Thursday 2 July 2015

Remembering... Manic Miner

Manic Miner

David Hayward taken on the Amoebatrons this week

The first game I ever bought for my ZX Spectrum was Gobble a Ghost, which incidentally was a Рас-Man clone. The second, however, was a tad more known. It was Manic Miner.

Manic Miner is probably the one game that most people of a certain age will fondly recall when you mention the ZX Spectrum. It spawned a million clones, featured elements that most people thought were impossible on the machine at the time, and it was fiendishly addictive.


It's a funny thing, when introducing it to my kids a few years ago, how much the gameplay is as challenging now as it was back then. To my children's generation, the fact that there was no save or checkpoint function was quite unbelievable. 'How did you complete it?' they asked, and I was left to explain how we managed to squeeze in some frantic gaming to reach the next level in that gap between finishing our homework and waiting for dinner to be put on the table.

It was all about the sequences and timings. Once you mastered and knew how to get all the level keys without landing on the Poisonous Pansies, then you could whip through the earlier levels to reach the one you were currently stuck on.

It was immense fun and a game that has stood the passage of time remarkably well.

Its History

Manic Miner was the Spectrum's and probably the UK's first blockbuster game. The teenage Matthew Smith took just eight weeks from drawing simple screens on a notepad, through to actually duplicating tapes, creating Miner Willy and his 20 caverns of gaming torture.

He created the code on a Tandy TRS-80, according to legend, which apparently crashed every time someone put the kettle on, so he ended up working exclusively at night. Manic Miner was inspired by the older Atari game Miner 2049er, written by Bill Hoag, which had a miner leaping around levels, collecting treasure and avoiding everything else.

According to Smith, he created the first level to be a little more difficult than the leading levels. The reason for that was that he wanted the new player to be challenged and frustrated enough to come back for more, to pit their skills against the game.

Manic Miner made a considerable amount of money for Matthew Smith and, of course, there was a sequel, Jet Set Willy. The pressure was on, and the software companies, gamers, investors and everyone in between were hounding Smith to come up with the goods. Eventually he did, but to the detriment of his health.

It's a great shame, looking back at it now. Smith had a lot of money, he was young, and he never had the support he needed to cope with his fame. As a result, he strayed somewhat and ended up making some poor life choices. The result was a young man who was burnt out, and Smith vanished into gaming legend.

According to Smith himself, he lived in a commune in Holland repairing motorbikes in the mid-90s. Nevertheless, he is fondly remembered for creating the defining game of our childhood.

The Good

Cunning level design. Superb tinning. Continuous music throughout the game and the number 6031769.

The Bad

That blasted Solar Power Generator level. I still can't get past that without having to use the cheat.

Conclusion

The game is as legendary as its creator, and for that we are eternally grateful. Matthew, if you ever read this, thanks.

Did You Know?

• Smith wrote the code and level design on his TRS-80. He then created a circuit board that plugged into the expansion port on the Spectrum and downloaded the code to fill the Spectrum memory, which took a few seconds. Genius.
• Depending on who you talk to, 6031769 was either Smith's driving licence number or it was his mum's, his girlfriend's or his own telephone number.
• The original concept had waterfalls, more levels and more floating toilets.
• The third Miner title, Miner Willy Meets the Taxman (or Megatree) was never made, due to Smith's decline in health.