Quarter mania

By Catherine E. Toth
Advertiser Staff Writer

From left, Kristy Rubio, 17, of Waipahu, Heather Kakazu , 16, of 'Ewa Beach, Shaun Campos, 18, of Waipahu, and Cameron Campos, 18, of Kaimuki, play the video games at Hawaiian Brian's Billiards. Eugene Tanner • The Honolulu Advertiser

Suddenly, hand-holding couples and chatty teenagers emerge from the theaters at Pearlridge Center, disrupting the quiet that had fallen over the usually bustling mall. Then they are gone, disappearing through sliding doors on a mission to find their cars.

The lights in Payless ShoeSource and Mark's Hallmark, both caged up and closed for the night, are off. Yet an eerie, flickering glow illuminates the merchandise in the windows, flashes of life from across the way.

Fun Factory was still open for business, welcoming anyone with money to sample simulation. Shoot aliens, drive race cars, pummel mutant superheroes. The things you can do with a roll of quarters.

Arcades have always been weekend places, where you hang out when malls closed or during the hourlong wait for a movie. And conveniently located in Pearlridge Center, near the exit and with enough whirring sounds, chirps and lights to lure any aimless weekend warrior, Fun Factory has become a stopover — often a destination in itself — for many.

"I've been a video game kid forever," confessed 20-year-old Kent Takamoto. "I'm a gamer."

The student at Kapi'olani Community College used to head to an arcade every day, hooked on Around the World, a basketball skills game, and Dance Dance Revolution. Now he goes every other day, spending about $10 to $15 each time.

"I'm cutting down," he said with a laugh.

He means that. Ten bucks in an arcade isn't much, especially when the newer games can cost anywhere from 50 cents to a dollar to start, and the same amount to continue, for a round that may last a few minutes.

So what's the attraction?

"The crowd," said Victor Dadiz, a 24-year-old store manager at Fun Factory and avid gamer. "To see all the people watching, I like that."

Arcades have developed that reputation, of being gathering spots, as video gaming has evolved into a spectator sport of sorts.

About 12 guys in cargo pants and baggy jeans surrounded the Marvel vs. Capcom 2 console, consumed with the action on the large screen. "Shoryuken!" Ryu attacked Captain America, who blocked the fireball with his shield. The players — one in Vans and black jeans, the other in cut-off khakis and a backward baseball cap — didn't flinch or even look at each other. The crowd behind them was silent, not even fidgeting, as the epic battle between comic-book and video-game superheroes waged on.

The scene is the same at Hawaiian Brian's Billiards, packed with quarter-toting teens and twentysomethings one late Friday night. Sitting on stools, gamers are serious about competition, graciously accepting defeat by stepping to the side and allowing a fellow gamer the chance to prove his skills.

Video games "challenge me," said a well-spoken 12-year-old, Jacob Turner, who plays shooting games and simulators at both Brian's and Fun Factory. "As you go, the game gets harder, so it challenges me to get better."

The seventh-grader at Saint Louis doesn't go as often as he'd like — just once or twice a month, and always with an adult or his older sister — so he gets his game fix at home on his Sony PlayStation or Nintendo 64. But, as all gamers will say, it's not the same.

"At home you can do codes and cheat," Turner said. "Basically, you're cheating yourself out of the challenge."

The atmosphere is the most obvious difference between arcades and living rooms — a difference avid gamers thrive on.

Dadiz, who claims to own every game system from Commodore 64 to the coveted Sony PlayStation 2, believes arcade games can't be perfectly replicated on the at-home consoles.

"It can look like the arcade game, but you won't have that feeling of an arcade," he said.

That's obvious with Konami's PlayStation version of Dance Dance Revolution, a foot-eye coordination arcade game on which users complete specific dance steps to music to clear stages and advance to higher levels. DDR is wildly popular at both Brian's and Fun Factory, as game experts consistently lure spectators who marvel at their ability to follow tricky foot combinations. While Konami markets light-up pads for at-home users, DDR enthusiasts say it's not the same.

"You get a big adrenaline rush when people are watching," said Takamoto, who led Team Kiken at a recent DDR competition at the University of Hawai'i-Manoa Campus Center Gameroom. "Yeah, there's performance pressure, but the rush overpowers that. It's a natural high."

Pump It Up, another dance game, has thrived on DDR's popularity, offering different moves to different songs to the been-there, done-that gamers.

Craig Oyama and Esther Watanabe are big fans, preferring to spend their Friday night at Fun Factory over the typical movies-and-dinner combo.

The 18-year-olds paired up on Pump It Up, stomping on the squares that light up with each beat. "Bounce with me, bounce with me, bounce with me, bounce with me" repeated over and over again, as they obeyed each direction. Upper right, middle, lower right, middle together, always to the music.

"The music is good," said

Watanabe, home for the summer from Willamette University in Salem, Ore. "And you don't notice (the crowds) because you're so focused on watching the screen."

Oyama, who plays video games a couple of times a week, enjoys the attention. "It's cool," said the UH-Manoa electrical engineering student, who spends $5 to $20 per arcade visit. "And ... (arcades) are open late, so it's something to do."

After their 50-minute stay at Fun Factory, just as the arcade was about to close at midnight, the two headed toward the back door and slipped out.

With a bounce in their step, the night for them was still young.