Tag Archives: Dizzy

Am I the Only One Who Remembers… Blinky’s Scary School

In the spirit (awful pun intended) of Hallowe’en, I thought I’d pen this missive about a game most people probably won’t remember: Blinky’s Scary School. A budget title for the C64 and other formats released by Zeppelin Games in 1990, Blinky was never destined for greatness, but perhaps deserves a little bit more recognition than it now has.

Blinky's Scary School
Blinky and the cauldron he will use to cause chaos and disruption throughout the realm. Well, the flick-screen castle at any rate.

The eponymous Blinky is a ghost undergoing his final exam at Scary School. The school’s curriculum seems to require a practical exam to finish the course, as Blinky is tasked with causing a fright to Hamish McTavish, current denizen of Drumtrochie Castle. Blinky has one night to accomplish his task, otherwise he’ll have to wait one hundred years for his next chance to resit the exam. Seems rather harsh to me, but presumably none of this is properly regulated by the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority.

At first sight it’s easy to dismiss Blinky’s Scary School as a Dizzy wannabe, especially since the main character sprite looks so similar (even down to the red boots). In actuality, the style of the game is different. There is some light puzzle-solving and object collection, but this is more of a very, very light Metroidvania title, albeit minus any of the RPG elements. Blinky collects objects to create potions that grant him a handful of extra powers, such as being able to transform into a bubble and move underwater, allowing him to get to previously inaccessible areas. There’s a lot of platforming involved too, and many more nefarious beasties lurking around the castle than you’d find in your typical Dizzy title.

Graphically the game is neat, although nothing to write home about. The C64 version at least stands above the Dizzy games in that it makes better use of the hardware. It’s a flick-screen adventure, but movement between screens is nice and fluid. Blinky himself is remarkably expressive for a collection of 8-bit pixels, and the animation (where it exists) is neat. If anything, Blinky is too cute. How on Earth he’s meant to terrify anybody when he looks so adorable I’ve no idea. You’re more likely to want to pick him up and give him cuddles than you are scream at the top of your lungs and frenetically Google the nearest exorcist. He also doesn’t look anything in-game like he appears on the cover. The boxart shows what appears to be a picture of Casper the Friendly Ghost drawn by someone coming down from several days of heady drug use. Somewhere in the transition between the box and the game itself he appears to have lost all his limbs and discarded his red nose.

Blinky features many of the problems that early games (particularly budget releases) are known for. There are deaths caused by elements that can only be known about through trial and error, enemy sprites that are unavoidable due to their appearance at the edges of screens, jumps requiring pixel-precision, and more. Still, this is all par for the course given the era it comes from and everything is livable with.

Blinky's Scary School
In scenes of sheer horror, Blinky can use toilets to teleport throughout the castle. No explanation of how this works is forthcoming.

I always felt that Zeppelin wanted Blinky to become a mascot for the company and the presence of a sequel – Titanic Blink– seems to confirm that a little. Sadly I don’t think either title ever performed as well as the company hoped, either critically or financially. Reviews at the time were pretty average, I seem to recall. A shame, really, as with a little most investment of time and imagination it could have been a decent series. Still, if Bubsy the sodding Bobcat can come back from obscurity maybe it isn’t too late…

If you happen upon it via emulator or similar, Blinky’s Scary School is worth a play. It’s a diverting little game that won’t take you long to finish; I remember completing it as a kid, so it can’t be that difficult, and a ‘longplay’ of the game on YouTube sees someone polishing it off in about fifteen minutes. It won’t change your life, but it might just raise a smile.

[Pictures courtesy of MobyGames].

On… Treasure Island Dizzy

Some twenty-six years ago I went to the local newsagents and picked up a game that would change my life. That newsagents was down the road, and that game was Treasure Island Dizzy.

Treasure_Island_Dizzy_1

If you had anything to do with UK 8-bit home computer scene you will be aware of Dizzy: he was an anthropomorphic egg with an penchant for somersaults and puzzle-solving. Treasure Island was the second game in the series, released to an unsuspecting world in 1989. It’s hard to overemphasise how obsessed with Dizzy I became: something about the games, their cartoon-esque environments and characters spoke to me in a way that few other games at the time did. And it all started for me back with Treasure Island.

Looking back at the game now, it’s hard to understand quite why it struck such a chord. Some things – the Pyramids, the music of Mozart, Ghostbusters – have survived the test of time and remain as wondrous now as they were at their point of creation. Treasure Island Dizzy is not one of those things. Hailing from a time when the rules of game design were still struggling to creep forth from the primeval sludge of an 8-bit assembler, TID is full of things that just wouldn’t make it past a focus group today.

Take the end-game. After spending hours working your way through puzzles that vary from the obvious to the obscure, you get to the game’s last screen only to be told that to pass the final obstacle you need to collect thirty golden coins. The likelihood is that, by this point, you will have collected some but not all of these, mainly because a large number of them are hidden behind objects in the game world that look exactly the same as everything else. Without a guide to assist, the only way you’d ever find them all is by attempting to pick up every single bit of screen estate in the game. I’m struggling to think of any decent reason, save artificially extending the length of the game, why this was put in.

Couple that with the game’s single-life system (something which turns out to have been the result of a late-game bug that couldn’t be resolved in time for release) and you’ve got one of those recipes for frustration that old games often exhibited.

Having said that, there are some stand-out moments that stick in the mind. Finding the snorkel and realising that there’s a whole other island to explore is pretty cool, as is the underwater exploration.

The former residents of the island had created a complex treehouse village, lifts and randomly left snorkels lying around.
The former residents of the island had created a complex treehouse village, lifts and randomly left snorkels lying around.

I played the Commodore 64 version, which was ported by Ian Gray, and in similar style to a lot of budget releases from Codemasters it was a pretty poor conversion. I’m assuming it was a port of the Spectrum version (though it may have been the CPC), and aside from getting rid of some colour-clash and added some admittedly good music there isn’t much that takes advantage of the Commodore’s better graphics. To be fair, though, there is a charm to the art style. It’s not quite the ‘cartoon adventure’ that the marketing promised, but it’s pretty close given the restrictions of the hardware.

Playing the game today makes me sad, in the way that looking back at my wedding photos does. I want the game to make me happy, to make me remember the days when life was simpler. But it doesn’t. With the passing years has come too much recognition of how games should work and play, and Treasure Island Dizzy just hasn’t got enough of them. The insta-deaths, single life, frustration of the end-game, obscure puzzles, whilst all admittedly standards of the time just don’t hold up any more. *Sigh*.

Treasure Island Dizzy: it seemed a great game a quarter of a century ago, but just isn’t any more. And that makes me want to cry.