we can get to that surprisingly popular spiritual spin-off, though, we do need to quickly establish the context for its creation. That is to say, we need to acknowledge Spelunker’s impact on the “masocore” sub-genre: A style of video game with a penchant for quick deaths, requiring mastery over controls and a deep understanding for the particulars of level design. To say that Spelunker was something of a precursor to this movement sounds accurate to me, especially considering the genre’s roots in Japan.

The 2007 browser game Syoban Action (developed by the unknown ‘Chiku’) was arguably the first game in this scene to make a notable splash; its development owing direct thanks to a similar game which was previously popular on 2channel (the ASCII-styled The Big Adventure of Owata), and which lifts design elements from a number of other classic Famicom titles. Past the general aesthetic clearly deriving from Super Mario Bros.; the game also plays music ripped from the likes of Action 52, Ghouls ‘N Ghosts, and of course, Spelunker’s theme music — indicating a fairly obvious broader inspiration. Syoban Action’s success set a stage for freeware games in a similar vein to break through; including the likes of I Wanna Be the Guy, Mighty Jill Off, and eventually Derek Yu’s original 2008 release of Spelunky. Yeah, I reckon that last title might sound pretty familiar, in more ways than one.

Actually – outside of the obvious naming inspiration – Spelunky doesn’t honestly draw all too much from Spelunker. Sure, there’s the cave explorer aesthetic, but Derek seems to credit that just as much to the titles La-Mulana and Rick Dangerous. In terms of underlying structure, it’s a decidedly different beast from Spelunker altogether: Here’s a roguelike dungeon crawler with randomly-generated destructible environments, shopkeepers selling upgrades and items, ‘Damsels’ to rescue, and a whole bunch more in the way of secrets and gimmicks. Getting down to the mechanics, Spelunky is also a far more generously-controlling game; allowing you to take multiple hits of damage, fall greater heights before sustaining injury, and generally allowing for far quicker and wider ranges of movement. Of course, none of that is to say it’s an easier game than Spelunker. As a matter of fact, I’d contend it’s actually far more challenging: Where the hazards are as plentiful as they are frequently unpredictable, your reflexes are tested as much as your ability to plan ahead, and as newly-generated stages thwart any attempt to “memorize” a given layout. Of course, pairing these difficulties with more flexible control makes for more balanced design, and sees them serve as far more rewarding challenges to ultimately overcome.

When Spelunky was eventually enhanced and re-launched as a purchasable download on Xbox Live Arcade, it didn’t change or iterate its name, though many choose to distinguish it in conversation as ‘Spelunky HD’ as needed. Since then, this improved HD version of the game has been released across multiple other platforms, and continues to be held in high regard. And as folk have continued to look into the game’s goofy name, they’ve all been subsequently exposed to Spelunker. Well-played, Derek. At the same time though, it’s hard to imagine someone recently enchanted by Spelunky going back to that antiquated Famicom / NES game, and getting much out of it beyond satisfaction to some morbid curiosity. I get the impression that someone capable of mastering Spelunky probably won’t get much of a challenge out of its supposed predecessor, beyond whatever initial struggle there is to grasp the controls. And where that one trick is all Spelunker really has to show for itself, it’s hard to claim that it’s still all that “brutally difficult” in the modern day. Not when the masocore genre has taken unfair and unpredictable deaths to extremes which IREM and Tose could’ve never fathomed back in the day — not that it was ever even really their intention.

The truth of Spelunker’s difficulty and its claim to the world’s weakest hero are most likely unintentional. During development, it’s unlikely IREM had deliberately intended to develop something considered so stiff to control, or even paid much thought to the constitution of their protagonist. Quite frankly, it’s unlikely that they had even taken Super Mario Bros.’ “casual and bright image” into consideration as they claimed, or made any real concerted effort to pivot their own game’s design. The reality of the situation is, the developers likely lacked an understanding of how to implement more forgiving controls, or simply failed to recognize their implementation as being all that bad in the first place: In this still-early era for platforming games, there were certainly still kinks in need of working out, and examples of popular games which fell into many of the same pitfalls. So, no: I don’t believe that Spelunker’s Famicom creators truly intended to frustrate players to the point of filling used game bins… but claiming that they did some years later certainly helps add to the game’s mystique, doesn’t it? And if “masochistic design” has become trendy again in the past fifteen years, why not play up that angle for promotion’s sake?

As cliché as the set-up might sound: I had a conversation with someone during the process of writing this article, who asked me if I thought that Spelunker had “gotten lucky” — if it simply lucked into being popular as it became, despite it not really being “anything special.” My response was to point out how Spelunker had been deliberately positioned to ride Lode Runner’s wave of popularity, and how any game in its position – whether better or somehow worse – would’ve been guaranteed at least a similar level of initial success. But since that conversation, I’ve realized that still doesn’t fully account for Spelunker’s enduring legacy — not entirely on its own. And where opportunistic marketing obviously plays some role in that, that can only carry a game past a certain point. Past that point, there has to be something that players can actually latch onto. It has to be acknowledged that Spelunker did, in fact, land on a perfect balance for a legendarily bad game. Credit where credit is due on that one, and luck where it counts.

There’s one last point I wanna address here, about the original Atari 400/800 version of Spelunker. See, when Activision’s Pitfall II: Lost Caverns debuted some months after it (serving as a largely comparable game, with many similarities in premise and presentation), it would receive far more in the way of acclaim and sales success, for what I’d subjectively measure as an inferior product. In almost every way, I’d have to rate Spelunker as just being way better and eminently more playable. But of course, Pitfall II had the advantage of actually releasing on Atari’s 2600, as well as practically every other platform available in the States [and abroad] at that time; so I reckon that goes a way in helping it achieve wider popularity. Funny enough, it also wound up with a unique Famicom conversion – more of a reimagining, really – which is also recognized as a historically significant kusogē…

Two of the “Treasure Hunter’s Trinity” still remain.

The time between releases here wasn’t due to any difficulties in the translation process, mind you: The original Japanese release’s sparse bit of text was already written in English. Despite there being seemingly no differences between the two versions of the game, the NES version still apparently required the additional aid of IREM subsidiary studio Tamtex; who further handled English localization for Deadly Towers, and left lines of code in ROMs indicating their handiwork.
For whatever reason, IREM felt it was necessary to collaborate with Sega in producing this opening theme, in order to procure none other than Takenobu Mitsuyoshi to perform vocals. Yes, no less than “Mr. Daytona USA” himself is the vocalist on duty — having not even been tapped to additionally arrange or perform the instrumentation (which he was certainly more than capable of). I suppose the lengths they had to go to in order to secure this cooperation is something of a gag in itself?
Tim has some “controversial” views on the power / energy industry, to say the least. For one thing, he doesn’t seem to fully buy into “Climategate” — the supposed conspiracy pushed by “Global Warmists” that our global temperatures has been in a state of wild and damaging fluctuation. He also occasionally promotes some sketchy-looking “free / perpetual energy” devices, and supports a few shadier groups with names like “Red Pill Reality.” I’m hoping though that the “Free Energy Music Compilation Experience CD” he helped organize is hot fire, at least.

b Stilphen, Scott. “DP Interviews… Ed Salvo.” Digital Press. 2006. Web.
Goodman, Danny. “Home Video Games: Video Games Update”. Creative Computing Video & Arcade Games, Volume 1. Spring, 1983. Print. (Transcript available)
b c d e Foley, Cash. “The notso Spectacular Rise and Fall of MicroGraphicImage.” Cash Foley Blog. January 17, 2008. Web. (Archive)
b ‘ライターM’ (‘Writer M’). 「歴代『スペランカー』を手掛けたクリエイター陣が […]」 (“The creators of ‘Spelunker’ discuss its appeal and development […]”) Dengeki Online. February 6, 2015. Web.
b Yosuke, Arai. 「歴代スペランカー開発者が,最新作「みんなでスペランカーZ」のために集結 […]」 (“Original Spelunker developers gathered for the latest work ‘Minna de Spelunker Z’ […]”) 4Gamer.net. February 7, 2015. Web.
Parish, Jeremy. “How NES launch negotiations, Tetris, and Lode Runner inspired […]” Polygon. February 4, 2019. Web.
「『スペランカー』歴代クリエイターインタビュー完全版[…]」 (“Interview with the original creators of ‘Spelunker’ […]” Famitsu. February 2, 2015. Web.
「5月10日号特別付録 ファミコンロムカセット […]」 (“May 10 Special Appendix: NES Full Cartridge Catalogue”). Family Computer Magazine. May 10, 1991. Print.
“Tozai Games In Charge Of Lode Runner And Spelunker.” Siliconera. December 8, 2011. Web.
‘SATO.’ “Square Enix’s PlayStation 4 Exclusive Is Minna de Spelunker Z.” Siliconera. January 31, 2015. Web.
“Notice of Service Termination.”Minne de Spelunker Z’ Official Website. January 30, 2020. Web.

Cassidy is the curator of a bad video game hall of fame. Whether you interpret that as "a hall of fame dedicated to bad video games" or as "a sub-par hall of fame for video games" is entirely up to you. Goes by "They / Them" pronouns.

Genuine cowpoke.

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Phil Bordelon

Fantastic breakdown of Spelunker and what makes it strangely appealing. I’m shame-proud to be one of the few people in the world with the 300-star trophy in Spelunker World, a number that will forever be set in stone in just a few days.
I found the brutal-but-fair controls of Spelunker HD and World genuinely appealing, in sharp contrast to what felt like input-eating on the NES release. Shame I’m so god-awful at Spelunky, which controls better in every possible way.
This article really makes me want to play the 400/800 version…

Last edited 3 years ago by Phil Bordelon