The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters is about one man challenging another for the world’s highest Donkey Kong score. It offers a glimpse into the 80s arcade competitive gaming that most would assume did not exist. More than that though, King of Kong is about how we view that culture.
The reigning champion, Billy Mitchell, tells us about an analogy someone made of him and the Red Baron. The analogy implies that world class skill deserves notoriety and (most importantly) respect for their special gifts. Billy’s challenger, Steve Wiebe, loses his job and sees Billy’s Donkey Kong high score as the mountain to climb “because it’s there.” Steve’s wife says Donkey Kong helps Steve get through a tough stint of unemployment.

The King of Kong frames Steve as the good guy, the underdog that struggles against the wonderfully antagonistic Billy. Certain scenes with Steve have Joe Esposito’s You’re The Best playing in the background while scenes with Billy have Leonard Cohen’s Everybody Knows. Take a look at the lyrics:
Everybody Knows
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
You’re The Best
Try to be best cause you’re only a man
And a man’s gotta learn to take it
Try to believe though the going gets rough
That gotta hang tough to make it
Never doubt that you’re the one and you can have your dream
You’re the best, around!
Twin Galaxies and its founder Walter Day are the world’s authority on high scores for older arcade games. Through Billy’s influence and long-time association with Twin Galaxies he discredits Steve’s high score and new world record on Donkey Kong by claiming fault with Steve’s personal arcade machine at home. A new kind of rivalry begins. Steve attempts to regain his title in ways Twin Galaxies deems legitimate. He travels from Washington to New Hampshire to play at FunSpot’s International Classic Game Tournament. He travels to Florida to participate in the Twin Galaxies Guinness Tournament. Steve’s a trooper.

Billy has a curious power over the pro arcade gamers that appear in the film. During the FunSpot Tournament one of his “disciples” calls Billy repeatedly on the phone to give him updates on Steve’s scores. In their circle, Billy has never lost his power or luster as a world record holder on four arcade games. And they all seem to defend this image. Steve Wiebe on the other hand reminds me a bit of my big brother. Steve seems kind, quiet, brilliant, and multi-talented. One of Billy’s disciples says of him “Steve Wiebe is who I wanted to be when I grew up playing Donkey Kong. He’s quite the player.”
It’s easy to cheer for Steve Wiebe as the good guy because the filmmakers facilitate that angle. It’s equally as easy to find their world of classic gaming amusing and odd. But most boys who entered those old arcades had dreams of being the best at a local arcade at something. When Twin Galaxies Founder Walter Day says he wanted glory, fame and girls from pro arcade gaming we chuckle a little, but that’s not far from a boy’s fantasy.
In my own unemployed stint I turned to video games. It’s like cleaning I suppose; each tiny hurdle you surpass feels like a minor achievement. I focused in particular on the Mercenaries mode of Resident Evil 4 and played until I felt I achieved my personal best. When I compared my score online I discovered my score (182,000) was unfathomably lower than the top scores (over 300,000). King of Kong displays many things clearly, but fails to convey how difficulty of getting a world class high score. I thought I had played a perfect game, but clearly we can’t all be Red Barons.
From what I read real pro gamers practice extensively each day. When you’re competing on a world stage the pool of challengers spreads across oceans. There are many players despite the fact video games are a contemptible pastime far beneath watching reality TV. So says our culture. Perhaps in striving for this world record gamers aren’t just seeking only personal gratification, but to achieve a less contemptible status in society’s eyes. “You play Donkey Kong? I see. Oh, you’re the world champion? I guess that’s OK then.”
The filmmakers have done a good job of editing to tell their underdog story. According to them Billy is actually much worse than they make him appear, but you can see moments where they’ve cut footage together to make it seem like Billy contradicts himself. With Steve they are more gentle. Through interviews with friends and family we learn he used to be a musician. One of Steve’s unsuccessful high score attempts is framed with him playing a song on the piano we hear throughout. It plays through as we watch Steve slump his head, like a poetic echo of life’s failures.

“Life is all about lessons,” Walter Day tells us. I think what King of Kong teaches us is how we view video game culture. In one scene Donkey Kong high score contender Brian Kuh passes through FunSpot and informs people a kill screen (an extremely rare final screen of Donkey Kong) is coming. No one seems to care. Watching this with a friend he asked, “Is this a mockumentary?” I don’t think it is, but we look at these professional 80s gamers quizzically. They certainly seem strange, but how would the tone of the film be if this were made in Korea where pro gaming is a nationally revered sport?
We see Billy’s wife, his restaurant, his business, and some of his appearances on television. We see Steve’s wife, his kids, the kids at the school where he teaches and coaches, and some of his appearances on television. Steve’s daughter voices our culture’s view. When Steve and family are on the way to a tournament she says, “I never knew that the Guinness World Record Book was so … I never knew it was so important. Some people sort of ruin their lives to be in there.” Steve doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t think so.
Steven’s son feels differently too. Watching Steve on a good run for a high score he sits perched against his Father’s back. His eyes are watching the screen intently and his arms are wrapped around his Father. He grabs his Father’s head and lightly tussles his hair and they both smile and laugh. They’re having fun.

