I’ve spoken about Frontier, the sequel to the seminal 80s classic Elite, here before. It’s the game solely responsible for my continued pursuit of space trade-’em-ups, a genre which, on paper, sounds like the most boring in history. Fortunately, there are odd exceptions where it all works in practice, and Frontier was my First Encounter. Frontier joke for you there.
Although the initial draw of Frontier is obvious enough - it was one of the earliest ‘open-ended’ games, giving you an entire populated universe to pootle around in - I suppose it’s hard to explain why the game is so far up the list. I admit that Hardwar was a better-formed game in a similar vein; Frontier has no plot to speak of; and, having revisited Frontier repeatedly over the years, its flaws and numerous bugs become more and more glaringly obvious as the years go by.
But that’s just it: the fact I have revisited the game at all. It holds a special place in my heart as a game I poured days of effort into, and although I’d be lying if I said it never got old - the inevitable space battles Frontier throws at you if you venture into unfriendly space are boring and repetitive, especially when you’re stuck in a seemingly unending series of them - I kept coming back. There was something indefinable about the game. It’s hard to explain.
While my recent experience with EVE Online was disappointing, I’ll tell you why. It was because I had loved Frontier, and fantasised about an online version where the other ships plying the space lanes were piloted by real people. Well, here was EVE, and it was a reality. It was boring. Was I disappointed? You bet I was.
So then, Frontier. I can only come up with lame arguments for why, but man, it deserves its place here. And check it out: it’s survived the test of time. Perhaps reason enough in itself.
