
Clean Sweep Vectrex Review: The Hero Is a Vacuum Cleaner
A maze-chase where you play the bank’s vacuum cleaner, the cash fills your bag, and a full vacuum is a slow vacuum: one great system, honestly executed.
From the Vault columnist. Grew up feeding quarters to the Ms. Pac-Man machine at his uncle's pizza place; still owns his childhood SNES and every Nintendo Power he ever begged his mother for. Writes the retrospectives and the hidden-gem hunts.

A maze-chase where you play the bank’s vacuum cleaner, the cash fills your bag, and a full vacuum is a slow vacuum: one great system, honestly executed.

One post, one rotating chamber, and threats converging from every direction: the library’s purest panic, five fierce minutes at a time.

Tim Skelly’s pirates are coming for your fuel, and only two tanks working together can stop them: cooperative play’s founding document.

Cinematronics’ salvage shooter: race the aliens to stranded survivors in the ring of space around a blazing central star.

A spiky hero, a kidnapped Molly and genuine digitised speech from a sound chip: the library’s most charming cartridge, squeaks and all.

The connoisseur’s cartridge: defend a fortress at the foot of a glowing canyon where your own shots ricochet home, in GCE’s darkest original.

GCE’s cavern epic that travelled from home console to arcade: explore the maze, destroy the station, then escape it as it explodes.

From MIT in 1962 to Cinematronics to your desk: two ships, one star, and gravity as referee, in the founding document of vector gaming.

Konami’s scrolling shooter drawn as a single line of light: the fuel-tight, terrain-mean run to the base, in the finest home version of its generation.

The purest arcade experience in the library: besiege a rotating three-ring fortress and thread one shot onto its cannon, in the definitive home version.