Full Throttle isn’t a point-and-click adventure: it’s a point-and-click adventurestairs adventure. Rock-jawed motorcycle hero Ben is not one of those puny adventure game protagonists who use their wits to solve problems. Characters like Guybrush Threepwood of Monkey Island, George Stobbart of Broken Sword, and Bernard Bernoulli of Day of the Tentacle compensate for their lack of physical abilities by bending their intellect – approaching puzzles in ingenious, elaborate and mostly comically absurd ways. Ben, on the other hand, is a practical, hands-on man. He’s a big, sturdy, road-hardened biker with a frame that looks like it’s been carved out of oak. If something gets in his way, he introduces it into his boot.
Full Throttle is a classic 90s LucasArts adventure conceived, written and designed by Tim Schafer. The first project he was ever in charge of, in fact. It’s lighter on puzzles than other much-loved spikey clickable games of the era, but big on action, atmosphere and memorable characters. As a staple of Schafer, the game blends humor, pathos, and genre stories to great effect, spinning a compelling yarn while making you laugh and warm your heart at the same time. Ben is a hard asshole who likes booze, punch-ups, road fights and terrorizing motorists, of course. But he also has a heart of gold. The bad guys in Full Throttle aren’t the bikers: they’re the stuffed shirts of soulless corporate America.
Full Throttle was launched for PC in 1995 – arguably the golden age of graphical adventures. Schafer’s script is inspired by Mad Max and Akira Kurosawa films, while lead artist Peter Chan was inspired by the shadowy, silhouette-heavy art of Hellboy creator Mike Mignola. It was a dream combination and the result is one of the sharpest, funniest and best looking games in the adventure genre. Schafer convinced LucasArts to take a gamble on the project, and it paid off. Games like this usually sold 100,000 copies, but Full Throttle sold a million. It was a true blockbuster game, which becomes apparent almost immediately when your screen is filled with one of the most exciting intros in video game history.
A gleaming corporate limousine cruises down a desert highway, before being surrounded by the roar of a dozen chrome-plated, gas-guzzling motorcycles. ‘Legacy’ by The Gone Jackals – the actual theme song of the game – plays as Ben drives over the limousine and breaks the gilded ornament on the hood, revealing how he feels about this kind of chic trouser life. It is a beautifully directed film and a masterpiece of scene setting and tone. You immediately know what kind of person Ben is and what his gang, the Polecats, stands for. The scuzzy rock of The Gone Jackals (an authentic motorcycle band) is brilliantly complemented by a dusty, western-tinged score by Peter McConnell, former Schafer employee.
One of the occupants of that gleaming hover limo turns out to be Malcolm Corley, CEO of the country’s last motorcycle manufacturer. A series of unfortunate events leads Ben and the Polecats to be charged with murder. Worse, he learns that the company is completely shutting down bicycle production to focus on mass production of hover minivans. For a motorcyclist, that’s not just an inconvenience, it’s the end of a way of life. The end of the world. It’s a gripping premise, and like everything else in Full Throttle, it ties right in to the fact that this is a motorcycle adventure. The biggest existential threat in this story isn’t a ghost pirate, an evil wizard, or some sinister global conspiracy: it’s capitalism.
Full Throttle isn’t strictly a post-apocalyptic game, but it has the feel of one. The arid desert environment, long stretches of highway, mohawk-sporty rival bikers and the generally melancholic, gloomy atmosphere have all the hallmarks of the genre. This is not a collapsed society, but we are very much on the fringe of the so-called “civilized” world. A harsh, dangerous, oil-stained realm of bandits, criminals, hobos and gangs brandishing chainsaws at each other. It’s one of the most vibrant and richly painted settings in the LucasArts library (which is saying something), and I find myself replaying the game often to to be over there. There are some nice quiet moments that let you explore and absorb the place at your leisure.
Full Throttle is short lived and the puzzles aren’t great, but it makes up for these shortcomings in every other way. The voice acting, script, score, background art, characters, atmosphere – all sublime and seemingly immune to the passage of time. I’ve played Full Throttle dozens of times over the years and it’s as entertaining as the first time I booted it up in DOS in ’95. If you pick up the excellent 2017 remaster, I recommend playing with the original art and the remastered voice actors. Double Fine’s 4K paintovers have been beautifully and lovingly treated, but the pixel art from the OG release is still unbeatable. It also teaches you a valuable life lesson: Do you have a problem? Kick it. kick it really difficult.
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