October 1991: Marshall Gram ain't no Time Gal
by Diamond Feit
Even though I live with two teenagers, I have no idea how they view the future. We speak of college and potential employment options but never broad questions like \"what do you think our planet will look like in 30 years?\" I should probably raise the issue one of these days but I don't want to distract them from watching YouTube non-stop.
That sounds cynical but I don't hold their viewing habits against them. I remember my time as a teenager and the sheer desperation of turning on the television and searching for something worthy of my attention. Video-on-demand existed back then but only for movies and only for a handful of recent-ish films all playing on a loop, so you still had to make sure to tune in when they started. Also each viewing cost $5 in an era when renting a videotape cost far less.
Yet I still saw all of this as incredible progress compared to my earliest years when cable television was the domain of the wealthy and network television consisted of just three channels. My entire childhood was a parade of technological advancements; my elementary-school self would never believe what my high-school self had access to, to say nothing of my current lifestyle.
This steady ascension of innovations prepped me to anticipate a future packed with breakthroughs. When AT&T aired their infamous \"You Will\" series of commercials, I saw them as promises that the progress I witnessed growing up would continue unabated into the 21st century. Watching those clips today, it's impressive how many of their predictions proved accurate.\u00a0
Of course, not every pledge regarding high-tech society came true. Tales of flying cars predate my birth but we remain decades away from parking aircraft in suburban garages. LaserDiscs mesmerized me in the 80s but by the time I bought a player in the 90s, they were already on the way out in favor of DVDs. Of course, DVDs only won out when the competing format, DIVX, failed at retail.\u00a0
Between the absolute fantasy of driving the friendly skies and the utter plausibility of remote meetings sits the humble hologram. From classic sci-fi movies to stickers on children's toys, holograms looked like three-dimension images compressed into two. Surely as computing power and circuitry advanced, holograms would replace all forms of traditional video entertainment\u2014just like on Star Trek where television \"did not last much beyond the year 2040.\"
35 years ago this month, Sega snuck a sample of our all-hologram existence into arcades. The strangely-shaped cabinet and unconventional visuals turned a lot of heads, but as a video game Time Traveler couldn't live up to the hype.
To understand Time Traveler we must closely examine its unique hardware. A rounded, white shell surrounds the cabinet with the primary video display located underneath the control panel. From the player's perspective, they look down into a curved cutout where, thanks to a concealed mirror, the characters appear as if floating in midair.
Crucially, Time Traveler lacks any screen at all, adding to the illusion that its imagery takes up three-dimensional space. In behind-the-scenes interviews, creator Rick Dyer explains the difference. \"Most holographic projections, you're always separated by plastic or film,\" he says, \"With the Time Traveler, you can actually reach out and touch that character.\"
This optical trickery conjures an air of uncanniness which Time Traveler builds upon with real people acting out its many scenarios. The costumed cast performed various stunts on camera shot against a green background. Artists and programmers then edited the footage, adding visual and audio effects. The machine streams the finished product from a LaserDisc into the playfield. Keep in mind this was made in 1991, a full year before anyone played Mortal Kombat.
With the tech talk behind us, how does one actually play Time Traveler? Astute readers might recognize the name Rick Dyer as the creator of Dragon's Lair, another LaserDisc-powered arcade game from the early 80s. In both cases, players watch video footage and look for cues before pressing a button or the joystick to react. Do it right and the game proceeds; do it wrong and the on-screen character dies.
Time Traveler\u2014as its title implies\u2014unfolds across various eras in history. Before pressing start, players can meet Princess Kyi-La and hear her plea for help in dealing with a rogue scientist named Vulcor who threatens \"to rend the very fabric of time.\" The princess addresses the player directly, asking them to assist the heroic Marshall Gram who \"cannot succeed\" on his own.
Time Traveler includes one notable element not seen in older LaserDisc games, the Time Reversal Cube. Players start with one Cube; if they make a mistake and Marshall Gram dies, using the cube rewinds a few seconds so they can try again. Notably, an in-game Trader sells additional Cubes to players for real-world money, a very early example of microtransactions in gaming.
Speaking of money, Time Traveler cost a lot to produce and to play. According to a 1991 Los Angeles Times article, Sega spent $2 million developing the game and its bespoke equipment. I couldn't tell you how much arcade operators had to shell out to get a unit for themselves, but considering its one-of-a-kind design it must have rung up four figures or more. Those expenses inflated the per-game asking price; old footage shows kids inserting 75 cents to play\u2014three times the standard fee. At least the Time Reversal Cubes only cost one quarter apiece.
Time Traveler arrived in arcades with a solid gimmick, a futuristic sheen, and graphics that guaranteed to make passersby stop in their tracks. The amount of press coverage found online today demonstrates how amazing this machine looked in action. Clearly, video games would forever fall into two categories: Before Time Traveler and After Time Traveler.
This did not happen for a number of reasons which I suspect Sega realized all along. First off, the simplistic \"press X to not die\" gameplay was already dated by this point. Dragon's Lair made a name for itself and spawned imitators, but none of them achieved the notoriety of Rick Dyer's original.
Any game built around pre-existing video, whether it's gorgeously animated or cheesy live-action, requires players to memorize the on-screen antics in order to win. In an arcade setting, getting good enough to do that demands deep pockets. I'll bet lots of people played Time Traveler exactly once, recognized its shallowness, and never continued.
The reach-out-and-touch-em graphics also carry multiple caveats. The projections of the actors stand only a few inches high, making them much smaller than the vibrant, detailed characters seen in traditional arcade games of the 90s. Aside from an assortment of geometric shapes physically placed inside the cabinet, Time Traveler offers no landscapes to view or any background art at all. Everything takes place in a void like a minimalistic Broadway play.
I remember seeing a Time Traveler cabinet at the movie theater in the Jefferson Valley Mall, a go-to hangout spot for me and my friends as teens. I know I marveled at the machine and the tech but it didn't take long for the magic to fade away, especially when I could spend my quarters and time with Street Fighter II and its incredible roster of ruffians.
On that note, Sega and Rick Dyer did themselves no favors by picking a cowboy as the main character; kids of my generation did not grow up watching Westerns. I say this with no disrespect to the stuntman who played the part but Marshall Gram isn't even a cool cowboy like Clint Eastwood or Mister Billy The Kid. His outfit has no accouterments of interest, he startles easily, and he has the temerity to say \"Winners don't use drugs!\" with blood that's at least 22% whiskey by volume.
Time Traveler feels like a proof-of-concept, an impressive setup begging for better software. Sadly, so-called hologram gaming never took off. Sega took a second swing with Holosseum, a 1992 fighting game conversion kit that dropped the LaserDisc but kept the mirrored effects. Featuring only four characters who face off in a vacuum, Holosseum flopped and no Time Reversal Cubes could recover those losses.
Holograms, at least as a buzzword, remain in the zeitgeist. Projected light onto a stage has empowered digital creations like Hatsune Miku to hold concerts before sellout crowds. For the less-scrupulous, holograms offer an opportunity to create soulless simulacrums of the deceased to exploit their legacy for cash. At least Time Traveler had the decency to hire living actors and dress them as cavemen and wizards.
In recent years Sega has looked to its past for material to sell in the 21st century with a focus on arcade hits like Shinobi, Golden Axe, or Crazy Taxi. There's a non-zero chance that Time Traveler might return someday, though probably not as an expensive custom installation. Given the company's professed fondness for generative AI, perhaps we'll get a life-size Marshall Gram who can greet visitors at the Tokyo Game Show and warn us about the dangers of opioids.
Writer/podcaster/performer Diamond Feit has written professionally since 2009 and contributed to Retronauts since 2018. Look up feitclub on social media or visit Diamond's lofi website.
", "contentSnippet": "October 1991: Marshall Gram ain't no Time Gal\nby Diamond Feit\nEven though I live with two teenagers, I have no idea how they view the future. We speak of college and potential employment options but never broad questions like \"what do you think our planet will look like in 30 years?\" I should probably raise the issue one of these days but I don't want to distract them from watching YouTube non-stop.\nThat sounds cynical but I don't hold their viewing habits against them. I remember my time as a teenager and the sheer desperation of turning on the television and searching for something worthy of my attention. Video-on-demand existed back then but only for movies and only for a handful of recent-ish films all playing on a loop, so you still had to make sure to tune in when they started. Also each viewing cost $5 in an era when renting a videotape cost far less.\nYet I still saw all of this as incredible progress compared to my earliest years when cable television was the domain of the wealthy and network television consisted of just three channels. My entire childhood was a parade of technological advancements; my elementary-school self would never believe what my high-school self had access to, to say nothing of my current lifestyle.\nThis steady ascension of innovations prepped me to anticipate a future packed with breakthroughs. When AT&T aired their infamous \"You Will\" series of commercials, I saw them as promises that the progress I witnessed growing up would continue unabated into the 21st century. Watching those clips today, it's impressive how many of their predictions proved accurate.\u00a0\nOf course, not every pledge regarding high-tech society came true. Tales of flying cars predate my birth but we remain decades away from parking aircraft in suburban garages. LaserDiscs mesmerized me in the 80s but by the time I bought a player in the 90s, they were already on the way out in favor of DVDs. Of course, DVDs only won out when the competing format, DIVX, failed at retail.\u00a0\nBetween the absolute fantasy of driving the friendly skies and the utter plausibility of remote meetings sits the humble hologram. From classic sci-fi movies to stickers on children's toys, holograms looked like three-dimension images compressed into two. Surely as computing power and circuitry advanced, holograms would replace all forms of traditional video entertainment\u2014just like on Star Trek where television \"did not last much beyond the year 2040.\"\n35 years ago this month, Sega snuck a sample of our all-hologram existence into arcades. The strangely-shaped cabinet and unconventional visuals turned a lot of heads, but as a video game Time Traveler couldn't live up to the hype.\nTo understand Time Traveler we must closely examine its unique hardware. A rounded, white shell surrounds the cabinet with the primary video display located underneath the control panel. From the player's perspective, they look down into a curved cutout where, thanks to a concealed mirror, the characters appear as if floating in midair.\nCrucially, Time Traveler lacks any screen at all, adding to the illusion that its imagery takes up three-dimensional space. In behind-the-scenes interviews, creator Rick Dyer explains the difference. \"Most holographic projections, you're always separated by plastic or film,\" he says, \"With the Time Traveler, you can actually reach out and touch that character.\"\nThis optical trickery conjures an air of uncanniness which Time Traveler builds upon with real people acting out its many scenarios. The costumed cast performed various stunts on camera shot against a green background. Artists and programmers then edited the footage, adding visual and audio effects. The machine streams the finished product from a LaserDisc into the playfield. Keep in mind this was made in 1991, a full year before anyone played Mortal Kombat.\nWith the tech talk behind us, how does one actually play Time Traveler? Astute readers might recognize the name Rick Dyer as the creator of Dragon's Lair, another LaserDisc-powered arcade game from the early 80s. In both cases, players watch video footage and look for cues before pressing a button or the joystick to react. Do it right and the game proceeds; do it wrong and the on-screen character dies.\nTime Traveler\u2014as its title implies\u2014unfolds across various eras in history. Before pressing start, players can meet Princess Kyi-La and hear her plea for help in dealing with a rogue scientist named Vulcor who threatens \"to rend the very fabric of time.\" The princess addresses the player directly, asking them to assist the heroic Marshall Gram who \"cannot succeed\" on his own.\nTime Traveler includes one notable element not seen in older LaserDisc games, the Time Reversal Cube. Players start with one Cube; if they make a mistake and Marshall Gram dies, using the cube rewinds a few seconds so they can try again. Notably, an in-game Trader sells additional Cubes to players for real-world money, a very early example of microtransactions in gaming.\nSpeaking of money, Time Traveler cost a lot to produce and to play. According to a 1991 Los Angeles Times article, Sega spent $2 million developing the game and its bespoke equipment. I couldn't tell you how much arcade operators had to shell out to get a unit for themselves, but considering its one-of-a-kind design it must have rung up four figures or more. Those expenses inflated the per-game asking price; old footage shows kids inserting 75 cents to play\u2014three times the standard fee. At least the Time Reversal Cubes only cost one quarter apiece.\nTime Traveler arrived in arcades with a solid gimmick, a futuristic sheen, and graphics that guaranteed to make passersby stop in their tracks. The amount of press coverage found online today demonstrates how amazing this machine looked in action. Clearly, video games would forever fall into two categories: Before Time Traveler and After Time Traveler.\nThis did not happen for a number of reasons which I suspect Sega realized all along. First off, the simplistic \"press X to not die\" gameplay was already dated by this point. Dragon's Lair made a name for itself and spawned imitators, but none of them achieved the notoriety of Rick Dyer's original.\nAny game built around pre-existing video, whether it's gorgeously animated or cheesy live-action, requires players to memorize the on-screen antics in order to win. In an arcade setting, getting good enough to do that demands deep pockets. I'll bet lots of people played Time Traveler exactly once, recognized its shallowness, and never continued.\nThe reach-out-and-touch-em graphics also carry multiple caveats. The projections of the actors stand only a few inches high, making them much smaller than the vibrant, detailed characters seen in traditional arcade games of the 90s. Aside from an assortment of geometric shapes physically placed inside the cabinet, Time Traveler offers no landscapes to view or any background art at all. Everything takes place in a void like a minimalistic Broadway play.\nI remember seeing a Time Traveler cabinet at the movie theater in the Jefferson Valley Mall, a go-to hangout spot for me and my friends as teens. I know I marveled at the machine and the tech but it didn't take long for the magic to fade away, especially when I could spend my quarters and time with Street Fighter II and its incredible roster of ruffians.\nOn that note, Sega and Rick Dyer did themselves no favors by picking a cowboy as the main character; kids of my generation did not grow up watching Westerns. I say this with no disrespect to the stuntman who played the part but Marshall Gram isn't even a cool cowboy like Clint Eastwood or Mister Billy The Kid. His outfit has no accouterments of interest, he startles easily, and he has the temerity to say \"Winners don't use drugs!\" with blood that's at least 22% whiskey by volume.\nTime Traveler feels like a proof-of-concept, an impressive setup begging for better software. Sadly, so-called hologram gaming never took off. Sega took a second swing with Holosseum, a 1992 fighting game conversion kit that dropped the LaserDisc but kept the mirrored effects. Featuring only four characters who face off in a vacuum, Holosseum flopped and no Time Reversal Cubes could recover those losses.\nHolograms, at least as a buzzword, remain in the zeitgeist. Projected light onto a stage has empowered digital creations like Hatsune Miku to hold concerts before sellout crowds. For the less-scrupulous, holograms offer an opportunity to create soulless simulacrums of the deceased to exploit their legacy for cash. At least Time Traveler had the decency to hire living actors and dress them as cavemen and wizards.\nIn recent years Sega has looked to its past for material to sell in the 21st century with a focus on arcade hits like Shinobi, Golden Axe, or Crazy Taxi. There's a non-zero chance that Time Traveler might return someday, though probably not as an expensive custom installation. Given the company's professed fondness for generative AI, perhaps we'll get a life-size Marshall Gram who can greet visitors at the Tokyo Game Show and warn us about the dangers of opioids.\nWriter/podcaster/performer Diamond Feit has written professionally since 2009 and contributed to Retronauts since 2018. 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