From its very first trailer, Bomb Rush Cyberfunk wore its inspiration on its sleeve. It’s been nearly twenty years since its predecessor graced consoles, but the craving for such a specific style and aesthetic has been simmering consistently across the decades. Developers may retire, companies may collapse, the industry itself churns constantly, but there’s always going to be a place for games like Backyard Skateboarding.
While the magnum opus of Humongous Entertainment needs no introduction, it's hard not to reflect on such a remarkable history. Founded in 1992 by Ron Gilbert and Shelley Day, the company focused on building edutainment and children’s point and click games. Putt-Putt, Freddi Fish, Pajama Sam, and, of course, Backyard Sports. By 2004, the franchise had built a compelling cast of unique characters. But the good times couldn’t last forever. The dot com collapse put a nail in the company’s future and Humongous Entertainment would dissolve in 2006. The final “official” Humongous Entertainment game was Backyard Skateboarding: Game of the Year Edition.
Like most of the Backyard games and the long-running soap drama Peanuts, Skateboarding exists in a world without any visible adults. Authority exists in the outlines of the setting. The frameworks and systems of authority surround the children, yet the actual figures advancing the system are nowhere to be seen. In the absence of this visible authority, the children focus primarily on completing their own competitive rituals. Team based sports, petty rivalries, and skating challenges. The kids could easily overthrow the existing power structures with their united forces, but their in-fighting prevents any concrete organization from forming.
From the opening moments, it's obvious that capital interests have sowed division among the skateboarders. Their skate park is a hazardous disaster, a serious injury waiting to happen. Replacement is essential for not only their ability to engage with the community, but their own safety. Yet before they can even begin to discuss demanding better resources from the existing structures, a kid version of Andy MacDonald emerges with a competition. The adults have envisioned a “Backyard Skate Tour”, in which different skate teams compete for a large skate park that can be built in the winning team’s neighborhood. The new skate park would be a completely enclosed space, with no visible light from the outside world. A convenient exercise to move the children elsewhere. A scheme that maintains the current property values and encourages children to get injured in a dark, isolated space rather in the more visible guilt-inducing light of the day.
But of course, the children fall for it right away. The spectacle of Skate Station Alpha immediately causes them to shove past each other in their fervor to win the competition. Everyone eager to dominate their own neighborhood at the expense of their peers in other parts of town.
This commentary is at the forefront in Bomb Rush Cyberfunk. The graffiti writers of New Amsterdam primarily concern themselves with going “All City” and maintaining their own turf. But the primary, existential threat to their safety comes from the police force. Screaming about “dangerous armed thugs,” the police persist in an endless military escalation against their own populace. “Heroic” police officers that try to shake up the system are met with violent retaliation until they’re forced out of the department. It's not subtle, but it's genuinely refreshing that these plot points aren’t necessarily trying to teach a lesson or try to redeem any of the oppressive factions. It's just a fact of the world that the game considers obvious.
But the wider plot about police corruption and giant mechs and surveillance states can only go so far without some rock solid gameplay. Backyard Skateboarding is a very clunky, buggy game, in all the right ways. Nailing every grind and ollie requires a lot of frustration and commitment. Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is a much smoother experience, but it also emphasizes discovery and experimentation. In either game, you can be hammering your head at a particular skating challenge for hours until you decipher the exact right flow of mastery. And when it clicks? There’s nothing else like it. The pure euphoria and satisfaction of solving a new trick and jump is addictive. Failing in itself is sometimes a joy. I get to try all those precise button combinations all over again.
Past that, Backyard and Bomb Rush diverge dramatically in aesthetics. Backyard is chasing after a particular 00s skate punk culture, with ska music and backwards caps. Bomb Rush leans into different street cultures and fashions, allowing for different customizations and playstyles. I adore the ska tracks of Backyard, but it simply can’t compare to the incredible rhythm of Bomb Rush’s album. Meanwhile, character choice notably doesn’t impact gameplay as much as Backyard. While characters like Dimitri, Annie, or Pablo impact your speed and other skills, Bomb Rush characters largely maintain the same abilities. And that’s fine. There’s a missed opportunity in the lack of a dedicated graffiti customization area. Being able to slap your own art onto parts of town would be a delightful addition to the game that’s primarily relegated to modding.
But at the end of the day, the gamefeel just whips. I often got frustrated or life carried me away from the game. It crashed daily towards the end. I got interrupted by fucking Covid. But every time I thought I would shelve Bomb Rush, the pure joy from playing it sucked me back in. Good vibes and style make up for any frustration or jank in a pinch. It Simply Rules.
Just can’t get enuf.
While the magnum opus of Humongous Entertainment needs no introduction, it's hard not to reflect on such a remarkable history. Founded in 1992 by Ron Gilbert and Shelley Day, the company focused on building edutainment and children’s point and click games. Putt-Putt, Freddi Fish, Pajama Sam, and, of course, Backyard Sports. By 2004, the franchise had built a compelling cast of unique characters. But the good times couldn’t last forever. The dot com collapse put a nail in the company’s future and Humongous Entertainment would dissolve in 2006. The final “official” Humongous Entertainment game was Backyard Skateboarding: Game of the Year Edition.
Like most of the Backyard games and the long-running soap drama Peanuts, Skateboarding exists in a world without any visible adults. Authority exists in the outlines of the setting. The frameworks and systems of authority surround the children, yet the actual figures advancing the system are nowhere to be seen. In the absence of this visible authority, the children focus primarily on completing their own competitive rituals. Team based sports, petty rivalries, and skating challenges. The kids could easily overthrow the existing power structures with their united forces, but their in-fighting prevents any concrete organization from forming.
From the opening moments, it's obvious that capital interests have sowed division among the skateboarders. Their skate park is a hazardous disaster, a serious injury waiting to happen. Replacement is essential for not only their ability to engage with the community, but their own safety. Yet before they can even begin to discuss demanding better resources from the existing structures, a kid version of Andy MacDonald emerges with a competition. The adults have envisioned a “Backyard Skate Tour”, in which different skate teams compete for a large skate park that can be built in the winning team’s neighborhood. The new skate park would be a completely enclosed space, with no visible light from the outside world. A convenient exercise to move the children elsewhere. A scheme that maintains the current property values and encourages children to get injured in a dark, isolated space rather in the more visible guilt-inducing light of the day.
But of course, the children fall for it right away. The spectacle of Skate Station Alpha immediately causes them to shove past each other in their fervor to win the competition. Everyone eager to dominate their own neighborhood at the expense of their peers in other parts of town.
This commentary is at the forefront in Bomb Rush Cyberfunk. The graffiti writers of New Amsterdam primarily concern themselves with going “All City” and maintaining their own turf. But the primary, existential threat to their safety comes from the police force. Screaming about “dangerous armed thugs,” the police persist in an endless military escalation against their own populace. “Heroic” police officers that try to shake up the system are met with violent retaliation until they’re forced out of the department. It's not subtle, but it's genuinely refreshing that these plot points aren’t necessarily trying to teach a lesson or try to redeem any of the oppressive factions. It's just a fact of the world that the game considers obvious.
But the wider plot about police corruption and giant mechs and surveillance states can only go so far without some rock solid gameplay. Backyard Skateboarding is a very clunky, buggy game, in all the right ways. Nailing every grind and ollie requires a lot of frustration and commitment. Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is a much smoother experience, but it also emphasizes discovery and experimentation. In either game, you can be hammering your head at a particular skating challenge for hours until you decipher the exact right flow of mastery. And when it clicks? There’s nothing else like it. The pure euphoria and satisfaction of solving a new trick and jump is addictive. Failing in itself is sometimes a joy. I get to try all those precise button combinations all over again.
Past that, Backyard and Bomb Rush diverge dramatically in aesthetics. Backyard is chasing after a particular 00s skate punk culture, with ska music and backwards caps. Bomb Rush leans into different street cultures and fashions, allowing for different customizations and playstyles. I adore the ska tracks of Backyard, but it simply can’t compare to the incredible rhythm of Bomb Rush’s album. Meanwhile, character choice notably doesn’t impact gameplay as much as Backyard. While characters like Dimitri, Annie, or Pablo impact your speed and other skills, Bomb Rush characters largely maintain the same abilities. And that’s fine. There’s a missed opportunity in the lack of a dedicated graffiti customization area. Being able to slap your own art onto parts of town would be a delightful addition to the game that’s primarily relegated to modding.
But at the end of the day, the gamefeel just whips. I often got frustrated or life carried me away from the game. It crashed daily towards the end. I got interrupted by fucking Covid. But every time I thought I would shelve Bomb Rush, the pure joy from playing it sucked me back in. Good vibes and style make up for any frustration or jank in a pinch. It Simply Rules.
Just can’t get enuf.