Stepping out on the PlayStation

By Scott Martelle

Oct. 20, 2005 12 AM PT

Times Staff Writer

PART of the fun in playing video games in a language you don’t speak -- in this case, Japanese -- is the inherent element of chance. A prompt on the screen gives you a choice, which you don’t realize you’ve made until after you’ve pushed a button.

So it was that I became Glenn, a raven-haired, acrobatic cop out to save an alien world from imminent invasion in Sega’s 2001 Planet Harriers game. My 12-year-old son Andrew, linked electronically on the next console at Huntington Beach’s Nickel Nickel video arcade, discovered too late that he chose to be Cory, a buxom nurse in a tight white outfit carrying a large syringe (he’s at the age where girls and syringes are to be feared).

As someone who came of age in the 1970s, my life has paralleled the societal transition from Pong, the first commercial video game, to Space Invaders, then Pac-Man to Tetris. Andrew is of the GameBoy and home computer Age of Empires generation. Neither of us has spent much time in video arcades, so we decided to spend a recent Sunday seeing what we’ve been missing.

As it turns out, we’ve been missing a lot.

Video arcades have been around for more than 30 years, but over the last decade their numbers have dwindled, succumbing to the increasing costs of the games, the rising commercial real estate prices that push overhead ever higher and the shift to home systems -- personal computers, Microsoft’s Xbox, Nintendo’s GameCube and Sony’s PlayStation.

That has opened the door for chains like Boomers and Dave & Buster’s to move in, using arcades as pieces of a broader business. Boomers’ three Los Angeles-area arcades, part of the privately held Palace Entertainment group in Newport Beach, usually include miniature golf, go-karts, batting cages and laser-tag rooms. Dave & Buster’s four local arcades aim for adults by combining arcades, pool halls and bar-restaurants in a business that recorded $390 million in revenue last year from 43 venues nationwide.

Overall, amusement vending machines, which include video games, pool tables, dart machines and other coin-operated games, are a huge business, drawing $6.1 billion in revenue in 2004, about half of it through machines placed in bars and restaurants, according to an annual survey released last month by the trade magazine Vending Times. But the business overall is shrinking, with total revenue down from $6.8 billion in 1994. Coin-operated video games have suffered an even more precipitous fall, down from $2.1 billion in revenue in 1994 to $866 million last year, with the number of machines in service dropping from 860,000 to 330,000.

IRONICALLY, the video game industry set up the arcades for partial obsolescence, almost from the start, says Eddie Adlum, publisher of the Tarzana-based industry magazine RePlay. The first video game, Pong, was quickly adapted by Atari for play on home televisions.

“Sears, Roebuck sold it, and that invention has spawned this billion-dollar industry that we call home video, and it has not been a friend of the coin machines,” Adlum says. “It has taken the kids from the arcade and put them in their bedrooms in front of a computer screen, or in front of home consoles like Xbox and Nintendo.”

Adlum estimated the neighborhood arcade business has shrunk to half its peak in the early 1980s, when Pac-Man reigned, though no groups maintain statistics that specifically measure video arcades. And now even cellphones and iPods are cutting into the turf with downloadable games that can be played on the fly. The way kids socialize has changed too, as home games can be linked up for multiple players.

“It’s just less compelling than it used to be to say, ‘Hey, let’s go down to the arcade and play some games,’ because that was the only way you could play. It was more of a social outing,” says Doug Lowenstein, president of the Washington, D.C.-based Entertainment Software Assn., a trade group for creators of video games. “Now people don’t need that as much.”

But there is a possible salvation for video arcades: The virtual reality of interactive games that simulate road racing -- such as ersatz motorcycles that tilt on curves -- or machines that mimic skateboards, skis and musical instruments. At the same time, arcades are turning to the past, adding Skee-Ball and other traditional games that spit out tickets redeemable for prizes -- a big draw for youngsters, and one of the fastest-growing segments of the amusement business.

“When you see them coming out [of arcades] there’s stuff under their arms, and kids love stuff under their arms,” Adlum says.

The three-decade-old Westwood Arcade, near the UCLA campus, is old school. Indistinguishable music and electronic sounds -- the siren call of video games -- throb in the air, drawing patrons into a deep, narrow room with neon lights high over banks of video games, racing simulators and mechanical claws, including a new Bling Bling machine that lets players try to win imitation jewelry.

Ken Beck, who has managed the Westwood facility for 2 1/2 years, began working at arcades in the mid-1970s, when video games began supplanting pinball machines. The Westwood’s location -- near a big college and nestled in a neighborhood with a lot of foot traffic -- has helped it survive, Beck says. The arcade’s big-draw game: a replica Ferrari that gamers can race around a simulated Long Beach Grand Prix racecourse.

“The only way we can compete is with the simulators,” Beck says, standing on the sidewalk to avoid the din inside. “They cost so much money, but that’s what you got to have.”

Despite the industry’s problems, Beck believes arcades will survive for a timeless reason. “Kids get tired,” he says, “and they want to get out of the house.”

So do parents. On a recent Sunday, Andrew and I drove around Los Angeles checking out five arcades just to see what was out there. We opted to skip the big chains and started at the PowerStation in Long Beach Towne Center, off Carson Street and the 605 Freeway.

The arcade does a good job of sequestering the violent games from the more general fare, placing the “shoot ‘em ups” in a rear alcove that makes it easy to steer younger kids away. We had the place mostly to ourselves, but as we played families began filtering in, playing games together or splitting up to take on favorite machines. After surveying the main room, Andrew decided to start off with an old favorite -- the Star Wars Racer game, which for $1.25 lets you pretend you’re Anakin Skywalker running the pod-racer course on planet Tatooine.

Key to a successful arcade is to not let the customer realize exactly how much money he or she is going through. Games here run on cards with magnetic strips, which you buy from vending machines and can add to in $1 increments. At $1.25 a ride, the dollars fly almost as fast as Anakin’s pod racer, which Andrew handled well enough to rack up three time extensions. Still, the ride lasted less than five minutes and as Andrew bounced off canyon walls, accelerated through curves like a NASCAR driver and ran over anyone in his way, he proved the cultural wisdom of not letting 12-year-olds drive real cars.

The arcade also had a fun photo booth, and we jammed in to get our picture taken, opting for small postage-stamp prints that we could then insert into small key chains -- a different souvenir from the usual stuffed animal or toy football.

From Long Beach, we headed north into downtown Los Angeles in search of the Japan Arcade, inside the Little Tokyo Square at Alameda and Third streets. Language conspired against us on many of the games, which were skewed heavily toward hand-to-hand fights and shootouts and were being played mostly by young men. But we found and played around on a couple of music machines, a variation on karaoke in which the player presses buttons on a fake guitar to hit notes timed to a recorded song. And there was a promising video soccer game, but, with the instructions in Japanese, Andrew never quite figured out what he needed to do.

“If I knew how to play it, it would be a lot more fun,” he said. “If you don’t know Japanese, I wouldn’t come here.”

OUR next two stops were exercises in futility. The first was Arcade World inside the Westfield Shoppingtown mall in Eagle Rock, where half a dozen machines were dark and the foosball table wouldn’t take our coins. The second was Captain Video in the Foothill Center in Azusa. The space was dirty and similarly had a high percentage of machines that weren’t working, some covered with graffiti.

With the dinner hour looming, we headed back south and swung by the Nickel Nickel arcade on Edinger Avenue off the 405 in Huntington Beach, the best of the five arcades we hit. The place was clean and had a wide range of games and better lighting than the others. Kids had the run of the place, and the managers set aside a waiting area by the door with recent copies of Business Week magazine. Nickel Nickel, part of a small chain, charges a $1.95 per person admission, then multiples of a nickel to play the games. Most took three or fewer, and some classics, such as Pac-Man and Centipede, were free.

After about 45 minutes and burned out on video, we turned to an old standby: air hockey. We lined up on opposite ends of the table, plastic mallets in hand, as cool air whooshed up from tiny holes in the flat surface. During the day, Andrew maintained an advantage on the video games, while I prevailed in pinball. Air hockey would be our rubber match, a best-of-three series.

We split the first two matches in blowouts. If the day was to have a winner, it would be decided here in the third game. I got out to an early lead, but Andrew closed quickly, winning, 7-6, which in tribal terms probably means that it’s time for me to await eternity on a hilltop somewhere.

Instead, after stopping by the glass case to redeem Andrew’s ticket for some candy, we stepped out into the sunset ready to head home, souvenir key chains in our pockets.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

Where to play

PowerStation

Kid-friendly and includes a laser-tag room. Located across from the Edwards Long Beach Stadium 26 theater complex.

Where: Long Beach Towne Center, 7589 Carson Blvd., Long Beach

When: 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Mondays through Thursdays; 11 a.m. to 1 a.m. Fridays; 10 a.m. to 1 a.m. Saturdays; 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Sundays

Info: (562) 497-1197,

www.powerstationgames.com

Japan Arcade

A fun cross-cultural experience, with most of the games in Japanese. Also has a pool table.

Where: Little Tokyo Square, 333 S. Alameda St., Los Angeles

When: Noon to 10 p.m. Mondays through Thursdays; noon to 11 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Sundays

Info: (213) 625-1486

Nickel Nickel

Part of a small chain of affordable arcades, charging $1.95 admission and running the games on nickels instead of quarters or tokens. Kid-friendly with two panels of games that are free.

Where: 7454 Edinger Ave., Huntington Beach

When: 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sundays through Thursdays; 11 a.m. to midnight Fridays and Saturdays

Info: (714) 847-2191

Westwood Arcade

This longtime favorite of UCLA students features racing machines, redemption games and some classics.

Where: 10965 Weyburn Ave., Los Angeles

When: 10:30 a.m. to 1 a.m. daily

Info: (310) 443-4316

Dave & Buster’s

There are four Southern California locations:

Irvine: Irvine Spectrum Center, 71 Fortune Drive, (949) 727-0555

Orange: The Block at Orange, 20 City Blvd. W., (714) 769-1515