The Making of Karateka review

Most of today’s retro compilations offer only brief glimpses into the development process. But The Making of Karateka chronicles the journey with the meticulousness of an academic historian and the flair of a multimedia artist.  

Advocates for game presentation worry about losing access to yesteryear’s titles. Undoubtedly, that’s a significant concern, given that The Video Game History Foundation determined that only 13 percent of video games released before 2010 are still in print. But just as worrisome is the lack of quality game curation. Sure, even a fledgling publisher can bundle a bunch of ROMs into a simple anthology. But without any kind of context, these compilations feel deficient. Imagine going to a museum that didn’t offer any exhibit placards to explain each piece of art. Sadly, that’s what we are intermittently given.

Fortunately, the lack of historical perspective isn’t universal. Last year, Digital Eclipse released Atari 50: The Anniversary Celebration, which bundled the legendary publisher’s early works inside an interactive album filled with interviews, photos, and original advertisements. Sure, you could replay Yars’ Revenge or Crystal Castles, but the real allure was learning about the organizational culture of Atari. Here, expertise, creativity, and even the occasional recreational drug intermingled, forging a distinctive developmental environment unlike anything today. With this perspective, it’s difficult not to reassess and appreciate Atari’s early works.

With the release of The Making of Karateka, Digital Eclipse’s approach is also applied to Jordan Mechner’s inaugural work, crafted when he was only 18 years old. It’s an ideal launching point for what Digital Eclipse is calling their ‘Gold Masters’ series, with each entry striving to deliver an exhaustive insight into the development process. Given the quality of the care and amount of research that went in this, I’m already excited for the next entry.

“My goal for this summer is to finish Karateka. If it’s half as big as I dream it to be, that should be enough to launch me into the Video Game World.”

Making of Karateka opens with a resolute statement from Mechner. And like the sentiments from so many aspiring developers, the quote epitomizes an ambition that might be mistaken for folly. Before Karateka was released in 1984, games were rarely cinematic. That’s not a snub against industry pioneers, but a limitation of the era’s technology. But like many innovators, the Yale student looked past the 8-frame per second constraint of the Apple II and merged the sinuous animation of early Hollywood with the interactivity of an Atari game.

While years of intricate Maya-modeled characters and high-tech motion capture systems have shifted our sensibilities, Making of Karateka repeatedly reminds us of Mechner’s motivation to push at the boundaries of the medium. And if there’s a failing to Digital Eclipse’s approach, it’s the wonder of what unmade games are floating around his head. All too often, prodigies like Mechner have a disappointingly short body of work. Sure, there was also The Prince of Persia, but after 1997’s The Last Express, new game ideas ceased. It’s not a spoiler to say Mechner’s passions would shift to filmmaking, but the video interviews resolutely focuses on the subject rather than the author.

But that’s not to say the inaugural Gold Masters entry feels clinical. Video interviews include Mechner’s father, who wrote the music for the original Karateka. Whenever Francis Mechner is onscreen, there’s a palpable sense of pride that is heartfelt, as the pair reminiscences on their collaboration.

Remarkably, The Making of Karateka details each incremental step in the creation of Star Blaster and Deathbounce. Here, everything from design documents, copies of correspondence with potential publishers, family photos, and playable demos intermingle. The mixed-media approach is astonishingly effective, especially as you follow the trajectory of four different moments in Deathbounce’s creation.

Progressing from an Asteroids-clone where perilous orbs move far too fast to a concept that has players moving between cars on a giant space train, it’s an unrivaled exploration into an unpublished game. Masterfully, Digital Eclipse delivers a much-needed finale, with a comprehensive reimagining that turns the prototypes into a full-fledged title that could have been become a hit in the Atari 7800 library. Likewise, Karateka gets a revamp that adds some visual flourishes and realizes Mechner’s unfulfilled goals. It’s aided by the inclusion of the developer’s commentary as well as interactive features that explore the sprite-making process. The only issue is that the update is a bit conservative, with animations that still can’t be interrupted.

The Making of Karateka establishes a lofty precedent for the Gold Masters series, thanks to the inclusion of a mountain of production-related material. For those with fond memories of Mechner’s title, this package dispenses knowledge and nostalgia in equal pleasure, making it well worth the asking price.

The Making of Karateka was reviewed on Switch with review code provided by the publisher.