Carly King unboxes and assembles the Arcade1Up Star Wars arcade cab.
The Star Wars arcade game released in 1983 is like stepping into a time machine that teleports you directly into the cockpit of an X-wing—but with graphics that look like they were designed on an Etch A Sketch. It’s a classic relic from a galaxy not so far away, where the cutting-edge technology of the day meant wireframe graphics and joystick controls that required the reflexes of a Jedi and the patience of Yoda.
When you first approached the machine, it was like encountering a giant, glowing monolith that practically dared you to put in your quarters. The cabinet was decked out in artwork that made you feel like you were about to go on an intergalactic adventure. Once you sat down, though, you quickly realized that the “adventure” consisted of staring at a screen filled with green lines, which somehow represented TIE fighters, turbolasers, and the Death Star.
The controls? Oh, the controls. The joystick was this chunky, plastic thing that felt like it could withstand the force of a Wookiee temper tantrum. It didn’t just move; it clunked into place as you tried to aim your blasters at tiny, geometrical ships that looked like they were drawn by a very ambitious kindergartener.
But once you got into the groove, the game had you hooked. The famous lines from the movie echoed in your ears—”Use the Force, Luke!”—as you navigated the trench run on the Death Star, which was essentially a series of rectangles and trapezoids flying toward you at warp speed. The sound effects were top-notch for the time, with digitized blaster shots and that familiar “pew pew” that made you feel like you were really in the heat of battle.
Surviving long enough to blow up the Death Star was a badge of honor. You’d walk away from the machine with a sense of accomplishment, as well as a slightly sore wrist from manhandling that joystick. And if you really nailed it, you’d get to hear Obi-Wan Kenobi tell you, “The Force will be with you, always,” which was basically the arcade equivalent of a mic drop.
In short, the *Star Wars* arcade game of 1983 was a glorious, low-res homage to the greatest space opera of all time. It was the ultimate test of skill, endurance, and the ability to pretend that a bunch of green lines were actually spaceships. And for those who mastered it, it wasn’t just a game—it was a way of life.
