Prehistorik
Too Funny Game #10
Type of game
A theory that isn't all that far-fetched, which could explain the extinction of the dinosaurs, certain large mammals, and a thousand other edible things.
Release date on our machines
In 1991, people never wrote out the months in prehistoric times.
Developer
Titus France SA accounted for 98% of the platform games developed for computers between the late ’80s and the mid-’90s. Give or take.
Publisher
Titus France SA. And on top of that, they published their own games… what a bunch of sly foxes!
Prehistorik : available on GOG, Steam and on the Epic Games Store. Well, I wouldn't have thought he'd be so widely represented. That guy's got 40,000 years of street cred.
Do you remember the doctor’s son I mentioned in the article about Super Mario Bros. 2? Probably not—no big deal. I wouldn’t recognize him on the street myself, any more than he probably remembers that I even exist. But we used to see each other regularly, back in the early ’90s. When we weren’t playing the NES or Cosmix, or when he wasn’t terrorizing me by making me watch the Golden Child with Eddie Murphy, he’d let me into a sort of semi-secret office where a PC sat on a desk. I don’t think I’d ever seen that kind of machine back then. My stepfather must have owned a black-and-white Amstrad around the same time, with Test Drive on it. He’d stashed it in his bedroom, which also doubled as an office. My buddy Terrence Dobermann and his Amiga with Fire Force on it—that, too, was stashed in a hidden alcove. The Amiga, I mean, not Terrence. My stepfather’s father and his awesome Thunderstrike—same secret desk setup. What was up with all these people hiding their computers? At my first babysitter’s house, I discovered Fruity Frank right in the middle of the living room, and with my dad, I nearly pulled my hair out playing the brick-breaker game Pop Corn—right in the middle of his classroom!
Alcoveman
It just goes to show, not everyone stashed their computers in the back of a dark room. And certainly not Randall Geyser and his Atari ST, which he’d plopped right in the middle of his bedroom. Well, I wasn’t really allowed to go into that special general practitioner’s office in Le Havre very often, but whenever I could, we’d play games we’d never seen before! Bananoid first, but especially Prehistorik. Maybe there were others, but Prehistorik has taken up all my memories of those sessions. And even today, I understand why.
Eat to Better… Save Your Family
Prehistorik is the story of a guy who wakes up because he's hungry. The guy lives in the Neolithic era, I think. Although, actually, no—since he runs into dinosaurs. Well, he shouldn’t even exist—or else the dinosaurs would’ve gone extinct a long time ago—but whatever. Also, he’s a Neanderthal, which probably explains his slightly battered face. Far be it from me to discriminate, but they should’ve just not gone extinct either, if they wanted to shut me up. Can you be accused of speciesist racism when you criticize an extinct species? Hey, just to be safe, I’ll take back my potentially offensive remarks. So, um, the guy wakes up, and he’s got to find something to eat. He grabs his club and heads out. Mostly from left to right, beating up everything that crosses his path absolutely all the time. He chomps on bananas, eggs, and stuff that’s more or less identifiable—thanks to the limits on the imagination imposed by sprites that are three pixels by two. But most of all, he chomps on already-cooked legs of meat.
The guy doesn't look like he knows how to start a fire at all, but no worries—he'll find plenty along the way in the form of well-prepared campfires. Prepared by Homo sapiens? Hahahah! Sorry. I said no speciesism—sorry. You’ll have to jump over those little glowing fires, by the way, or you’ll get burned. OK, the guy really doesn’t know how to use fire if he doesn’t know that. So yeah, the goal of the game is to eat enough to move on to the next level, by filling up a bar that lets you open the door. So you keep feasting until… well, until this gastronomic journey leads our protagonist to a cave where his wife and two kids are languishing. Oh, but we were supposed to save them from the start, actually? Why does the guy seem to be finding this out at the same time as us? Is he only now realizing that his family was in danger?Le mec n'a pas du tout l'air de savoir allumer un feu, mais aucun souci, il en trouvera bien assez sur la route, sous la forme de feux de camp bien préparés. Préparés par des Homo Sapiens ? Hahahah ! Pardon. J’ai dit pas de spécisme, déso. Il faudra sauter par-dessus ces petits foyers incandescents d'ailleurs, sous peine de se brûler. OK,a le mec ne sait vraiment pas se servir du feu pour ne pas savoir ça. Alors oui, le but du jeu consiste à se sustenter suffisamment pour passer au niveau suivant, via une barre qui se remplit et qui permet d’ouvrir la porte. On enchaîne alors les festins jusqu'à ce que… euh bah jusqu'à ce que ce périple gastronomique amène notre protagoniste à une grotte où croupissent sa femme et ses deux gosses. Ah mais il fallait les sauver depuis le début en fait ? Pourquoi le gars semble le découvrir en même temps que nous ? Il se rend compte seulement maintenant que sa famille était en danger ?
Man, thank goodness he was hungry enough to get his ass in gear, huh? What a stroke of luck. Luckily, we had a good laugh in the meantime! Well, I don’t know about the three prisoners, but we sure did, sitting in front of our computer. Although the doctor’s son—I’m not so sure. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him smile. I hope he was okay, that he was happy and all. Oh, damn. Anyway, I was saying that I thought this game was really funny, especially because our total glutton of an avatar swings his club at his enemies at a pretty hilarious speed. All wildlife concerns aside, it’s still super funny to watch our prehistorik Neanderthal smash dinosaurs, monkeys, bears, giant birds, dangling spiders, and yellow furballs that breathe fire… ah, are those the ones roasting the meat? Maybe we should thank them before we beat them up, right? All these animals pacing back and forth in a super-angry frenzy, while we blaze our trail by knocking them out—I just found that way too amusing.
We also beat up old humans sitting quietly in the lotus position, who give us extra time to finish the level in question. What a wonderful view of life, huh? Beating up elderly people to steal their last few weeks of life expectancy—who would’ve thought of that? As for having the nerve to include that in the final version of the game… I… I don’t even know what to say. You jump, you swing a club, and you eat. Okay. That pretty much sums it up, although you also have to glide over ravines using inflatable balloons, bounce back to the surface of a lake by jumping on a metal spring, and a couple of other things like that. For a 1991 platformer, the gameplay seems a bit lacking to me. Especially when compared to Psycho Fox, which offered more two years earlier, not to mention Super Mario Bros. 3! But back then, I was already so thrilled just to be sitting in front of a PC hidden away in a secret office that I could have played anything.
Today, though, I still feel a visceral need to understand why our starving Neanderthal was using rubber birthday balloons or drinking milk from glass bottles. But back then, it was just funny—that’s all. I can still give credit to the creators for their effort with the settings. You get to explore four different landscapes, ranging from the classic, somewhat green and mountainous terrain to an ice arena, the jungle, and a volcanic world. Only four? Um, yeah, but there are also three bosses to face in a ring! Huge dinosaurs, or a giant human. Why not. That last one makes me almost as uncomfortable as the enormous eye-spewing head in Mr. Nutz. Thank goodness I never saw that homo gigantus when I was six—good grief. We probably thought the game was too hard back then, and we’d give up before finishing it. I probably would’ve had nightmares about it. On the other hand, there’s no final boss until we free our family.
No climax, no epic moments, nothing. A rabid mammoth wouldn’t have been out of place. The level design isn’t exactly mind-blowing either. Aside from the few sections mentioned above, all you have to do is jump to move on to the next levels. The caves are a plus, though. There are tons of them to explore, most containing food that lets you unlock the exit. Just like in Sneaky Snakes, actually. If you haven’t eaten enough, you have to go back! Luckily, everything you smash fills up your meter. And here’s proof that the protagonist eats his meat raw! Unlike in Sneaky Snakes, though, I don’t feel like the time limit is a problem in Prehistorik. But you might as well do everything as fast as possible—it’s so much more fun that way.
Prehistor-Hymns
After waiting so many times for music that never came in three-quarters of Randall Geyser’s Atari ST games, I’m grateful to Prehistorik for including a theme for every level! Did the Atari ST version get any music too? Well, only for the intro and the ending scene! So, what was I saying? So many missed opportunities to fill out my ultimate childhood video game playlist. Couldn’t Randall have gotten an Amiga? Apparently, the OST sounds better on that machine than on a PC. Oh well, too bad! I never would have discovered Bananoid if the doctor’s kid had gotten an Amiga, too. Anyway, I read this in some review by some random guy like me giving his opinion on a game that everyone’s forgotten about, except for a tiny group of nostalgic nutcases. Plus, I prefer the rougher sounds of the DOS soundtrack compared to the smoother arrangements of the other version. Rough, Stone Age, Prehistorik—of course I prefer it! It feels like I’m comparing the Mega Drive to the Super NES, come to think of it. As if Mortal Kombat stood a chance musically on the SNES, HAHAHAHA! But uh, this isn’t the time or place to trigger people. I really like this soundtrack, though. A little cheerful at times, with a sense of joie de vivre and carefree spirit. Just the carefree recklessness of some big brute who takes out ten endangered animals per second, we’d have kept asking for more until we came of age. There are two or three of them, though, that are really starting to get on my nerves. So, half the tracks—sorry about that. But the other two or three? Nothing to complain about there!
Upcoming consultation?
After diving back into this dystopian Pleistocene, well, I almost feel like getting back in touch with the doctor’s son! He certainly deserves my thanks for introducing me to Prehistorik. And Super Mario Bros. 2. And the secret hiding spots with computers in them. No thanks for The Golden Child, though. I don’t even remember why that movie terrified me, but I still have a very unsettling memory of it! After that, I played other Titus games, like The Blues Brothers on the NES at Lionel Mortadelle’s house, or the famous Moktar at Randall Geyser’s. Platformers with a fairly similar style, featuring a gameplay feel that’s both fluid and stiff—something I can’t quite explain, but that I really like. Well, actually, Prehistorik wasn’t developed by Titus, but by a small independent studio; Titus bought the project and made it their own. Well, I’ll be… uh, that’s about it, because I don’t know the details of the story. Still, looking back at all these sprites of dinosaurs and food, I can’t help but think of something. Didn’t my former, unbridled love for meat come to life at the sight of these magnificent, juicy legs of meat?
Maybe not, but it certainly didn’t push me toward a more vegetarian lifestyle either. I lost touch with the doctor’s son pretty quickly after that. He was a year ahead of me and was always in the grade above mine, which probably kept us from forming lasting bonds. I did talk to him on a few rare occasions, though. On the way to middle school, in particular, when I mentioned how much I loved Warcraft II at the time. He replied that he only knew the first one, and that in it, the trolls didn’t throw axes, but spears. Spear-throwing trolls (lanceur de lances in french). We chuckled a bit, said goodbye, and went our separate ways. We never saw each other again. I wonder what games he might have introduced me to if I’d kept seeing him regularly. Maybe he became a doctor and set up a computer in a secret office. Yeah, I’ll probably get back in touch, just to find out.
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