In 1981, computers were still mystified and regarded as something not meant for the average user. Sinclair Research was already working hard and successfully breaking down those taboos with its incredibly low prices, though with extremely limited capabilities. Atari had also already released its first home computers. Commodore, too, was in the race—not only with its educational “PET” computers but also with its first true home computer, the VIC-20. Still, the most important representative of that era was only just stepping onto the stage. The Commodore 64 would take over the scene and set Europe apart as the last major market that did not embrace game consoles as the primary form of electronic entertainment.
The beginning of this computer was anything but ordinary. Commodore, which had been dealing with business calculators (CBM stood for Commodore Business Machines) and educational/school computers (the famous PET series), was preparing to release a home computer and claim its share of a rapidly growing market. But instead of developing their own technology, as was common at the time, they decided to acquire it elsewhere. At that moment, a small Canadian company, struggling with financial problems, had just developed a sound and graphics chip for a new arcade board. That board was designed to load games from cassettes and keep them in memory, while the best scores would be stored in a small memory module powered by a replaceable battery—a concept similar to the one SNK would use 12 years later in its revolutionary Neo Geo MVS.
Commodore immediately put its paw on it and, without any problems, bought the company. Soon after, the Commodore VIC-20 appeared, equipped with all the graphic and sound advantages needed to win over the public. It was successful, but not to the extent they had expected. Shortly after that computer came the Commodore 64. They had improved the graphics and sound chips, memory control as well as its size, and of course the operating system, which at the same time was also the programming language BASIC.

Although in Europe the success of “the Fatty” (the most popular nickname for the Commodore 64) was incredible, the picture was quite different in the rest of the world. In North America, after three successful years competing with Atari’s consoles—where it held major hardware advantages—it was quickly beaten down by Nintendo’s NES. In Asia and Japan, it almost never appeared at all. For Japan, a special version was made, the Commodore MAX, which was also released in 1982. It was a stripped-down version of the Fatty with a rubber flat keyboard. A completely irrational move on Commodore’s part, as they tried to break into a market oversaturated with low-end machines (in fact, this version of the C64 was developed for the entire world but was very rarely offered outside of Japan). Only in South American markets did it achieve anything resembling moderate success.
From a gaming perspective, the main problem in the system’s early years was the relatively poor quality of games. Most titles of that era could be played just as well on older, weaker computers and consoles. Even the arcade conversions it became known for were mostly poor in quality, with only a handful of exceptions. Nintendo’s monopolistic policies prevented everyone else—including Commodore—from obtaining the rights to convert the most popular games of the time and improve their standing. Still, little by little, the quality of games improved, and the early hits became legends overshadowed by the sudden rise in standards. One of the main reasons for this was probably the largest base of game creators ever. Nearly one in ten Commodore 64 owners tried making their own game. The vast majority were trash that even the poorest publisher wouldn’t release, but there were also brilliant ideas, great gameplay, and astonishing technical feats. This led to the publication of more than 10,000 commercial games for the Fatty—an incredible number, though sadly with only a small percentage of truly high-quality titles.
Beyond the quality of the games, the medium itself had a big impact. Although cassettes were cheap to produce, they had several significant drawbacks. First, piracy was made easier by the format, which of course had a negative effect on game developers. In addition, loading from cassettes could take up to 15 minutes, which was far from ideal. The ability to design games in multiple parts was crippled by the need to rewind tapes and rely on an imprecise built-in counter. On top of that, the 64KB of memory didn’t leave much room for large-scale games.

The disk drive solved almost all the problems (piracy remained). Games loaded quickly, they could consist of many parts and thus break through the 64KB barrier without the need for tedious rewinding. There was no need for the even more annoying head alignment either. But the price of a disk drive was almost the same as that of the computer itself, and the same went for the space it took up. As time passed, the disk drive—just like the computer—became cheaper and significantly smaller, and it began to appear more and more often in households. This led to a large number of games that required it and to breaking past the memory limitations.
But before moving on to the Fatty’s unique specialty, let’s take a closer look at its much-praised hardware. The entire computer was packed beneath the keyboard in a case shaped like a breadbox (this version is actually known as the “Breadbox”), in a light cream color with slightly darker keys. Beneath it pulsed Motorola’s 6510 processor, running at a very uneven clock rate, multiplied to provide the base frequency for the video signal. The processor was quite advanced for its time, so its frequency of about 1 MHz delivered very satisfactory results—especially considering that it hardly dealt with graphics and sound at all (it only had to redirect data from memory to the appropriate chip, nothing more). The power transformer was separate, sitting halfway along the power cable.

Graphics were handled by the VIC-II (Video Interface Controller), whose very name revealed its origins. It had hardware support for sprites sized 21×21 pixels with 4 colors. In addition, all 8 supported sprites had their own registers, so full control over them could be handed off to the hardware, including collision detection. Officially, the graphics were at a resolution of 320×200×16 colors, but with an important limitation of only 2 colors per 8×8 block. There was also a so-called Color Mode, where the restriction was 4 colors per 8×1 block, but the resolution dropped to 160×200.
The SID chip, responsible for the Commodore’s sweet (and not so sweet) sounds, was also revolutionary among home computers. It was a three-channel sound synthesizer capable of generating tones across 7 octaves. What made it stand out, however, was that it was the first true sound synthesizer in home computers, which meant it could even reproduce digitized audio recordings—though only at 8-bit quality and a maximum of 11 kHz, which was SID’s limit. In addition, it could successfully interpolate a fourth channel, but due to the heavy load this placed on the CPU, that mode was rarely used.
The Fatty’s unique specialty was overcoming hardware limitations. It sounds strange, but over time, ways were discovered to do things the computer’s designers would have sworn were impossible. It all started with displaying sprites in the border—the part of the screen beyond the reach of the graphics chip, which could normally only change colors. But the active screen area could be shifted or stacked in such a way that some elements could be placed outside it. From there began an endless series of tricks, undocumented commands, and chip bugs that produced fascinating results.
The pinnacle was definitely the IFLI graphics mode, which gave the Fatty a theoretical resolution of 320×200×128 colors (the maximum actually achieved was 87, and the image shook like crazy while the processor was running at nearly full capacity), as well as forcing the controller chip in the original 1541 disk drive to perform mathematical operations, freeing up the CPU for other tasks. Finally, we should mention a little program called Gigaload, which sped up disk access by an incredible factor of seven!

Openness and expandability were another key factor in its success. On the side were two joystick ports (identical to those on the SEGA Master System, though underutilized since the joysticks had only a single button), as well as the power connector. The back, however, held the real treasures. Alongside the RF (antenna) output and the cassette connector, there was a Memory Expansion port—which allowed for the wildest experiments thanks to its unmatched flexibility—then the User Port, which was essentially a parallel port, and the Serial Port, used among other things for connecting the disk drive. There was also a composite video output for connecting to a monitor.
The add-ons that appeared for the C64 were truly diverse and sometimes genuinely unique. Starting with the standard ones, such as mice and various mass storage devices (there was even a SCSI-type hard disk controller), all the way to the truly exotic, like video signal processing adapters (a unique case among 8-bit home computers), oscilloscopes, speech modules, scent sensors, and all sorts of imaginable and unimaginable contraptions. These add-ons made it a cheap solution for many amateurs and enthusiasts, and even professionals, as an aid in various tasks. A well-known case involved a British company that used them to control wood-turning lathes in the production of traditional furniture.

With a user base like this usually comes an equally strong underground scene. The Commodore 64 probably had the strongest—and certainly the most fanatical—demo scene. Demo group gatherings were on the scale of today’s events, often occupying multiple exhibition halls. Competitiveness was at the highest possible level, and while the atmosphere was tense in the sense of proving who had pushed their beloved machine to the furthest limits, it was also relaxed in terms of camaraderie and closeness among people (with a few necessary exceptions, unfortunately). Nearly all major programming breakthroughs and the strongest tricks were born here. The greatest proof of this fanaticism is the fact that this demo scene still exists. True, it has shrunk to about a dozen small groups, but at most demo scene gatherings there is still a C64 category, with plenty of individual entries alongside those groups.
Successors
The success of the Commodore 64 naturally led to a series of successors and variations. First came a line of computers aimed at small businesses and private entrepreneurs. These machines were faster, with reduced or weakened features important for gaming, but with built-in ROM-based programs for text processing and spreadsheets, and of course a 7501 processor running at 1.76 MHz.
These were the Commodore 16, 116, and Plus/4. Then, in the same year as the latter two, came a serious business computer in true Commodore style—the Commodore 128. Despite having twice the memory, a better processor (the 8502 at 1 MHz), an improved disk drive, greater expandability, an additional Z-80 processor for compatibility with the then-critical CP/M operating system, and a powerful built-in machine code editor, the most famous feature of this computer was its nearly perfect compatibility with the C64 model, for which it even had a dedicated mode. Later, a redesigned version with a separate case was released to give it a more professional appearance.

The true successor was supposed to appear in 1991 under the name Commodore 65, but aside from a few non-functional prototypes, nothing ever came of it. It was meant to have superior graphics and sound capabilities compared to Commodore’s flagship at the time, the Amiga—though with a weaker processor and less memory. It was also supposed to include a built-in 3½” floppy drive with a 1MB capacity, but the hardware problems were too great, and the project was abandoned.

C64 in Our Country
The first “Fattys” arrived here in 1984, just like in the rest of Europe. It wasn’t until around 1988 that they really started to become widespread (a standard six-year delay for us). Naturally, piracy was an important factor in choosing a home computer here, as was size (smuggling was common—because of this, the C64 could compete with the Spectrum in our country longer than it did elsewhere in Europe). On the other hand, this delay spared us the first 2–3 years of poor-quality games and threw us straight into the golden age. Although in the late 1980s and early 1990s computer enthusiasts in our country were seen as a world wonder, Commodore made the most convincing breakthrough and finally eroded the taboo of the “computer in the home,” even though it primarily served as a gaming machine.
Design and Versions
Besides the basic dark cream breadbox design, a few other versions appeared. First was the C64-C, which introduced a white case similar to the 128’s, but with a recessed back. This created problems with a few hardware add-ons, so the design reverted to the breadbox shape, now in white. Both models featured redesigned, more integrated motherboards that had minimal compatibility issues thanks to the new sound chip. The first disk drive was eventually replaced by a new, smaller model, which was criticized by demo groups because it could neither play disks on its own nor be directly controlled by the new controller; in addition, it was less durable than its predecessor and prone to overheating during extended intensive use.

