I seem to have an unbridled fondness for any game with an attack helicopter as its protagonist. Doubly so if it's an Apache, those sexy, slick beasts. What's not to like? You get to control a flexible, flying death machine, and unlike most planes which keep flying by as they hit targets, helicopters get to stop mid-flight and be all up in the enemy's business. My chain gun's not good enough for you? Maybe I should shove some Hellfire missiles and Hydra rockets down your throat!
.....
I blame Choplifter. My fragile little mind wasn't prepared for what it wanted me to do back then. Up to that point, action games were easy for me to grasp: destroy anything that isn't me. That wasn't good enough for Choplifter, which not only asked me to fight the enemy at large, but also save people within the chaos as its main objective. It was rather challenging, since I had to avoid projectiles just to land, and I couldn't even stay on the ground for long before a tank came scrolling on screen. To top it off, I couldn't be careless with my rescue mission, as landing in a populated spot can squash several hostages, and getting blown away with a loaded chopper means everyone on board perishes permanently. An action game with responsibility? My young self was blown away by such a concept.
Credit: SEGAEven now, this side-scrolling endeavor still gives me a workout whenever I return, especially since all it takes is a single projectile or a slight bump into an object to turn my helicopter into a burning pile; jet fighters lock and throw bullets really close before retreating, turret fire and missiles crowd the atmosphere, and if one manage to reach the third stage, get ready to be pestered by people using sci-fi flying platforms. Yeah, that last one is as jarring as it sounds. Coming to a complete stop in the midst of any of these usually ends in death, so flying the skies is the equivalent to waking up and noticing there's only five minutes left before starting work. Choplifter is all about the speed game just to survive, which makes it all the more nerve-racking when you finally stop to destroy a holding location.
Tensions only heighten when you trek back to base with a chopper loaded with 16 passengers. Stuff happens. Sometimes they'll strike as you're taking off, or a jet fighter pops up on screen with a lucky hit while you make a descent at base. The stakes only rise once you realize 40 rescued people are needed to complete a stage, and that there's a limited set of hostages per stage. Though, the difficulty never feels overbearing when dashing across the desert in the first stage, even as the layouts become a little hard to traverse in the second stage at sea, when you have to land on a warships' small landing zone to grab hostages.
But then stage three happens, and it is pain.
You have to fly into a cave, which is throwing up fireballs in spades, propelling you close to the ceiling. A major problem starts here, as the ceiling is home to a slew of stalactites, some of which are so long that they force you absurdly close to said fireballs. Oh, and since this is stage three, remember that those stupid floating platform bastards are also bothering you. If you luckily manage to make it in safely... you have to go out the same way, which is made worse if you're in deep. You also have to do this on three lives, and even though the game graciously restocks them at the beginning of every stage, once they're all depleted, it's straight back to the title screen. The odds are stacked so wonderfully against you that I can't help but think the game's director had a really awful day prior to designing this stage.
Credit: SEGAThis really sucks, as it puts a curb on the smooth mounting difficulty curve of the first two stages. Choplifter is by no means a great experience, as the layouts for the first, second, and fourth stages are so basic that the game is easily prone to repetition once the second loop starts. However, its then-unique concept, challenging gameplay, flexible controls, and silly secrets (can you find Superman?) gives Choplifter a charming aura, until you enter the third stage, that is. Simply modifying the stage or taking it out entirely could've transformed the flow into a typical, but entertaining 1980s structure for a video game: keep going through the loops until everything gets impossibly hard. Then brag about your high score. Then stop yourself, because you remember all your friends own a Nintendo.
