THE LOST ARCADE Review: This Documentary Got Game
An intimate journey that does way more than play on your sense of nostalgia
Nostalgia has become noteworthy issue recently, with remakes, reboots, and reinterpretations of older works abound in contemporary fiction. Movies seem bloated with references and callbacks to past glory, while cable networks bank on syndicated shows and resurrected programing blocks from 20 years ago. Even brand new media streaming formats cant help but lean on nostalgia and paeans to past youth in their latest storytelling ventures. Fortunately, The Lost Arcade avoids the traps of nostalgia by presenting a loving look into to the glory days of video gaming while also telling a story relevant to the present day.
The Lost Arcade details the history of the legendary Chinatown Fair arcade in New York, which at one point became the last arcade in the entire city. For movie lovers, there are sacred memories of old run down theaters. For music lovers, it’s the fond recollections of rustling through albums at a record store. For gamers, the place of holy congregation was undoubtedly the arcade, full of camaraderie and competition that cultivated a sense of community, and Chinatown Fair is in many ways like the Sistine Chapel of its ilk. Though my opening remarks regarding nostalgia may seem critical, I am certainly not immune to its effects. In the first scene of this documentary, we follow a kid making the journey from the subway to the arcade as a voiceover recites a wistful poem, and I’ll be damned if I didnt get chills seeing the exact same path from the Canal St station to Mott St that I had taken so many times so many years ago. Thankfully, this documentary has much more on its mind than simply stroking the childhood memories of its audience.
Like a museum film presentation, the documentary graces us with an entertaining and informative history lesson about Chinatown Fair’s origins as a family friendly amusement area and tourist spot that resided in the heart of Chinatown in lower Manhattan. The lesson also touches on the socio-economic factors of the day such as the rampant gang warfare, the shadows of which added an element of danger and mystique to Chinatown Fair’s reputation. With the introduction and subsequent cultural explosion of video games like Space Invaders and Pac Man in the late ’70s and early ’80s, arcades in the Times square area such as Play Land and Station Break dominated the scene, while Chinatown fair managed to stay afloat despite the stiff competition. However, the advent of game consoles like the NES would spell certain doom for the business.
More than just a simple history lesson, The Lost Arcade explores the vital human drama element via three main subjects. One central figure interviewed is Sam Palmer, who bought Chinatown Fair during the arcade crash in what he describes as a bit of divine inspiration. Palmer managed to keep the business afloat thanks to low overhead, a DIY mentality, and a community of young loyal customers. In addition, groundbreaking blockbuster fighting games like Street Fighter II throughout the 90’s lead to Chinatown Fair’s booming Silver Age, during which it earned its legendary status as the Mecca of Fighting Games. We are then introduced to Henry Cen, a young devotee drawn to the arcade by the electric atmosphere of fierce competitors, who began helping around the arcade and would eventually become a manager. Henry carried on the DIY aesthetic of Chinatown Fair, learning how to fix the machines and eventually creating custom built cabinets to keep up with evolving technology. Lastly, we meet the gaming fanatic known as Akuma Hokura, another die hard gamer that would also join the CF staff. Akuma subtly reveals his tragic back story as a foster child who wound up on the streets, eventually being taken in by the owners of Play Land arcade. When Play Land folded, Akuma found his way to Chinatown Fair, literally the only game in town left for fighting game aficionados, where he found a community that welcomed him with open arms.
All good things must come to an end, and eventually even the mighty CF would succumb to the juggernaut of the console gaming industry, clearing out its cabinents and closing its gates for good. Here, however, is where The Lost Arcade truly distinguishes itself amongst other documentaries about a beloved moment in time. Whereas the first half of the movie deals with the rise and fall of Chinatown fair, the second half details Henry’s impassioned struggle to keep his cherished fighting game community alive. Henry finds building space in Brooklyn and manages to create an arcade spot from the ground up using his skills and connections earned from his time at the Fair. With an array of current generation video consoles hooked up to custom cabinets and projectors, Henry establishes Next Level, a new haven for long time and newcomer fighting game fans, and his friend Akuma soon comes on board to assist. While the old Chinatown Fair appeared like a seedy dive for teens, Next Level looks and feels more like a cross between a local used video game shop and a boxing gym, where players pay an entrance fee and sit for hours honing their skills in fierce duels amongst each other.
What’s particularly fascinating about Next Level isn’t just how it rekindles the tight knit community aspect of the old arcades, but how it adopts the new era of online multiplayer and streaming technology into that community. Next Level hosts weekly broadcasts of bouts between famous high level competitors to an audience of tens of thousands and growing. Unlike the jaded narrow minded Gen-Xers who cant possibly fathom why people would want to watch other people play video games, Henry and Akuma completely embrace the video game streaming culture and use it bolster their customer base and following. At one point, Henry says point blank “The reality is that you cant make money just off of nostalgia”, and if theres anyone who can speak truth to power on that, its him. But the movie doesn’t just take his word for it, as we see footage of a young man blissfully excited to finally visit Next Level and be in the presence of elite competitors that he had only seen in online streams thusfar.
The final part of The Lost Arcade takes a surprising turn, when we learn that there are plans from an unrelated investor to reopen Chinatown Fair. Lonnie Sobel is the new investor in question, a quirky older gentleman who has familiarity and fondness for arcades in his own right. However, Lonnie’s vision for the resurrected CF is a stark contrast to the house that Sam, Henry, and Akuma built. Lonnie envisions a family friendly attraction that’s a cross between Dave & Busters and a Chuck E Cheese’s, a long way from the musty den of sweaty teenage hormones that was the former CF. The grand reopening brings a crowd of old school devotees who have mixed to negative reactions to the new digs (“Fruit Ninja? I can play that shit on my phone!”). Henry comes by to survey the setup and chat with a Sobel, and while he remains cordial, you can see the perturbation and frustration on Henry’s face. Akuma’s visit is much more heartbreaking, as you can clearly see the abject dismay in his eyes, as if he had come across the desecrated grave site of a loved one.
While the venture is initially successful, the film cuts to 6 months later where Sobel relays mounting difficulties in trying to figure out the way forward. Lonnie emphasizes that the music and rhythm based games remain a top earner despite overall losses, and this introduces another intersting factor at play. While fighting games dominated and epitomized the Chinatown Fair scene of the ’90s, music based games like Dance Dance Revolution also made a huge impact and developed a sub-culture all its own, with a devoted following that continues to this day. One female gamer interviewed who had experienced the previous iteration of CF expressed her satisfaction with the music game scene in the reconstructed venue, stating that the new Chinatown Fare has a decidedly more friendly and safer atmosphere for women. When compared to the mildly Fight Club-esque atmosphere of Next Level, the difference is easy to see. Another longtime CF gamer adds on to the point, stating that despite its more casual family appeal, at the end of the day Chinatown fair is still a place where “people are just chillin’ out playing games, and that’s what an arcade is supposed to be.” And so it comes to be, while an old iconic community and cultural epicenter is no longer its former self, the spirit of that community has branched out into different paths amongst a new set of young people, all in the service of the same goal: the love of playing games together. Rival Schools, United by Fate.
This could be the point where I get into the deeply personal part of the review, where I see the reflections of the black, latino, and asian kids in the documentary and am taken back to my days at Chinatown Fair in the ’90s, huddled with a huge mix of people present for the same goal. The part where I recall the one and only time I beat this asian kid on Marvel Vs. Capcom 2 who was beasting other dudes with his Storm/Sentinel/Cyclops team, a huge accomplishment for a relative casual black kid like me. About how my crew of Caribbean, Filipino, Chinese, and Thai frequented places like XS and the Laser Tag arcade in Times Square, marveling at this “next generation” of arcade gaming. But that would all just be more nostalgia wanking, and that’s not what movie reviews or this movie in particular is about.
The Lost Arcade is about the importance of fostering community and kinship for children’s development, and finding that wherever you can. It’s about all the freaks, geeks, nerds, runaways, and all manner of society’s outcast and downtrodden finding a place to belong. It’s about how a strange neighborhood hole in the wall could unite people of different racial, ethnic, and economic backgrounds, a perfect microcosm for the greatest city on earth. The Lost Arcade is an excellent documentary that does what every exploration of the past should do; examines the past and make it relevant to the future.
The Lost Arcade is currently playing at The Metrograph in NYC.
