Viking Night: WarGames
By Bruce Hall
August 30, 2017
BoxOfficeProphets.com
I can also tell you that at the time, the only things I was truly worried about in this world were getting a pair of Oakley handlebar grips for my bike, finishing my homework in time to watch The A-Team, and global thermonuclear war. Everyone assumed that with Hitler long dead and what with Rambo having retroactively achieved victory in Vietnam, the only thing standing in the way of world peace were the Soviets.
It was a scary time, what with a movie actor in the White House, and not knowing whether or not you’ll need the 10 or the 10,000 SPF sunblock on any given day.
Sting even wrote a song about it.
But all that seems silly now, doesn’t it? I could travel back to 1983 and tell everyone that if they’re patient, they can live long enough to see an actual game show host in the White House, thanks to Russian spies interfering with the election. And the threat of nuclear war? Still there, just from North Korea - a country run by a fat, angry child.
And worst of all, Sting will still be making music for your parents.
They’d have locked me up, and would have pointed to WarGames as being considerably more realistic than my insane ramblings.
And they'd be right. Yes, that's the movie about a kid who breaks into the government's war computer and almost starts armageddon. But one of the things I loved the most about revisiting WarGames was that looking back, it’s amazing how accurately the technology of the time (and the culture around it) was depicted. This was one of the ways in which I first became aware of computers, as well as the first time I realized I was destined to marry Ally Sheedy when I grew up.
Sadly, that never happened. But I do have a computer, so...yay?
David Lightman (Matthew Broderick) is a computer hobbyist looking for access to the latest computer games. Bored with hacking into his school’s computer system to change his grades, he decides to try the same trick to infiltrate one of his favorite game developers. Instead, he stumbles upon a military system full of titles far more advanced than Space Invaders. With his girlfriend Jennifer (Sheedy) at his side, he begins playing what they both believe to be a simulation, where the goal is to win a nuclear war.
What they don’t realize that back at NORAD (the place where the military does “missile stuff,” and also where they keep the Stargate), the government recently turned control of all defense systems over to a super computer called W.O.P.R. (hilariously pronounced “whopper”). Apparently, during an unannounced live drill, many missile commanders were too frightened to launch (the penalty for which is a bullet in the head from a baby-faced Michael Madsen), necessitating the change.
Unfortunately, to the W.O.P.R., this all looks very much like the real thing, and war is barely avoided.
When the incident makes news the next day, David decides to throw away all his research and never call the number again. But, the machine won’t be dissuaded. You see, in order to break into the system, David did some detective work to find out who created it, using the information to gain access. The W.O.P.R. believes it has found its long lost creator, and like any child it wants to show Father how efficiently it can process the fiery nuclear destruction of all humanity.
I realize that if you’re say, in your early twenties, this probably sounds like the first half a bad double feature with Sharknado 6. But if you want to know how people figured things out before there was an internet, feel free to sit on the edge of your seat while David goes to the library, checks the card catalogue, studies microfilm, checks out books and videotapes, and uses his girlfriend’s moped to get around.
There was no internet. There was the Sneakernet. There was no Playstation. There was Colecovision. And we liked it!
Also, we get to know David and Jennifer a little bit. He is a harmless slacker, the kind of boy who would probably go on to fail out of high school and invent a web browser in the '90s. She is a stand in for the audience, and is mostly around so that David can have someone to explain things to. Again, sounds corny. But WarGames does an outstanding job of combining its character development with a high level view of what an online hacker (script kiddie, really) looked like at the time.
Make no mistake, though, despite the low level tech course, what makes WarGames worth it IS the characters. Despite being mostly an accessory, Ally Sheedy is irresistible as a kind-hearted, naive schoolgirl who is budding sexually, has no idea what computers are, and also seems to have unlimited money and no parents. She’s the perfect partner for a dork like David, who’s so into computer games and voice synthesis that he’s never kissed a girl OR considered how many years in jail one can get for breaking into a government computer.
Similarly, the adults in WarGames are also archetypes. There's the cigar chomping Southern general who mistrusts technology (Barry Corbin), to NORAD’s IT director (Dabney Coleman) who seems weirdly out of touch with how modems work. Each is drawn with broad strokes but each serves a clearly defined purpose, and each actor involved served that purpose to near perfection.
This is a theme driven story that's actually more relevant today than it ever was then. Plus the dialog is still smart, with what technical jargon there is having been sanded down around the edges for the uninitiated. And damn, is the set design impressive! Real military hardware is often a mix-and-match combination of cutting edge and old-school, giving it a uniquely retro-futuristic look. The NORAD command center set in WarGames looks like something I could very much see still being in use today.
Things threaten to come off the rails late in the second act, when David manages to escape custody to pursue an important subplot involving a dead kid and a reclusive programmer. But then he kisses Ally Sheedy on a ferry (bastard), learns an important lesson about tic-tac-toe, and no sharks are ever actually jumped.
Despite how old it is, WarGames remains a fairly sober attempt to surmise what might happen if the computer in charge of our most powerful weapons decided to play a nice game of chess with them, and only the plucky resolve of a young Matthew Broderick could save us. It manages to tell a compelling, emotionally resonant story with just the right amount of humor. It has aged very well, and the the iconic climax at NORAD is just as thrilling today as is was when I first saw it in the theater.
WarGames has one of the best endings ever. It blew my mind, just minutes ago, exactly the way it did when I was a kid. I had a great time revisiting it, and so will you. And if you're on the fence about seeing it for the first time, I dare you to do it and see if you don't agree.
It's the only winning move.