Okay, fellow tapeheads, let’s rewind to a time when the glow of an arcade cabinet was the height of electronic entertainment, and movie plots often felt secondary to gratuitous silliness and skin. Slide that worn cassette into the VCR, adjust the tracking just so, and prepare for 1983’s magnificently dopey teen romp, Joysticks. Finding this gem on the rental shelf felt like unearthing forbidden treasure – the cover promising pixelated fun and hormonal hijinks in equal measure. It was the kind of movie whispered about, rented when parents weren't looking, and watched late at night with the volume low.
Quarter Up for Chaos
Joysticks doesn’t exactly boast an intricate narrative tapestry. The premise is charmingly threadbare: a group of fun-loving, arcade-obsessed teens (Leif Green as Eugene, Jim Greenleaf as Jonathan) must save their beloved local video arcade, the neon-drenched "Joysticks," from being shut down by the comically prudish and hypocritical businessman Joseph Rutter (Joe Don Baker). Rutter, egged on by his equally stuffy associates, believes the arcade is a den of iniquity corrupting the town's youth. Naturally, our resourceful heroes devise a plan involving high scores, pranks, and a climactic video game tournament to save their haven. It’s a classic early 80s teens-vs-establishment setup, cut directly from the Porky's cloth, which had hit big just a year earlier and opened the floodgates for imitators.
Meet the Players
The characters are pure archetypes, sketched with the broad strokes typical of the era’s sex comedies. You've got the smooth talker, the nerdy genius, the gorgeous girls next door, and the requisite overweight, perpetually horny sidekick (played with gusto by Scott McGinnis as McDorfus – yes, McDorfus). None of the performances are likely to win any awards, but there's an undeniable earnestness to the young cast. They genuinely seem to be having fun, which translates through the screen, even amidst the low-brow gags and predictable plot points. It’s easy to smile along with their antics, remembering that feeling of camaraderie and youthful rebellion, often centered around a shared hangout spot.
The real curiosity here, though, is Joe Don Baker. Fresh off more serious roles and known for tough-guy characters in films like Walking Tall, seeing him lean into the cartoonish villainy of Joseph Rutter is… something else. It's been said Baker took the role relatively quickly, perhaps seeing it as an easy payday during a lull. Whatever the reason, his presence lends the film a peculiar sort of gravitas it otherwise wouldn't possess. He growls, schemes, and sweats profusely, providing a perfect foil for the carefree teens. You can almost see him thinking, "What am I doing here?" but he commits nonetheless.
The Arcade is the Star
Let’s be honest, the real draw wasn't just the promise of T&A; it was the arcade itself. Director Greydon Clark, a seasoned B-movie maestro known for cranking out genre flicks fast and cheap (think Without Warning or Satan's Cheerleaders), understood this. Joysticks is practically a time capsule of early 80s arcade culture. The film is packed wall-to-wall with actual, playable machines – Pac-Man, Ms. Pac-Man, Donkey Kong, Frogger, Centipede, Galaga – their hypnotic attract modes and iconic sound effects forming the movie's pulsating soundtrack. Remember the sheer sensory overload of walking into an arcade back then? The darkness punctuated by flashing lights, the cacophony of bleeps, bloops, and synthesized explosions? Joysticks captures that specific energy, that feeling of being in a special, slightly edgy zone. The filmmakers reportedly struck deals with manufacturers to feature the latest games, turning the set into a working (and probably very distracting) arcade for the cast and crew. Watching it now offers a potent hit of nostalgia for anyone who ever sunk a pocketful of quarters into those glorious machines.
A Product of Its Time (And Proud of It)
Make no mistake, Joysticks is unapologetically crass, juvenile, and often nonsensical. The humor relies heavily on slapstick, sexual innuendo that’s about as subtle as a joystick wiggle, and situations that defy all logic. There’s a recurring gag involving a Pac-Man obsessed character named Patsy (Kym Malin) that… well, it certainly exists. It’s the kind of film that simply wouldn’t get made today, at least not without significant changes. But viewed through the lens of 1983, it feels less offensive and more like a goofy, harmless artifact. It was made quickly, on a shoestring budget (reportedly under $1 million), aiming squarely at the drive-in and burgeoning home video market. Critics at the time mostly dismissed it, but like so many films of its ilk, it found its audience on VHS, passed around among friends seeking cheap laughs and a glimpse of arcade glory.
Final Score
Joysticks is far from a cinematic masterpiece. The script is flimsy, the jokes are often groan-worthy, and the production values scream "low budget." Yet, there's an undeniable charm here for those who grew up in the era. It perfectly encapsulates the teen sex comedy boom of the early 80s, delivers a heavy dose of arcade nostalgia, and features a bafflingly watchable performance from Joe Don Baker. It’s like finding that favorite, slightly sticky cassette at the bottom of a box – you know it’s not high art, but popping it in feels strangely comforting.
Rating: 5/10 - Objectively silly and crude, but earns points for its concentrated blast of 80s arcade atmosphere, baffling casting coup, and pure, unadulterated VHS-era cheese factor. A time capsule worth revisiting, if only for the bleeps and bloops.
Final Thought: For a certain generation, Joysticks wasn't just a movie; it was a pixelated snapshot of youth – loud, dumb, and glowing under the neon lights of a bygone era. Fire it up if you miss the days when high scores felt like life or death.