The excellentexposed the wider world to the strange subculture of classic video game high score competitions in 2007. Now that the ensuing quest for ever higher and higherscores looks like it's coming to an end , it's the perfect time for a new documentary focused on an even stranger sub-niche: players who spend days "marathoning" classic arcade games for high scores. In other words, it's the perfect time for Man vs. Snake: The Long and Twisted Tale of Nibbler

Man vs. Snake (currently available for download and in an extremely limited theatrical run) includes a number of amusingly candid quotes along the lines of "What the fuck is Nibbler?" You'd be forgiven if you were thinking the same thing; the 1982 release's mix of Pac-Man and Snake gameplay failed to impact the arcade marketplace at the time, and it wasn't a massive seller for jukebox manufacturer Rock-Ola, either. But the game did catch the eye of Tim McVey, who became the first person ever confirmed to score 1 billion points on any video game in early 1984, winning himself a Nibbler arcade cabinet in the process.

McVey's feat was only possible because Nibbler is part of a certain subset of classic arcade games that are amenable to marathoning. Because the game continues to give extra lives at regular intervals (and because the game's speed and endlessly repeating mazes stop getting harder at an early point), the only thing limiting a skilled player's score is their ability to stay awake and focused at the machine for hours at a time. While a Donkey Kong high score run only takes three or fours hours to complete, getting a top score on Nibbler can easily take 40 hours or more of mind-numbing repetition (save for occasional breaks where the player trades a few extra lives for a few moments of rest).

Man vs. Snake starts off by chronicling McVey's teenage quest for that storied billion points at Twin Galaxies, a local Ottumwa, Iowa, arcade that also happens to be the headquarters for the Twin Galaxies International Video Game High Score listings. It's an entertaining introduction, told via interviews with the participants and charmingly animated interludes that bring their recollections. King of Kong fans will recognize Kong competitor Billy Mitchell and Twin Galaxies head referee Walter Day, both of whom play colorful and key roles in the saga.

From McVey's salad days as a minor '80s video game celebrity (and still probably the only gamer to get an official civic day proclaimed in his honor), the movie quickly shifts to the present day and a 40-something McVey's efforts to recapture his faded glory. As the film follows McVey and interviews him about his efforts to get 1 billion points once again, it opens up to the much wider and weirder world of Nibbler marathoning that has continued to develop over the decades.

We soon meet Enrico Zanetti, an athletic Italian who local media reports documented as beating McVey's score just months after his 1984 performance. Questions about the validity of that score (which was not initially recognized under Twin Galaxies' stringent rules) and the international trash talk surrounding it initially seem like a promising plot thread for the film. Neither McVey not Zanetti seem willing to fully engage in the potential controversy, though, making Zanetti's tale not much more than a meandering side story to the main narrative.

The film really gets going once we meet Dwayne Richards, a manic, disheveled arcade repairman and Nibbler competitor who serves the same "bad boy" antagonist role that Mitchell served in King of Kong. McVey and Richards' continuing battle to best the billion-point scores of the '80s eventually leads to a live, side-by-side battle for Nibbler supremacy at the 2009 MAGFest classic gaming convention. I won't give away the result of that competition (or its aftermath), but I will say that issues of transportation, fatigue, machine failure, and even the possibility of ROM chip hacking all play into the battle's surprisingly gripping outcome.

Through it all, McVey's wife Tina is an inspiring fountain of support, sticking with Tim through his quixotic quest for another billion points. Though Tina doesn't seem to fully understand what's compelling Tim on his quest, she definitely supports him and is willing to go through a lot to aid his high score-chasing efforts. The pair's obvious love forms a strong, human connection point for a story that could otherwise threaten to get bogged down in technical minutiae.

For a movie that covers multiple 30-hour-plus marathons of a man sitting at an arcade cabinet, Man Vs. Snake is incredibly well-paced, generally cut down to show only the most dramatic moments without getting stuck on any one area for too long. Yet the film also does a good job of capturing the mind-numbing tedium of playing the same incredibly basic game for days at a time, as well as the mental and physical strain of staying perfectly focused on a task for that long. There are a few moments where the film descends into an off-putting, hyper-self-aware cheesiness, but these low points can probably be forgiven when you take into account the baseline ridiculousness of the film's subject.

Though McVey's aging, overweight frame doesn't seem a likely vessel for a story of athleticism, his struggle ends up being as gripping as any good tale of an athlete fighting to regain the success of their youth. By the time you get to the climactic marathon session that anchors the last third of the movie, it's nearly impossible not to sympathize with McVey's quest or feel totally invested in the eventual result (don't look it up if you don't know it already).

Man Vs. Snake proves that you don't need a game as popular as Donkey Kong or a personality as engaging as Billy Mitchell to anchor a story about the endlessly fascinating subculture of score chasing. There's compelling human drama to be found even in the story of a man spending days sitting in front of an arcade machine you've likely never heard of, and Man vs. Snake manages to find it.