As a U.S. gamer, I mainly knew Minter for his habit of attaching himself to unpopular hardware like the Atari Jaguar and VM Labs Nuon (yes, Trev owned both). So, I was curious to experience some of his other work with U.K. computers firsthand. Taken as a truncated bit of gaming history that gives access to lesser-known and/or harder-to-find works, this package is a success.

With over 40 games, there’s no possibility of covering even a quarter of them within the confines of a traditional review. This is okay, especially in this case, as there’s a real sense this collection is more focused on Minter as a person (for better or worse) than his actual software. As such, it should hold extra appeal for existing fans of the Yak.

As for most of these games, they leave me with a sense of “you had to be there.” They are dated and thus show their age. Yet, as products of their time, I did get some entertainment from viewing these through the lens of the early ’80s, a period I was too young to remember. A lot of these are takes on games that were popular at the time. Some feel too similar (ports excluded), some too slow, others too fast. Even Minter is humble enough to admit that some of his early games missed the mark in development time, difficulty curve, speed, and other areas.

I’ll highlight a few of my favorites. Note that plenty of the games in this collection live up to the company name, with llamas and other furry creatures copiously featured. In fact, the quote to open this package says, “If you load up one of my games and see a big camel or whatever, you know immediately who has created it – I’ve always tried to put a bit of myself into my games.”

Laser Zone (whose llamas are limited to the title screen) is a 1983 shooter that succeeds by being more intuitive and less complex, though still challenging to master. You control a pair of cannons, one on a horizontal plane and the other on a vertical, and must change between them to eliminate the advancing aliens. Two versions are in this package.

Meta-llamas has some similarities to Laser Zone, and not just because it’s also an ’83 shooter with two versions in this package. Left or right controls your llama, while up and down controls the force field above. Ricochet your shots successfully.

Colourspace is an early Llamasoft light synthesizer with nearly a dozen head-bobbing music tracks to enjoy. The demo mode is a fun enough watch, but the amount of control the player is given over what they can see is admirable and helps promote replay value. Adjust the speed, alter the colors, and more. Just be careful if you have sensitivities to busy lights.

Llamatron:2112 is “Considered by Llamasoft fans to be one of its best games.” A port of an Atari ST release running on the Jaguar, it’s a critter take on the popular Robotron:2084. In my mind, any (all of these) were worthy of a remaster. But as opposed to the prior collections, which had multiple, this collection only has one: Gridrunner.

Finally, we have Tempest 2000, a game that has seen sequels, and one which would make this package a must-own had that game not already been made available in Atari 50: The Anniversary Celebration, also from Digital Eclipse. When covering that collection, I wrote, “1994 brought a Jag game that everyone loved in Tempest 2000. A great tube shooter that still feels unique; I actually prefer this version over Tempest 4000, thanks to the AI Droid implementation and multiplayer.” The same remains true.

I only have a couple of issues with this package, one slight and the other significant. This is an M-rated title for the sole reason of “Strong Language.” There are occasional bits of infrequent cursing in the videos that are unnecessary and could be a turn-off for parents trying to introduce children to games of their youth. I hope future releases stay between that E10+ to T range.

Something more notable is this package’s limited scope. The Jeff Minter story presented here is an abridged version. The final chapter, in effect, ends on Tempest 2000 with “Later years” limited to a 5-minute video focussed on Jeff’s partner rather than any of his subsequent works.

It’s frustrating to see brief footage of games not properly represented in this collection, potentially leaving casual players wondering about Minter’s accomplishments over the last 30 years. Digital Eclipse ignores his better work save for a gameography listing with (if fortunate) a few screenshots.

Granted, some of the omissions are understandable, if no less disappointing. Defender 2000 missing due to licensing issues is one thing. But why not have the Jaguar VLM with some public-domain music? Where is Tempest 3000 and his Nuon experiences? Even if these were added, we’d still have a 20-plus-year gap. Part of the reason The Making of Karateka worked so well is the title made clear what it was. Any games beyond the titular one were bonuses. But no moniker in the title indicates that this only covers Minter’s early years. My advice to Digital Eclipse is to be more mindful of how they present these releases in the future. 

One could argue the compilation that started this all, Atari 50, was also incomplete, with Activision games being MIA for one. But with a generous amount of games (over 100) covering a broader number of genres across a longer time period, that gripe was much more minor than it is in the case of the Jeff Minter Story. This collection is $29.99, and I wonder how many would’ve paid extra to get a more complete package. After playing the prior releases, it’s reasonable to have expected more of a deep dive.

Even if many/most of his early games don’t seem like they’re for me, Minter seems like a pretty cool guy. He’s quirky, with a more narrow focus likely to keep him a niche developer, but I resonate with much of his thinking. His design philosophy of replaying games just because they’re fun, and opinions on modern difficulty curves are two examples. Heck, they are part of why I’m still playing Tempest 2000 30 years later.

The latest, though not greatest from Digital Eclipse (due to some lapses in storytelling), Llamasoft The Jeff Minter Story, still offers a good experience. For a certain demographic of gamers, it could be a nostalgic-filled romp. Those with an appreciation for gaming history will be entertained, even if the shortage of content makes this package feel more like a volume 1.

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Firstly, it must be recognized that those coming from Atari 50 should expect something different from 100-plus games here. But, despite the name, you’re not just paying for a single game alone. Instead, the focus is on one developer, Jordan Mechner, and his earliest works. While it really boils down to three games, thanks to the various prototypes, there are over a dozen total. Instead, the focus is on one developer, Jordan Mechner, and his earliest works. While it really boils down to three games, thanks to the various prototypes, there are over a dozen total.

The titular Karateka is the star. To players of a certain generation, this game needs no introduction. To younger players (or older ones who played mainly on consoles), Karateka is a cinematic martial arts adventure. Alongside games like Kung Fu Master, it signaled a boom in martial arts games throughout the remainder of the ’80s. Unlike Kung Fu Master from the arcade, this home game had far greater depth. Fights focused on observation, patience, and timing. Ahead of its time, it paved the way for Mechner’s later work, the cinematic platformer Prince of Persia.

There are seven versions of Kareteka packed in here, including three retail releases, three prototypes, and a remastered version. I enjoyed checking out the Apple II original, as it ran on a machine made before I was born. It also made me appreciate how good Karateka looked on aging hardware; it was already over seven years old at the time of release. I beat the game on the musically superior C64, with an enhanced framerate enabled as a bonus. The Atari 8-bit version looks the best in motion and plays quicker, but despite the option for play, it sometimes gets stuck in watch mode only—a curious bug. While this is one of a few glitches I’ve found, none are enough to detract in a significant way.

The highlight of this package is the remastered version, which plays with movement only dreamt of in 1984. The visuals are faithfully updated, and Francis Mechner’s original music is adapted in a way that really strikes a chord. An early idea (animated, but cut) has been restored. Having a goal list is such a thoughtful new replay incentive. The option for multiple lives is a wise choice that eliminates the need for a rewind option in this version, making the game feel much less dated. In truth, even in 1984, one life only felt dated. While the cushion of lives brought welcomed peace of mind, I eventually beat the game in a single run, on target with the original.

I feel compelled to be tougher on this newest version, as Digital Eclipse has raised the bar. While I commend the editorial director for pushing optional lives, he unwisely suggested leaving bodies piled up to represent where you failed. The team might find it a “hilarious… positive,” but it results in yanking you out of the game’s cinematic nature. Also, there’s an issue of lighting, which gets a fair amount of talk in the interesting (though clumsily implemented) commentary. A prime idea in theory, but single torch rooms become too dark, at least when played in handheld mode.

My biggest issue is the glitches surrounding the goal list. More than once, an alert appeared telling me a goal had been achieved, but it failed to check off. My total shows a completion percentage in the mid-60s instead of the high-70s, where it should be. Again, this release has a few glitches (at least on Switch) that need examining.

The other highlight is Deathbounce: Rebounded. Curiously, this one never went through the naming varieties that so many other Mechner creations did, and maybe it should have. Seeing the early ’80s conceptual prototypes (four early builds of various progress) given modern sensibilities makes this a fun twin-stick shooter with an arcade flair. I’ve enjoyed this enough that I believe it could be a standalone release.

You can lose hours in the timeline perusing old documents and screenshots, watching videos, and more, learning all sorts of things. I didn’t know Mechner’s original name for the baddies was Kratang; I regret that Broderbund changed it to the less original Akuma. I never realized the pronunciation of this title was so divisive, with multiple ideas and evidently no right or wrong answer. I appreciate the music of Francis Mechner even more now, and seeing the videos of him and Jordan reminiscing made me smile time and again.

But yet again, I feel the need to be a bit tougher on this timeline, given the excellence of the Atari 50 collection. While I appreciate how candid the former was, Karateka never quite reaches the same highs. While the briefest mention of the Famicom and Game Boy ports is added, the Atari 7800 port gets skipped entirely. I understand the latter might be embarrassing, with its poor audio, controls, and cut content. But as a console-only gamer, it was the version I was most familiar with. I wish the timeline had been all-encompassing, but glossing over or hiding outright some history makes the package feel slightly incomplete and a tad negligent.

Despite a few bugs and oversights, The Making of Karateka has become one of my favorite releases in 2023 and should be considered unmissable. Playing this interactive documentary, packed with history and fun remastered works, can’t help but make one wonder what Digital Eclipse plans next. How about a deep dive into Mechner’s later work, The Last Express?

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