This Week In Retro: Ice Climber

January 30, 1985: There is crying in ice climbing

by Diamond Feit

If there's anything better in this world than experiencing joy, it's sharing that joy with another person. With my work-from-home schedule at odds with the rest of my family, I tend to eat a lot of meals and watch a lot of movies by myself, but that makes those rare occasions where we all get to go to a restaurant or a multiplex together even sweeter.

Yet as wonderful as it feels to split a pizza or gaze up at the big screen with a loved one, this act carries with it a grave risk: Should you aim to share something that matters deeply to you with another person and they reject it, that pain will linger for years. I still remember my failed attempt circa 1997 to enlighten my friends about the madcap magic of Mel Brooks' comedy The Producers only to watch their faces sink into boredom.

Video games are at once both easier and harder to share due to their interactive nature. Obviously, a multiplayer game serves as the ideal way to experience entertainment with a group of pals but under the right circumstances, even single-player story-driven games can simultaneously wow a couchful of cohorts while only one person holds the controller. Conversely, I think my ongoing aversion to the Persona series dates back to watching a friend play the PS1 original for hours on end, insisting that a save point lay just ahead when we begged him to turn it off.

Fans today looking for a fun group activity have their pick of literally thousands of games—both online and off—that they can play with other people. Those of us who grew up in the 1980s can remember when we had far fewer options, especially in the early days of the Nintendo Entertainment System's entry into the United States. Back then, only the most fortunate kids owned a selection of software for the new console, and even then there weren't that many games to choose from until late 1986.

40 years ago this week, Nintendo released one of the earliest two-player games for the Famicom that allowed for cooperation rather than competition. Ice Climber would, in turn, arrive in America by year's end, offering kids on both sides of the Pacific a virtual mountain range to ascend alone or with a buddy, though it also offered plenty of opportunities to leave your partner out in the cold.

Ice Climber comes from that magical era of high-concept titles where the name on the box told you just about everything you needed to know. Each session begins at the bottom of a chilly mountain, one that players must climb to the very top of before moving on to the next one. These mountains all feature a highly unnatural floor-like system—complete with numbers carved into the sides—that players can jump and break through one piece at a time to make their way upwards.

Ice Climber stars two identical adventurers named Popo and Nana; both have donned their warmest parkas and brought their mightiest mallets for the journey ahead. Strangely neither traveler thought to take any ropes or hooks along on this treacherous trek, but I suppose if real mountains had clearly defined platforms every few feet, anyone could stroll to any summit without special equipment. Then again, since Popo and Nana can jump with such power and vertical reach that they smash rocks to bits, maybe they're just "built different" as the saying goes.

Ice Climber's primary challenge lies in its level design, with the early mountains having straightforward layouts that gradually increase in complexity. The first peak offers no surprises with all floors intact and just waiting for Popo or Nana to bash them apart. Subsequent mountains introduce moving floors that threaten to slide the climbers into the abyss, indestructible floors and walls that the pair must work around, and floating clouds that offer surprisingly stable footing until they scroll out of view.

Each mountain also plays home to a number of indigenous animals who find no amusement in outside intruders demolishing their homes. Cute and fuzzy Topis will summon frozen ice blocks to replace any holes they discover on their level. Flying birds called Nitpickers ignore gravity and solid barriers as they pester Popo and Nana from any direction. Largest of all, a Polar Bear will emerge from hibernation if enough time elapses, forcibly scrolling the stage upwards with a mighty stomp, eliminating anyone who disappears off the screen.

Should Popo or Nana surpass the eighth floor of any mountain, they enter a hazard-free Bonus Stage. This final stretch introduces a variety of vegetables to nab for additional points along with a ticking clock to urge players to hurry up. At the very top, a Condor soars back and forth; only one player can leap and grab its claws to escape the mountain and receive a massive score boost. Failing in the Bonus Stage does not cost players a life but only if they reach the Condor will their character cheer as the game tallies their results—otherwise, Popo or Nana openly sob at their status.

Ice Climber channels the best elements of Nintendo's Mario Bros. as it allows players to work together to make the game more amusing while also creating ample room for hostility to make the game infuriating. While Mario and Luigi had to make do with a single arcade screen, Popo and Nana achieve progress by moving vertically. Like the pesky Polar Bear who acts as a de facto timer, one player can ascend too quickly and scroll their partner into oblivion. The Bonus Stages are cutthroat by design, as the Condor only has room in its grasp for one explorer, not two.

As a Mario Bros. fan since 1983, I immediately noticed the similarities between the two games once Ice Climber debuted in the U.S. as an NES "black box" launch title. Many of those initial cartridges supported multiplayer, but few included even a hint of cooperative play; the sport sims pit players against each other and hits like Kung Fu and Super Mario Bros. only allowed for alternating independent gameplay. The original Mario Bros. didn't make the cut for the 1985 NES lineup, leaving Wrecking Crew and Ice Climber as the only collaborative games—both of which coincidentally arm players with hammers.

Despite Mario and Luigi's presence in Wrecking Crew, I threw my allegiance in with Ice Climber for the latter's gameplay felt closer in spirit to Mario Bros. because Popo and Nana spend more of their time jumping than any other action. I'd like to think I treated my friends fairly, striving to work in conjunction with rather than opposition to their endeavors. At least, I made an effort to maintain amity until we reached the Bonus Stages, at which point all bets were off.

Yet more than any in-game hostility, the real enemy of Ice Climber is the game's unusual physics. The software has very strange methods of calculating momentum: Popo and Nana can jump straight up or at an angle but once airborne they can't alter their trajectory much at all. Combine this with baffling collision detection and you will find yourself struggling to land your climber on any ledge. More often than not, you will jump too soon and fall through what looks like firm rock, or you'll jump too late and hit Popo or Nana's head against that in-fact-very-firm rock.

Popo and Nana's prime placement as NES launch celebrities didn't win them as many fans as Mario or Luigi, as the intrepid siblings/lovers completely disappeared from Nintendo's universe until 2001 when they joined forces as a single combatant in Super Smash Bros. Melee. While I'm happy to see them find a second life as full-contact prize-fighters, I do lament that their current nomenclature—Ice Climbers—has created endless confusion in regards to the title of their original game, which is, was, and always shall be Ice Climber.

Don't look it up on Reddit, I speak the truth.

Writer/podcaster/performer Diamond Feit lives in Osaka, Japan but xer work and opinions exist across the internet.