A bewildered, far-from-conclusive look at the state of public gaming in Tokyo

My arcade gallery begins with easily my favorite find of my Japan travels: DanceRush Stardom. Notice the on-screen indicator, which looks like a Guitar Hero note grid…
This tells you when to put one foot down (or, in this case, two), and how far to the left or right. Otherwise, you can step as far forward or backward as you please. This affords players an opportunity to truly dance while playing, and dance they did.
Since I was pretty intimidated by the DanceRush spectacle, I instead opted to play a similar game using my fingers. It asks you to tap your fingers on a touchpad to coincide with Guitar Hero-like notes…
…but its gimmick is an “air action” sensor that asks you to snap your wrist at an exact moment, as if you’re also playing percussion.
This game, which didn’t have a name in English characters, drew crowds in many arcades’ “bemani” sections.
This bemani game has a clearer emphasis on crazy-fast piano playing.
This train-conductor cabinet includes beautifully rendered imagery, on par with a high-end computer running Unreal Engine 4.
But the gameplay revolves around driving a legitimate train in safe, fast, efficient, and comfortable fashion. Meaning, no races or crazy stuff. It’s solely for train freaks, and its 900-yen cost-per-play is about eight bucks.
The newest version of Mario Kart for arcades.
Horse racing simulators are no joke in Japan. However, they’re all very dimly lit, so this is the best photo I got. Some of the horse-racing game stations include extravagant set pieces with toy horses on rotors running around a physical track. I’m very, very sad that the photos I snapped of those didn’t turn out.
Shortly after I took this photo of a paid VR arcade kiosk, an employee stared me down and shook his head. Nobody else cared about arcade photos I took; just the VR station handlers. Ah, well.
This new “physical” version of Pong rolled out in Japanese arcades recently. The ball and paddles are plastic pieces, and their movements have an uncanny resemblance to video game movement.
Unfortunately, the delay between trackball twists and your paddle’s movement is laggy enough to make this a pain in the butt to play. But it’s fun to watch.
An apparent tie-in video game as part of the Valkyria Chronicles series.
I just liked this spinny ship wheel as a controller.
Virtual On Versus.
A multiplayer arcade version of Bomberman, with female inclusion.
You might have expected this placard for Bombergirl to include scantily clad cartoon ladies, but this was a surprising example of tasteful female representation in a Japanese arcade. (Most Japanese arcade games include bright, colorful placards made of cardboard.)
Card games are everywhere in Japanese arcades. Here’s an unattended soccer game…
…and here’s how the NFC-enabled “table” screen looks with a full deck. One patron was generous enough to let me take a detailed snap between his sessions as a soccer team “manager,” which had him dragging and rearranging cards to instruct AI-controlled characters on where to go and how to play.
Another card game, in which players manage armies by moving cards around a screen.
A closer look at that machine.
I didn’t see anybody playing this two-year-old Pokemon game, which requires plastic “disks” that contain Pokemon characters (which can be evolved and trained by using them in repeat sessions).
In spite of zillions of arcade games that require cards to operate, I struggled to find any actual card vending machines for these games in arcades. I swear that I looked. Here’s one of only two I saw.
I never figured out what these Paseli cards were about. And the disproportionate cartoon lady nearby wasn’t talkin’.
As an American who grew up near a Battlemech arcade center, I envy Japanese kids who get networked battle-pod arcade games to this very day.
All I could figure out by watching other people play is that the game takes forever to start and never stops feeling slow.
On our way of one Akihabara arcade, and these awesome posters appeared, stuck to a drab wall. There’s a lot of this “cartoon art on drab walls” stuff in Japan.
Behold: Natsuge Museum, the best (and easily tiniest) arcade in all of Akihabara. It’s crammed full of classic Capcom, Sega, and Konami cabinets, including a few classics that never made it stateside.
A closer look at that Super Hang-On bike machine.
The room’s current piece de resistance: a fully functional, riveting Thunder Blade cabinet. (Natsuge Museum regularly rotates its selection, so I was happy to see this one.)
Sit in that chair, grab the throttle, and hold on for dear life.
It’s hard to convey in photos, but this chair weaves and wobbles as you fly through the game, and the sensation is hair-raising.
Plus, the cabinet’s original speakers have clearly been upgraded to kick up a tremendous ruckus.
Kinda makes the room’s other Sega racing classics feel a little wimpy. (Just kidding. These rip, too.)
Natsuge Museum prides itself on operating solely with original hardware and circuit boards for its playable games. I got an awesome look at how the Natsuge sausage is made when one machine broke down mid-session. Yep, that was a live repair, and the game-history nerd in me started freaking drooling.
Notice those gray pods on the cabinets?
Those are some fierce speakers.
Some of these cabinets had stools to sit on, which were loaded with subwoofers. As a result, playing this classic Capcom beat-‘em-up felt like I was in the middle of an earthquake.
Such delicious, classic cabinets, all lined up to match.
What a beaut.
A closer look at some of those cocktail cabs in the middle of the room.
Old arcade posters, original art at the top-left.
Our look at Natsuge concludes with signatures from game-making luminaries.
Off to another legendary arcade, Mikado, down the road from my hotel. Its upper floor included row after row of fighting games. (I had been one block away from this place for nearly a week before seeing Brian Ashcraft’s recommendation on Kotaku.)
This was maybe a fifth of the selection on this fighting-game floor alone.
Dig on those button panels.
One corner was dedicated to turn-of-the-century arcade wrestling games. One of these kiosks is so legitimate that it includes optional Dreamcast controllers.
We move into the back of this arcade’s lower level, and… what’s this in the far-right corner?
A Starblade sit-down cabinet?! This may look like any average oversized ’80s shooting-game cockpit…
…but inside is the wildest mix of early polygonal graphics and scattered, weirdly shaped screens ever seen in an arcade!
But Namco can’t have all the fun here. Here’s Sega with POWER DRIFT.
I get a kick out of this racer, especially with the crazy hydraulic seat in the Japanese cabinet. Otherwise, I think the only people who love this game are Sega Saturn apologists.
Also, some classic Sega licensed baseball.
Japan doesn’t skimp on its sit-down cabinets.
Or its widescreen ones.
A few shmups pile up in this arcade’s lower level.
A magazine about arcades, available to freely read while hanging out in an arcade? I freaking love Japan.

TOKYO—I’m not sure how much of my life has included dreams of traveling to Japan, but I know it’s a majority. I’m a child of the ’80s who grew up pledging allegiance to Japanese video game makers while drooling over the arcade and console games that that nation not only produced, but often had early or exclusive dibs on. Some day, I told myself, I’d go to that magical place.

That dream came true in October, and my two-week vacation included no shortage of time spent playing and checking out video games. As this was a vacation, however, I also made room for a lot of other fun diversions: temple and castle visits, prestigious tea-tastings, gorgeous museums, and om-nom-nomming on unbelievable food. (I’ve already chronicled one food-related discovery I made in Osaka.)

I point that other stuff out only to clarify: this article about arcades, video game merch stores, and board game cafes is by no means a comprehensive, capital-letters State of Japanese Gaming. Instead, this is a look at what you might expect as a surface-level tourist—and it just might dispel a few notions you might have if you’ve never traveled there.

A Mario “art” installation in a hip Tokyo district. Notice that Mario himself is not tagged up or altered in any way, thus playing nicely with Nintendo’s official code on how Mario can be displayed publicly (particularly his exact color palette).

Sam Machkovech
Welcome to Yobadashi Camera, one of Akihabara’s biggest consumer-electronics shops. Before visiting its gaming section, I had to pose with this wonderfully arranged selection of Stormtrooper toys. This looks like a massive, endless field, but it’s really just an arrangement of small-to-large figures very close to each other.
The game section’s PSVR demo wing.
Any “adult” rated games are demoed behind curtains. During my trip, this section was dedicated to CoD:BLOPS4‘s Battle Royale mode.
I didn’t snap photos of the extensive PS4 gaming racks. Instead, I took a photo of its PlayStation Vita selection, which will likely bring tears to the eyes of any American Vita fans.
Anyone familiar with Japanese game-console sales won’t be surprised to know that this was it for Xbox One shelves at Yobadashi.
Nintendo, on the other hand, dominates the shop’s gaming selection.
All the Labo accessories you could possibly stomach.
Splatoon 2 minis, plus swappable outfits.
More Splatoon 2 minis.
Splatoon 2: Meatspace Edition.
The shop’s selection included a surprising variety of Japan-exclusive Nintendo 3DS systems.
I nearly bought this Animal Crossing-themed 3DS.
A full rack dedicated to Nintendo’s “classic mini” consoles.
This rack included other “retro” accessories.
Even more retro accessories.
And now, for Yobadashi’s seemingly endless Nintendo merch parade.
Super Mario Odyssey merch.
Have a real-life Mario party.
All the colors of the Toad and Toadette rainbow.
Captain Toad!
Zelda, Animal Crossing, and Pikmin merch cohabitate.
Above those, I found massive Splatoon and Legend of Zelda pillows.
Not too shabby for a Nintendo canvas bag.
Did you think we were done with Nintendo merch? We hadn’t even started with the Kirby stuff.
I regret not buying the massive Derpy Kirby plush.
Who’s that Pokemon?
Blocky designs, courtesy of one of Nintendo’s free-to-play Pokemon games.
For the sake of full representation, this selection of Dragon Quest toys is roughly half of what the store sells. Japan loves its Slimes.
A little Minecraft stash.
Gotta sock fast!
Square Enix minis.
Board games at Yobadashi. (More to come in a minute.)
Some public art near the Tokyo Art University.
A totally different electronics store. I snapped this solely to point out that, seriously, people in Japan still love the Vita.
Claw-machine cabinets in Japan typically include a single, massive prize, and a pair of flimsy “claws” that must be used to try and budge the loot off a sturdy platform. Most of these revolved around disproportionate anime-lady statues.
But, I confess, I dropped 1,000 yen (roughly $9) on trying to retrieve this xenomorph. (FYI, should you fail and walk away from a machine, an attendant will immediately rush up and reposition the loot, so that any new player must start from square one.)
When you’re looking for rare and interesting retro games, you gotta go to Super Potato.
Three floors of Potato fun!
Before you enter, refresh your memory on Super Famicom trivia.
Why buy a “classic mini” console, when the real thing is bigger (and thus better, obviously)?
A front-and-center selection of rare games for sale.
Not an everyday Famicom find, right here.
More pricey options. (1,000 yen is roughly $9.)
Golden, event-timed Famicom cartridges? Nope, no sale; you just get to drool, suckers.
I love that this grew in price 10,000 yen with the simple addition of a pen-marked “1.”
Super Potato, like pretty much every store in Japan, is dense and cramped. But not every Japanese store includes random Famicom screen cut-outs on the aisles’ ends.
So many Famicom game demos, and with an attached Zapper and a leery-eyed ROB!
I didn’t pick a game; the machine automatically selects games and plays their demo reels.
Another kiosk, this time for the Super Famicom (and with killer Dr. Mario stickers, to boot).
Just like with the Famicom kiosk, this Super Famicom kiosk automatically rolls through various games’ demos.
Arguably the coolest Pepsi promotional toys of all time.
One of each, please.
Why is it that the “not for sale” stuff is always the stuff I want to buy?
Take that last caption, multiply it by five zillion times. Yowza.
Old, old games.
One of my all-time favorite eras.
One of Nintendo’s biggest worldwide duds (the Virtual Boy), alongside one of Nintendo’s biggest Japanese successes (the Famicom Disk System).
I didn’t come all this way to buy stupid NES cartridges.
Super Potato has a modest arcade, as well. You can smoke in said arcade. Ugh.
Yellow Submarine is one of Japan’s leading board-gaming chains; most public board game shops are actually cafes with very meager racks of games for sale.
Yellow Submarine’s racks aren’t meager. This is a multi-story version of the shop, with trading card games (TCGs) segregated from board games.
I bought a few of these, including Tokyo Highway and the small Oink Games products on the top shelf (particularly that yellow box for Maskmen, which was one of my favorite surprise pick-ups). Some Oink Games can be imported for reasonable prices. Tokyo Highway, as of press time, is in desperate need of a Western run.
The Warhammer and war table games section.
A surprisingly robust selection of Western-style war board games.
More particularly small games. If you’re looking for traditionally sized Western and Euro board games, you’ll find a ton of those at Yellow Submarine, too.
Cafe La Siesta is a modest spot in Kyoto with no shortage of retro-gaming influence. This Famicom cartridge wall is a fun one, and each of its three tables includes a way to play classic games while sitting with a cocktail.
Mandarake is an overwhelming shop dedicated to all matter of Japanese tchotchkies, with multiple locations. In addition to its video game selection, it has a few rooms that treat toys and relics like religious items.
As in, you have to walk through veritable temple gates to enter one of its most hallowed halls.

Sam Machkovech
Another look at this Mandarake room’s incredible bubble-glass arrangement.
One Mandarake shop put some of its priciest gaming wares on one convenient shelf.
A rare version of a recent Xenoblade Chronicles package. Over $450 for this rarity.
To conclude my gallery of public “gaming,” let’s take a look at… the weirdest vending machine corner in all of Akihabara. This was recently featured in a Conan O’Brien special about Japan.
These vending machines twist and turn through this building’s strange shape, and most are relatively innocent, with a standard Japanese array of canned drinks… plus one or two weird things. Like the toy baseballs in this one.
Arguably the strangest vending machine at this corner. The text, from what I’m told, is suggestive about sex and adult content…
…but the boxes generally hide simple and innocent fare like children’s candies and cookies.
Popcorn, now with 50 percent more elves.
Ornaments!
Get your potato crisps! Get your toy beetles!

Most of this article’s meat can be found in the captions I’ve written for the above and below galleries. The gallery at the very top focuses on the variety of arcades I visited during my trip, and the second gallery is more about shops.

The top gallery’s absolute highlight is Natsuge Museum, a tiny, cramped arcade that memorializes the earliest glory days of Capcom, Namco, Sega, and Konami as arcade-game producers. Most other arcades are not individually named, as even your run-of-the-mill Taito Game Center or Club Sega (which can be found all over Tokyo and throughout Japan) trafficks in weird and retro games, in addition to modern titles. Thus, games you find at one arcade, you can expect to find at many others.

And the bottom gallery spends a lot of time at Yobadashi Camera, an electronics store in the bustling Akihabara district whose entire top floor is dedicated to video games. It’s not a bad start to getting your finger on the pulse of what Japanese game companies are pushing onto console fans; if we’re talking about floor space alone, Nintendo wins this year’s round. That gallery also includes some retro and rare offerings from delightfully weird shops like Super Potato and Mandarake. And it concludes with a weird version of “public gaming” that you might have seen on a recent Conan O’Brien special.

(If you can’t get enough Akihabara, by the way, my colleague Kyle Orland chronicled his own trip there in 2013.)

In terms of a brief takeaway, I point to a strange mix of intimidating and welcoming content at game shops. Trying to dip a card and launch any given Japanese arcade game can be a terrifying experience, especially with a language barrier, but between copious on-screen instructions and friendly fellow gamers, I was able to relish a few more experiences than my no-Japanese self ever expected.

This is the second part of Sam’s three-part Japan-vacation series. Part three, an interview with American-born, Japan-residing developer Lucas Pope (Papers Please, Return of the Obra Dinn), will go live this month to celebrate his inclusion in Ars Technica’s Games of 2018 feature.

Listing image by Sam Machkovech

https://arstechnica.com/?p=1405813