MasterChugs Theater: ‘The King of Kong’

Because of our highly important alcohol conference, we’re running a MasterChugs Flashback this week. Enjoy!

The sporting world has known its share of classic rivalries: Ali and Foreman, Evert and Navratilova, Barkley and Godzilla. To this storied pantheon of titans we can now add Billy Mitchell and Steve Wiebe, the crème de la crème of competitive Donkey Kong players.

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters follows Steve Wiebe; an average dude living an average life with a wife and two kids. He’s the kind of guy who’s always had a hobby — be it baseball or music — but for one reason or another, has always come up short, mostly due to a string of bad luck dating all the way back to high school. A huge Donkey Kong fan from back in the day, Wiebe gets it in his head that he wants to try for the record — a high score secured by the great gamer Billy Mitchell back in 1982. A score that remained on top for years and years and years … until now. But it won’t be easy; Mitchell is a celebrity in the world of gaming, as well as a self-made millionaire due to his line of hot sauce. He’s a legend, who comes with a legion of fans and henchmen. Remember the Mantle/Maris home run race in 1961? Yeah, well this is even more intense.

No, really. It is. Hit the jump to see why.

In his bid to unseat Billy Mitchell from the Donkey Kong throne, Wiebe installs a Donkey Kong machine in his garage and gets to work. He tackles the challenge like the engineer he is — he uses a wax pencil on the game’s screen to trace the paths of the barrels, fireballs, and springs being hurled at him by Kong, memorizing their patterns and timing. He learns subtle tricks to fool barrels into dropping where and when he wants them to. And when he’s finally ready, he mounts a video camera over his shoulder and gets to work on his record-breaking game. In an absolutely classic scene that is totally ripe for analysis, Wiebe manages to beat Mitchell’s score by a substantial margin, all while his young son screams at him to “stop playing Donkey Kong and wipe my butt!” To beat Mitchell’s long-standing record is quite a feat, but to do so while being harangued by an annoying twerp with a dirty bum is nigh on heroic.

But this record-breaking game is only the beginning. The more-or-less official keeper of gaming world records is Twin Galaxies, founded by “Chief Scorekeeper” Walter Day. Day also happens to be a personal friend of Billy Mitchell, a fact which sets into motion a hilarious geek soap opera. First, the validity of Wiebe’s video is called into question. Then, two of Day’s deputies visit Wiebe’s home while he’s not there and convince his wife to let them inspect the Donkey Kong machine to make sure it hasn’t been improperly modified. They find reason to believe that the circuit board came from Roy Shildt, a.k.a. “Mr. Awesome,” Mitchell’s long-time nemesis. This fact alone prompts Twin Galaxies to nullify Wiebe’s high score because there is no way to verify that the board Shildt sent Wiebe was not tampered with.

Steve Wiebe has come too far to give up now, though. He travels across the country to a tournament at a New Hampshire arcade known as the mecca of classic arcade gaming. Here the Twin Galaxies referees watch as Wiebe once again beats Mitchell’s record, while Mitchell’s lackeys make hushed phone calls to update him on Wiebe’s progress. Shortly after Wiebe finishes his record-breaking game, one of Mitchell’s acolytes produces a video tape that purports to show Mitchell getting an even higher score. Although the validity of the tape is highly dubious, the Twin Galaxies team immediately posts Mitchell’s supposedly record-breaking score to their Web site as the new high score. Wiebe’s record would stand for less than a day.

Director Seth Gordon does one of the most masterful jobs telling this story. The film is cut and edited in such a way that the drama leaps off the screen at you. The “characters” are compelling-better than most you’ll find in any fictional film. You totally love the “good guy” (Steve Wiebe), and you totally hate the giant jerk of a bad guy (Billy Mitchell) and all his little friends. Unfortunately, that’s also probably one of the largest weaknesses of the movie-it’s edited in such a way that it’s almost not so much a documentary, but an op-ed piece. Those that don’t pay attention closely might not see that the subjects of the film are not quite as black and white as it may have you think.

Another possible con of the movie: the very subject matter of the movie itself. One thing that really jumped out at me, and this may sound silly, was the notion that what these guys were don’t isn’t important at all. I even say this as an individual that proudly carries his gamer cred on his sleeve (Fun Fact: Aeris/th dies); however, I also remember thinking to myself … isn’t it important? What makes it not important? To this man, Steve Wiebe, a guy who just wanted and needed something significant for his life, for something to go right, for something to work out, for the need to achieve, the need to compete, the need to accomplish something, wasn’t it important? I submit that for this man, and for all it meant to him, playing Donkey Kong was indeed important, and I defy anyone who watches the film to tell me otherwise.

Gordon has made a most improbable film: a documentary – about freaking Donkey Kong of all things – that is as compelling and involving as the original Rocky. I can’t recommend The King of Kong highly enough. A doc that genuinely moves you is rare enough, one that – literally – makes you stand up and cheer is truly unique. The film strikes a nice balance between acknowledging the obvious humor of the entire endeavor and respecting the conviction and discipline of its players. I am clearly biased as a gamer myself, but this is not just one of the very best documentaries I’ve seen, it’s one of the best movies I’ve ever seen in a long time. Period.