During the Christmas holiday, not only was I busy with last minute shopping, helping Karin with food preparations, and visiting friends and family, I also found myself strangely engrossed in an arcade game produced in 1994 entitled Elevator Action 2 (or Elevation Action Returns, depending with whom you talk to).
This game takes place in an alternative reality where, apparently, stairs and escalators have yet to be invented (either people in this plane of existence are ultimately lazy or extremely out of shape. I’m unsure which). You play the hero determined to destroy a man who not only enjoys wearing obnoxiously red three-piece suits, but is also hellbent on destroying this vertically-driven society in which you reside.
You, being the anime-inspired, elevator-loving, do-gooder hero that you are, will be having none of that. And with this intro, you’re thrust into a world ruled by cable driven transportation devices and men who apparently hold a grudge against them.
Welcome to the world of Elevator Action 2 (insert foreboding music here).
Not content with incalculable wealth and terrible fashion sense, our villain and his Chinook helicopter are out for a night on the town. But when he begins destroying the projects (starting with your crappy apartment), you and your elite strike force are called into action..
Taking the fight to a local highrise which seems to be in a perpetual state of construction, save for the obligatory nuclear waste containers inexplicably scattered about, and elevators which, apparently, are more important to the good people of elevator city than say, oh…drywall and windows, evil Prada man sends in his jetpack-wearing goon squad to take care of our intrepid hero. Of course, given enough quarters, you’ll prevail to move on to round two.
Who the hell is the architect that designed this building? What fiend thought to construct a hollow building which surrounds a bridge of elevators that move independently of one another? The inherent danger of such a system deserves an immediate review by the local safety commission. Also, in case of fire, there are no emergency stairs, nor any other means of escape. Hell, if the power goes out you’re boned, forever trapped on whatever floor you happened to be on until the power is restored. I’d like to know who on the city council approved such an alarmingly dangerous design? I’m assuming a kickback was involved here…
Lighting peeps on fire. That’s the way we do. Oddly enough with all of the high explosives randomly stored about these buildings, and the vast amount of bad buy personnel consistently milling about the premises doing bad guy stuff, there’s not one fire extinguisher or first aid kit to be found anywhere. Is there no such thing as a safety code around here? Call me crazy, but I’m willing to bet that they’re not ISO compliant either.
Great. Not only does cashmere-boy have a nuclear weapon, but it is apparently in dire need some sort of “treatment”, whatever that means. But at least it’s good to know that this elevator world believes in some sort of higher wisdom. ”May the power be with you,” indeed… Ok?
Even though the world is about to be destroyed via nuclear annihilation, we can still find time to rest. How reassuring.
During the climatic battle, where good eventually triumphs over Armani-clad evil, the missile of doom still manages to launch. There is no way to stop it. Even though you just spent five dollars worth of quarters, defeated the evil mastermind, and managed to save the good citizens of wherever, the damned bomb still manages to ignite. What. The. Hell.
But…all is not lost. Through suspension of belief and a gaping hole in the plot, the high score screen appears. Shocker! Go ahead, put in your initials. You’re high score king. Revel in sweet, sweet victory and the ability to stick it to the man with the three letter initials of your choice. With a final condescending “thanks a lot”, Elevator Action 2 admits bitter defeat. Pat yourself on the back. You’re among the elite “best players”. Job well done, elevator king.
