The BBC Micro - Videogaming’s Unsung Hero

(Written for Edge magazine job application, I got an interview, but didn't get the job)

As Samuel L. Jackson puts it in Pulp Fiction: “A dog's got personality. And personality goes a long way.” Whilst lagging behind the sleek greyhound that was the ZX Spectrum and not quite matching the lupine power of the Commodore 64, the BBC Micro‘s personality and robustness gave it the charm of a St. Bernard and the reliability of a bulldog.


The Spectrum was a black slab of cyberpunk future, but with its shameful keyboard, anaemic graphics, and dubious joystick adapters, the authentic arcade experience was lacking. The C=64 was closer, a full keyboard, dedicated joystick port, with graphical and audio capabilities that weren’t bettered until the Sega Megadrive, but stylistically, the tan-and-grey breadbin had little to shout about. Finally, the behemoth of the bunch, the BBC Model B. A full, black keyboard with red-orange function keys, all but drowned out by its enormous cream casing. So huge was the BBC Model B, that its joystick adapter was barely noticeable, but its size was reassuring; here was a real computer.


Bulk aside, the BBC wasn’t easily ignored. Unlike its rivals, it featured a built-in speaker which announced itself on startup with a comforting, house-waking ‘MMMM-BEEP!’ Its 4-channel sound chip was used to frequently deafening effect, such as on Cylon Attack’s thundering title screen, and no subsequent version of Elite matched the audio of the original. With shields draining, every Thargoid laser pulse was felt through monumental crashing and screeching.


In game terms, Elite was unquestionably the BBC Micro’s killer app. David Braben and Ian Bell’s space-trading masterpiece has arguably yet to be bettered and its praises sung at great length by many, leaving little more to be said, save this: It started here.


Despite its seven graphics modes, the BBC’s colour palettes were limited, frequently resulting in garish, punk-esque colour schemes, but also visually authentic versions of early arcade titles. As to migrations from other platforms, one look at the Beeb’s chunky, psychedelic take on the legendary Jetpac offers more evidence of the machine’s innate charm.


The manufacturer’s software house, Acornsoft created physically large but graphically minimalist packaging. Black boxes with a standard font, Acornsoft in blue, title in white and a pop-art screenshot were arresting as they were indulgent. The exceptions to the standard design were for Acornsoft’s fiendish text adventures, which gained appropriate paintings in lieu of screenshots. Just two titles ever fully bucked the trend: the aforementioned Elite and Geoff Crammond’s painfully authentic Formula 3 sim, Revs.


Thumping sounds, tripped-out graphics and arcade-perfect clones like Acornsoft’s Snapper (Pac-Man); Planetoid (Defender) and Hopper (Frogger, unsurprisingly) were impressive enough in the living room, but it wasn’t at home the BBC had its strongest presence. As the school computer, the BBC Micro offered an authentic and unmatchable arcade experience in the classroom.



BBCs were still extant in secondary schools into the early 90s, albeit usually in the more formidable guise of the Master 128. This was despite Acorn’s final foray into home computing, the Archimedes, being released in 1987. The Beeb continues to have a strong emulation scene, with many still sweating through such labyrinthine classics as Exile, Citadel and Imogen. Its Wikipedia entry lists several examples of BBCs being used well into the 21st Century, so it’s not too much to hope that these relics take the odd spin around Revs’ Brand’s Hatch or are still working towards that ever elusive ‘Elite’ rating.