The Hacker is a platform game which attempts to build around the popular pastime of 'hacking', reaching out from your home computer through the phone network and attempting to access information which you weren't supposed to be looking at. In the Eighties, hacking meant expensive modems, big telephone receivers and huge bills at the end of the month. Or, if you play this game, it means collecting floppy discs from a succession of platforms and getting very, very frustrated very, very fast.
I should say at the outset that The Hacker was one of the very first budget games for the Electron. Whilst most publishers wanted upwards of eight quid for their latest game, no matter how questionable its quality, Firebird bucked the trend with The Hacker (and Birdstrike) for just £2.50. However, most gamers - me included! - don't think that if you only pay a third of the price of a full-price game, you should be content with only a third of the quality. And The Hacker isn't just a third of the quality of your average platform game. It's so rubbish that, even if it was given away free with your morning cereal, you'd be unlikely to consider it good value.
Hank the Hacker is a lumbering type of sprite, and he walks with a repetitive thumping noise that will soon have you reaching for the mute button. Jumping is extremely questionable, with Hank insisting on taking at least one more step forward before he obliges. As you might imagine, this either results in a lot of collisions with the patrolling ROM chips, or soon sends him hurtling to his doom off the edge of one of the many platforms he encounters.
Perhaps the biggest sin that The Hacker commits is in the ridiculously short distance Hank is able to fall before he dies. On some screens, it's so short that you won't even consider it a risk when jumping from one platform to another, and will undoubtedly be quite flustered to see Hank expire as a result.
The other sins are of the type that most lazy platformers commit - the strange 'Hacker' sign on the first screen is a case in point. Bouncing up an advertisement to make progress seems bizarre and having to jump onto purple conveyor belts to avoid nasties rather than actually be able to leap over them seems laboured. Not quite as laboured as the appallingly slow speed at which The Hacker actually runs of course.
The game's inlay claims that there are twelve screens to complete, but there are in fact only eleven because one screen is repeated twice. In case you weren't bored enough by it the first time round.
Probably because of its pocket money price, The Hacker was one of those games which everyone in the Eighties seemed to have. I played it quite a bit in my youth, particularly because it has an-built cheat mode that allows you to play any screen you choose. (The cheat is activated by typing HELP on the main screen.) However, even then I was disappointed that none of the screens were designed with much imagination. Yes, you may wring a few moments of enjoyment out of it if you really try, but if you compare it to the kinetic thrills of Chuckie Egg (for example), there is literally no contest. No-one sane would convince you that The Hacker is a better game. In my opinion, it really puts the "terminal" into terminal boredom.
If you, nevertheless, want to add The Hacker to your collection, it comes in two versions, The original release shows a screenshot of the game in action and is for the Electron only. The later release has a cover showing a confused-looking man trying to strangle himself with analogue telephone wires and has the BBC version on the reverse side. Each version tends to sell for £1-£2.