The concept of Arkanoid is well known as it is directly based on Breakout (1976), which illustrates the timeless and intuitive nature of this genre in the world of video games. More broadly, the title is in line with the Pong-like games that flourished in the arcades of the 1970s and 1980s. Indeed the necessary technique is rather simple: a few pixels to form a bar, a pixel that bounces at an angle dictated by the part of the racket touched and bricks that disappear on impact. The concept is crystal clear and simple. Perhaps too simple for the 1980s. The development of more ambitious titles, which leave more room for player development – think of all the upgrades that shoot'em ups offer during a game –, pushed Taito to refresh the Breakout concept for its own title.
Several powers can thus be collected: a ball splitter, lasers, a sticky racket to be able to aim at the relaunch or a ball slowdown. To justify these additions, Arkanoid features a space invasion plot, so that the paddle is not just a bunch of decontextualised pixels, but a spaceship, if that makes any sense. The game doesn't bother with any further explanation, until the final stage where a moai stands before us: this is the only real combat in the game, if we can use that qualifier. The target is massive and dodging the few projectiles is an easy matter. Fatally, therein lies Arkanoid's problem: if it tries to bring novelty, it remains marginal or does only the bare minimum to keep the audience entertained, but is never transcendent. For example, lasers are a welcome addition to counterbalance the low degree of latitude on the bounce angle – a characteristic feature of the NES, remember the frustration of not being able to change finely the angle of the shot in Golf. In Taito's defence, this brick-breaking concept is really simple. Simplistic even, making it hard to build on. Perhaps this is why later concepts often remain weakly innovative: Motion-Twin's AlphaBounce (2007) or Wizorb (2011) also struggle to innovate. In fact, Arkanoid remains a title that occupies a few minutes, but is never a memorable or even enjoyable experience.
Several powers can thus be collected: a ball splitter, lasers, a sticky racket to be able to aim at the relaunch or a ball slowdown. To justify these additions, Arkanoid features a space invasion plot, so that the paddle is not just a bunch of decontextualised pixels, but a spaceship, if that makes any sense. The game doesn't bother with any further explanation, until the final stage where a moai stands before us: this is the only real combat in the game, if we can use that qualifier. The target is massive and dodging the few projectiles is an easy matter. Fatally, therein lies Arkanoid's problem: if it tries to bring novelty, it remains marginal or does only the bare minimum to keep the audience entertained, but is never transcendent. For example, lasers are a welcome addition to counterbalance the low degree of latitude on the bounce angle – a characteristic feature of the NES, remember the frustration of not being able to change finely the angle of the shot in Golf. In Taito's defence, this brick-breaking concept is really simple. Simplistic even, making it hard to build on. Perhaps this is why later concepts often remain weakly innovative: Motion-Twin's AlphaBounce (2007) or Wizorb (2011) also struggle to innovate. In fact, Arkanoid remains a title that occupies a few minutes, but is never a memorable or even enjoyable experience.