There is a pop culture trope to which I find myself irresistibly drawn, a kind of modern myth of regression. Adults, often aimless or emotionally thwarted, find themselves stumbling back into the sticky, neon-lit sanctuaries of their childhoods. Not churches, not schools — Chuck E. Cheese-style pizza arcades, where the air smells like old fryer oil and fresh anticipation, and an animatronic animal band plays on, unfazed by the passing decades.
In the short-lived “Napoleon Dynamite” animated series, Kip Dynamite composes tender mixtapes of songs by the Goof Nutz Pizza band — a trio led by a kangaroo, a gorilla and an octopus on drums, naturally—intended to woo the girls of his small Idaho town. On “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” the gang finds spiritual release at Risk E. Rat’s Pizza, where the house theme song commands patrons to “DO IT DO IT DO IT / DO WHATEVER YOU WANT.”
And they do.
It’s not all fiction, either. Almost a decade ago, “Freakonomics” devoted an entire episode to the economic mysteries of Chuck E. Cheese, including the darkly funny question of whether higher menu prices correlated with an uptick in adult brawls — a theory spurred by a spate of viral YouTube videos starring furious grownups throwing punches near the Skeeball machines.
All of which is to say: the line between childhood memory and the chaos of adulthood has always been thinner than we pretend. So perhaps it was inevitable that Chuck E. Cheese would decide to lean in.
This week, as reported by CNN, the company announced it’s launching a new adults-only concept: Chuck’s Arcade, a spin-off designed for the generation that grew up on pizza parties and prize counters. According to a company release, the project is meant as a “modern-day love letter to the games and people who made Chuck E. Cheese great.”
Much like its kiddie counterpart, Chuck’s Arcade offers a blend of retro and modern amusements — classics like Donkey Kong and Mortal Kombat sit alongside newer fare like Halo and Connect Four Hoops. The spirit of the original is intact, too: each location is “overseen” by a member of the animatronic Munch’s Make Believe Band, including, of course, Chuck himself.
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So far, ten locations have quietly opened in malls across the U.S., with sites in St. Petersburg, Florida; Tulsa, Oklahoma; El Paso, Texas; and St. Louis. The design varies by city, with each space featuring original artwork that nods to the brand’s long, weird history.
The expansion follows a turbulent few years for the company, which filed for bankruptcy in 2020 during the pandemic. Since then, Chuck E. Cheese has reportedly spent $350 million on remodeling efforts and pricing overhauls aimed at budget-conscious families.
