Who Wants to Be a Virtual Millionaire? Or Fight Aliens?

As much as I hate to admit it, I’m hooked on the TV quiz show “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” It’s a great way to relieve stress: screaming at the television screen because some poor slob can’t remember the color of Gilligan’s shirt.

In the immortal words of Kris Kristofferson, “Everybody’s gotta have somebody to look down on.” And in our house, it’s the doughy “Millionaire” contestants who sputter through questions that any reasonably educated high school junior should know the answers to.

Yet even without the opportunity to feel unjustifiably superior, the PC game “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” offers a pleasant-enough time in front of the screen. All of the show’s annoying ticks--overly dramatic music, agonizing pauses, chatty friends, Regis Philbin--are incorporated into the video version.

The game can be played alone or in a group. Although playing with friends increases the drama and the pressure, the interface for group play is awkward. Players have to squeeze around the keyboard and read a question that requires sequencing, such as ranking the order of appearance of the following “Star Wars” bounty hunters: Boba Fett, Greedo, IG-88 and Bossk. The first person with the correct answer wins, just as on TV.

From then on, it’s a single-player game that others can watch. I preferred skipping the speed round and just taking turns with my wife--who registered as “Pudgy White Boy,” a description she thinks fits 95% of the show’s contestants.

Play follows the TV show rules, although players have a 30-second time limit on questions. No chance to yak on endlessly about even the simplest questions. That doesn’t mean the game moves swiftly. Just as on television, the game version spends an inordinate amount of time reminding players of the tension and the risk and the drama. When a real million is on the line, I can stomach--barely--the overkill. But on a computer game playing for nothing more than a picture of a big check? Please.

Regis Philbin ostensibly hosts the game, but it’s clear that he just spent a few hours in a studio recording key phrases such as “Is that your final answer?” Players have to read the questions and the possible answers themselves. The only times his face appears are at the beginning and end of the game.

Even so, Philbin has mastered the art of annoyance and does an effective job even with the few lines he has in the game. For instance, even on relatively simple questions, he’ll invoke the dramatic pause after a player registers an answer. Next question, please.

“Lifelines” are just as risky as they are on the show. The “50-50” option works just as it does on television: Two of the wrong answers are removed from the consideration set. And the “ask the audience” choice is similar: A random group of people were asked the same question, and their answers are stored on the CD-ROM. The biggest difference is the “phone a friend” choice. Instead of being able to select which of your own stupid friends to ask, players have to ask one of Regis’ stupid friends. They talk too much and only rarely offer much help.

In the end, though, the most addictive aspect of the “Millionaire” game is its ability to humble. I missed the first question on one game, meaning I walked away with nothing more than a wounded ego and patronizing remarks from Regis. Then I made it to the $500,000 question. But because I didn’t know the name of Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s jazz album--”A Very Still Life”--I took home a digital booty of a mere $32,000.

On my third try, I won the jackpot by answering that Frederick Walton invented linoleum in 1863. It wasn’t so much that I knew that particular fact, but that I was able to weed out the other answers. The next day, I won another million by answering that Captain Ahab’s peg leg is made of ivory.

In the end, my bank account didn’t grow. But I was a richer man. All of us have gaps in our knowledge, things we just don’t know. It’s not that people are stupid. They’re nervous. Or the question is tricky. Even without the lights and the cameras and the knowledge that millions of people across America are screaming at me, I froze up on “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” I got a second chance, but no one on the show does.

I’ll try not to yell at the screen so much.

“Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” requires a Pentium 133 with 32 megabytes of RAM and 160mb of available hard drive space.

“Incoming”

For as little brain power as “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” requires, “Incoming” for Sega Dreamcast demands even less. But easy to pick up does not mean easy to put down. “Incoming” fills the need on Dreamcast for a multi-vehicle shooter that players can either enjoy as a stand-alone arcade game or as an ongoing series of missions.

The game’s premise is simple: In the next decade, aliens begin a campaign to take over Earth and a small fighting force is the only defense. Each player assumes a role in this fighting force, piloting vehicles from attack helicopters and tanks to futuristic spaceships. Each has a different set of controls and characteristics, so a player can find plenty to keep himself occupied even if he plays the same level over and over.

Players choose right off the bat whether they want to play a quick arcade shoot-’em-up or a longer mission-based game that sends players into myriad battles in different environments. Most are standard deserts, ice caps and island chains, but all are smoothly drawn by Dreamcast’s processors, and players move gracefully through--or over--realistic terrain.

Within the game, play alternates between attacking alien forces and defending installations or friendly ships. Each requires slightly different tactics, but the game places a clear premium on sharp shooting.

For what it is, “Incoming” hits the target.

*

To comment on a column or to suggest games for review, send e-mail to aaron.curtiss@latimes.com.