Final Fantasy VI – A Retrospective Review

If you’re in the market for a good Japanese role-playing game, the SNES is a good place to start. From Square’s exceptional Chrono Trigger, Secret of Mana and Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars to the first two instalments of the Breath of Fire series and EarthBound, many of the most well-known and popular games in the sub-genre come from Nintendo’s second home console. Before Square moved their focus to Sony’s PlayStation, the Final Fantasy series also found a residence on Nintendo’s consoles. The last of the Final Fantasy games to be released on Nintendo’s home consoles until 2003, Final Fantasy VI brought a change of setting from the standard fantasy setting with some anachronisms found in the previous games to an amalgamation of fantasy and industry which persists to this day.

Final Fantasy VI is set one thousand years after a devastating war of magic which threatened to destroy the world. Two belligerent sides fought for control of magic and the potential it could bring before both sides were annihilated and nearly brought to extinction. In the years proceeding, humankind rebuilt, developing steam engines, gunpowder and industry. However, the power of magic wasn’t forgotten about, and one particular group, having become an industrial powerhouse, wished for more than their machines could bring them.

The game follows the story of Terra Branford, a peculiar young woman who has been discovered to have magical powers. These powers brought attention to her from the Empire, who have managed to create their own sort of magic with the amalgamation of the power of the magical beasts known as Espers with machinery. At the start of the game, Terra is under the control of the Empire using mind control, and is sent to the industrial mining town of Narshe with two Imperial soldiers to investigate the appearance of a frozen Esper in the mines.

The guards of Narshe resist the Imperial attack with valour, but ultimately pointlessly. Before long, the Imperial party reach the Esper, but the overwhelming power of the magical beast destroys the two Imperial soldiers before they can act, while leaving Terra alive and free of the mind control. Woken up later by a sympathetiser who saved Terra before the citizens of Narshe could capture her and try her for her ostensible Imperial activities, she finds that the mind control has caused amnesia. She is led out of the town by an anti-Imperial treasure hunter named Locke Cole, and before long, the pair are on a journey to find other anti-Imperial sympathisers to fight.

While the story in Final Fantasy VI may seem over-familiar to long-time players of JRPG games, it was distinctive in its time for taking the series away from the Crystals which had been an important element until then. The in-battle gameplay seems similiarly familiar to begin with, using the standard ATB (Active Time Battle) found in the other SNES games in the series, with turns being determined by the filling of an action bar which progresses over time. A bit more sophistication comes into the battles with the characters’ special skills, ranging from Locke’s Steal ability, to Edgar Figaro’s Tools command which gives him more battle flexibility, to Sabin Figaro’s Blitz command which depends on button sequences to unleash powerful martial arts attacks. Battles progress quickly, without the extended fighting animations of later games in the series, and even though random encounters are frequent, they don’t hold up the rest of the gameplay significantly.

Out of battle, the game begins as boilerplate linear JRPG plot-driven action, but Final Fantasy VI is notable for being a game of two distinct parts in this regard, with a complete shift of gameplay from linear progression to an open-world sandbox which owes more to the Western tradition of role-playing games than the series’ native Japan. Whether you will enjoy this element of the game depends on your motivations in a role-playing game, but it is a bold step and really does allow for character motivations to be explored in greater detail.

In any case, the game’s progression is aided by a fluent translation from Ted Woolsey, which despite some technical limits and limitations imposed by Nintendo regarding death and some of the more adult elements of the game, manages to create an excellent ambience on its own. His work is particularly significant when regarding the demented, cackling Kefka, a villainous madman who is presented as an ambassador to Emperor Gestahl early on in the game, and becomes a significant force against the characters of the game. Woolsey’s work manages to grant additional malevolence to Kefka, all to the favour of the game.

From a graphical standpoint, Final Fantasy VI is not the most impressive game on the SNES, nor is it even the most impressive game in its genre – the later Chrono Trigger presenting higher resolution and clarity to the graphics. However, with a vivid palette and a distinctive graphical style, the graphics do manage to go beyond functional, and despite the prevalence of palette-swapped monsters from the random encounters, the game cannot be faulted in this regard.

As with previous games in the series, the musical soundtrack was created by the veteran Nobuo Uematsu, and with Final Fantasy VI, he created a masterpiece. I can think of individual pieces of game music which transcend this game’s pieces; Chrono Trigger‘s “Magus Confronted” and Half-Life 2: Episode 2‘s “Vortal Combat” come to mind. Yet, I can’t readily think of a soundtrack which I would regard as consistently good as the one in Final Fantasy VI. A full set of leitmotifs for the game’s characters, an outstanding world map theme and a rousing set of battle themes for random encounters and boss battles combine with a multi-part, seventeen-minute long final boss theme which rates among the greats. Music even plays a small part in the gameplay beyond simple ambience in one of the game’s most well-known parts.

All in all, players of Final Fantasy VI can expect about forty hours of gameplay, which may fall short of the hundred-plus hours found in later games in the series, but which is devoid of the extended battle animations found in Final Fantasy VII and such. In any circumstance, forty hours feels right for the game; it is long enough to sate one’s hunger for the gameplay and plot without dragging on. The scale of the game also feels appropriate considering the length; it is sweeping and grandiose without reaching the heights of pretension.

As with all games, Final Fantasy VI does contain some flaws. Clearly, the battle system wasn’t playtested as much as it should have been, as it proves remarkably easy to break the game’s difficulty by exploiting glitches. Apart from some legitimate strategies near the end of the game involving certain items and magical attacks, there are several ways to unfairly win difficult battles. The Evade/Magic Block system was broken, with all attacks checking versus Magic Block rather than Evade, making it remarkably easy to create a character with the ability to avoid nearly every attack. The blindness characteristic is completely broken, not doing anything at all to all but one of the characters, and even then only affecting some skill learning. More egregiously, it is possible with the application of certain magical attacks to kill nearly every enemy in the game including bosses with two attacks flat. Even considering that the game is not terribly difficult to complete anyway, this is just a clear case of a broken battle system.

A frustrating element comes later in the game, where eight or twelve of the fourteen-character list are required to progress in some of the dungeons. While I acknowledge that this was designed to encourage the player to use all of the characters evenly, it isn’t aided by the fact that some of the characters are useless unless trained, and that training these characters takes a lot of grinding. Other characters are just useless in general, not living up to the potential of others.

Nevertheless, I very much enjoyed playing this game. Despite its age, it still stands up well to present-day RPGs, with a sweeping story which leaves few characters without resolution, well-crafted gameplay which works along traditional JRPG mechanics, but feels more involving than the standard turn-based system, and a beautiful soundtrack which helps create a sense of ambience throughout the game. The change of style served the game well compared to its predecessors, making something that felt distinct from the boilerplate fantasy which is common among RPGs, and the two-part gameplay was a bold move which may not entertain everybody, but which brings two types of RPG gameplay into one game.

Bottom Line: Final Fantasy VI is one of the pinnacles of the SNES-era JRPG, with grand scale, relatively sophisticated gameplay and a barnstormer of a soundtrack.

Recommendation: If you consider yourself a JRPG fan, you owe it to yourself to play this game. People trying out the genre for the first time would be recommended to start elsewhere, but to return to the game when they have the mechanics of a JRPG down.

Revolutionary Technology in Formula One: The Mid-Engine Configuration

In 1950, when Grand Prix motor racing acquired the Drivers’ World Championship, run under the recently-formulated Formula One rules, the cars were distinctive for their long noses, grille-protected air intakes and decidedly rear-mounted driver position. By the start of the next decade, the cars of the leading teams had changed utterly, with sleek, cigar-like aerodynamic bodies, spaceframe chassis and mid-rear-mounted engines. Anybody who wasn’t willing to conform to the mid-engined revolution was left in the dust, and 1960 would see the last win for a front-engined car in Formula One.

Like forced induction, the history of mid-engine configuration in Grand Prix racing goes back before the Second World War. Germany’s Silver Arrows were easily the dominant Grand Prix cars of their time, using the technological might of Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union to their advantage. These ferociously powerful cars would eventually produce almost 600 bhp at their peak, with which they managed to dominate every year of racing from 1935 to the breakout of the Second World War in 1939, only losing a single Grande Épreuve during these five years. While Mercedes-Benz used the traditional front-engined layout for their W25, W125 and W154 cars, Auto Union took a different strategy, placing their engines behind the driver. With a swing axle suspension system on the rear, the Auto Union cars acquired a reputation for evil handling even by the standards of the time, but the cars were powerful, fast and won many races.

Auto Union never ventured into the voiturette category that would form the basis of the post-war Formula One rules, and so the cars of 1950 stuck exclusively to the conventional front-engined layout that had been common among the other competitors in pre-war Grand Prix racing. However, with the success that Auto Union had attained with the mid-engine layout, it was only a matter of time before somebody attempted to make a car with the engine behind the driver again.

The party responsible for reviving the mid-engine design was the Cooper Car Company. This constructor of racing cars, founded by Charles and John Cooper in 1946, had started out with motorcycle-engined Formula Three cars in the early 1950s and worked their way up to Formula Two cars by 1957. According to John Cooper, matters of expediency led to their first Formula Three cars being developed with a mid-engined layout, as the motorcycle engine more effectively ran the rear wheels using a chain than a propeller shaft. Nevertheless, this proved to be a matter of serendipity.

With the exception of a few flirtations with four-wheel drive by various constructors, Formula One cars have always been driven exclusively through the rear wheels. The placing of the heavy metal block of the engine nearest the driving wheels of the car brings benefits regarding traction, which was useful in the low-compromises world of Formula One. The mid-engine design philosophy also allowed for better weight distribution, meaning less inertia and less inclination towards understeer, which was a problem for the front-engined cars that had taken over Formula One. By the time Cooper introduced their first rear engine model into Formula One, the cars were using considerably more sophisticated suspension than the Auto Unions of the 1930s, and the double wishbone suspension fitted to both front and rear went a long way in curing the snap oversteer apparently common to the Auto Unions.

Cooper introduced its first works Formula One car in 1957, the Cooper T43. A few cars were built for the works effort, and a few sold to privateer racers who ran them to Formula Two rules. The car’s first race was the 1957 Monaco Grand Prix, where the cars in the hands of Jack Brabham and Les Leston ran with 2-litre Coventry Climax engines which were 500cc smaller than the front-runners in the Maserati and Vanwall cars. Nevertheless, in this most attritional of races, Jack Brabham managed to finish in sixth place, just one place off a point in the 1950s scoring system. Later in the season, Roy Salvadori bettered this with a point at the 1957 British Grand Prix at Aintree, scoring the first ever point for the Cooper Car Company. It was to be the first of several.

1958 brought greater fortunes for the Cooper team. A considerably longer Championship season, coinciding with the introduction of the new International Cup for F1 Manufacturers, gave Cooper cars more opportunities to score, and with several privateer entries running the Cooper T43 and newer T45, both under the Formula One and Formula Two engine rules, there was some opportunity to compete against the more powerful Vanwall and Ferrari cars which would end up competing for the first International Cup for F1 Manufacturers.

The season started well for Cooper, not as a consequence of their works effort, but instead of the Cooper-running privateers, the R.R.C. Walker Racing Team. The first two races of the season were won by the privateer team, the first-ever wins for a rear-engined car in Formula One, one at the hands of Stirling Moss, and another win by Maurice Trintignant. Very quickly, Cooper had earned vindication for its peculiar design philosophy, and they would continue to compete for points and podiums throughout the rest of the season. The team finished third, even with a significant power deficit versus the top constructors.

The 1959 season was to prove more successful still. Cooper introduced its T51 model for its works effort and the Rob Walker Racing Team, now fitted with a full 2.5 litre Climax straight-four. With this engine fitted, Cooper cars managed to win five of the eight championship Formula One races that year, along with three of the five non-championship events. Jack Brabham took his first title after winning two races and scoring points in all of the races he finished. The only team that managed to compete with the superior Coopers with their more even weight distribution were the Ferraris, but their more powerful V6 engine only managed to win them the German Grand Prix, held for the first and last time at the simplistic AVUS circuit, which comprised two extremely long straights and a set of hairpin turns, and the French Grand Prix, held at the long, fast Reims-Gueux circuit.

It was interesting that it should be Scuderia Ferrari that was challenging Cooper in the 1959 season. The team had demonstrated a bit of a conservative streak, catalysed by Enzo Ferrari who only reluctantly pursued technological improvements that weren’t applicable to the engine. The Ferrari team therefore did produce some very powerful engines, but tended not to apply as much care to the chassis. In the battle between Italian power and British ingenuity, the British were proving that power wasn’t much good without control.

By the time the 1960 season rolled around, other teams had begun to take notice just how much potential there was in the mid-engine layout, and some of them had followed suit. Team Lotus, run by Colin Chapman, who would himself prove to be an innovative engineer later on, had adopted the layout for their Lotus 18 model, while BRM followed suit with their P48 model. Ferrari remained steadfast with their Ferrari 246, despite its increasing irrelevance. The 1960 season would show the error of their ways, as they slipped to third in the International Cup for F1 Manufacturers, far behind the victorious Cooper, who managed six victories out of nine events, and another Drivers’ World Championship for Jack Brabham.

Team Lotus also used their new mid-engined car to their advantage, taking two of the remaining wins in the season. In comparison, Ferrari managed one win, aptly at their home Grand Prix at Monza, but this was a rather assured victory after the leading British teams protested the event, which was run on the alarmingly quick ten-kilometre Monza layout incorporating the banked oval. Their other results during the year would prove to be disappointing, and Phil Hill’s victory at Monza would be the final championship race victory for a front-engined car. By 1961, even Ferrari had conceded; their dominant 1960 Formula Two car was a useful development tool for a Formula One series which had greatly decreased the maximum engine displacement. Amusingly, Ferrari would demonstrate greater success with 1961’s Ferrari 156 than they had during the last two years of running their obsolete front-engined car.

There was to be one more moment of glory for a front-engined car, a consequence of one of the flirtations with four-wheel drive alluded to above. The Ferguson P99 was a demonstration project using Harry Ferguson’s novel new four-wheel drive system, and was made front-engined by necessity. The 1961 International Gold Cup was a non-championship event held at Oulton Park, and while the P99 had not proved especially successful in the other races it had contended, with a significant weight disadvantage, the superior traction of the four-wheel drive system aided it in the wet conditions that prevailed that day, taking the victory at the hands of Stirling Moss.

Thus ended the era of front-engined Formula One cars. Every car on the grid was rear-engined by 1962. Cooper would not find much success in the 1.5 litre formula in Formula One, while two other British teams, Team Lotus and BRM, proved more suited to such rules. Team Lotus would go on to become a great innovator in its own right at the hands of Colin Chapman, while BRM would have its moment of glory in 1962, remaining competitive throughout the three following years, before disastrously introducing the overweight H16 engine which powered its cars in 1966 and 1967. Ferrari had mixed success during the early 1960s, easily taking the championship in 1961, but faltering for the next two years before taking another International Cup for F1 Manufacturers and a Drivers’ World Championship in 1964.

Revolutionary Technology in Formula One: The Turbocharger

This week, the FIA announced their confirmation that Formula One will be adopting 1.6 litre V6 turbocharged engines with energy recovery systems from 2014 onwards, to replace the current 2.4 litre naturally-aspirated V8 engines currently being used. This, of course, will not be the first time that Formula One has adopted turbochargers, nor even the first time that turbochargers were mandatory. The last time that turbochargers were adopted in Formula One, they began as a joke and ended up as essential kit for any competitive team.

The history of forced induction in Formula One begins right at the beginning of the World Drivers’ Championship itself, where Formula One had formalised its rules allowing pre-war 1.5 litre supercharged “voiturettes” to compete with 4.5 litre naturally-aspirated engines. The equivalence formula, supposed to provide a bit of competition between the two different forms of air induction, ended up with Alfa Romeo’s 158 and 159 supercharged models dominating Formula One for the first two years, before the switch in the World Drivers’ Championship to Formula Two rules.

The Alfettas, as they were known, produced a staggering 425bhp at their peak power in 1951, which couldn’t compete with the pre-war supercharged engines of Mercedes-Benz or Auto Union, but which was still far ahead of the naturally-aspirated engines of the time. Even the higher fuel consumption of the Alfettas couldn’t keep them from taking a near clean sweep of the championships in 1950 and 1951. However, as legal engine sizes dropped drastically during 1952 and 1953, a 750cc supercharged engine proved uncompetitive against the 2 litre naturally-aspirated engines of Ferrari. Enzo Ferrari had identified that supercharging would be a dead-end in the future, as supercharged engines were held back on their ability to rev by extension of the operation of the supercharger. When the World Drivers’ Championship returned to Formula One rules in 1954, allowing 2.5 litre naturally-aspirated engines, but retaining the size of forced induction engines at 750cc, forced induction remained a formality in the rules for several years.

This opened up the stage for Renault more than twenty years later. Renault had recently begun experimenting with turbochargers on their sports car engines and were winning races by 1975. This gave them the idea to attempt to use the clause allowing forced induction engines in Formula One, which had been largely ignored since the domination of the Alfettas. Unlike superchargers, which were spun by the engine, the turbocharger was driven by exhaust gas, therefore not inhibiting the engine’s ability to rev. In 1977, Renault entered Formula One with the RS01.

It was not an instant success. The RS01, most famously driven by Jean-Pierre Jabouille, started off as a slow, overweight car with frightful turbo-lag, and notably made little use of the other revolutionary technology being demonstrated in Formula One at the same time, ground effect. The RS01 was mocked by other teams in the paddock, who had seen how difficult the car was to drive around the tight street circuit of Monaco and how unreliable the new engine was, and who referred to the car by the derisory nickname of “the yellow teapot”.

Evolution was quick, however. In 1978, Renault won the most prestigious race in sports car racing, the 24 Hours of Le Mans, using a turbocharged Renault-Alpine A442 with the turbocharged 2 litre sports car engine which had previously won at Mugello, but a win eluded the French team in Formula One for quite some time. Jabouille scored the team’s first points with a fourth-place finish near the end of the 1978 season with a refined RS01, and the team’s first pole position at the fast sweeping track of Kyalami in South Africa in 1979.

Renault entered 1979 with a further-refined RS01 and a team-mate for Jean-Pierre Jabouille in René Arnoux, but it was the introduction of the RS10 during the mid-season which cemented Renault’s place as a competitive team. The 1979 French Grand Prix at Dijon-Prenois brought the first victory for the new team, with Jabouille taking victory in a French car in front of a French crowd. René Arnoux almost made it a Renault 1-2 after competing with Gilles Villeneuve in perhaps the best and most famous battle for position ever captured on camera, with a wheel-banging performance that lasted almost two laps.

The turbocharger had proven its point with a storming performance which made everybody in the paddock take notice. The turbo-lag problem had been mostly solved with the introduction of twin turbochargers to force air into each cylinder bank individually, although reliability still plagued the engines. Soon, Ferrari, Brabham and Alfa Romeo were researching turbocharged engines of their own. Ferrari were the next team to introduce a turbocharger into their car, using the smaller 1.5 litre V6 in 1981 in order to best exploit ground effect, which was difficult with the large flat-12 which had stormed to victory in 1979, but had faltered in 1980 after years of success. However, Ferrari were never to win a Drivers’ Championship with the technology, with their best result being a handful of Constructors’ Championships in 1982 and 1983.

Brabham, Alfa Romeo and Toleman (running a Hart turbocharged engine) were the next to experiment with the technology in the unpredictable and controversial 1982 season. These engines proved fragile, even with their outstanding power which commonly put the Renaults and Brabhams among the front rows, and it was the naturally-aspirated Cosworth DFV in Keke Rosberg’s car which would grant him the Drivers’ Championship of 1982, the last championship which a naturally-aspirated car would win until turbochargers were banned. Brabham’s BMW M12 and Renault’s EF1 engine seemed especially prone to embarrassing failure, often failing the drivers and allowing the tried-and-tested Cosworth engines to capitalise, as much as it was possible in a season which had no clear ascendant driver.

1983 would be the first dominant year of turbocharged cars, just as ground effect was banned. Twelve of the fifteen races in the season were taken by turbocharged cars, with a handful of victories for Cosworth-powered cars, usually at twisty street circuits where the additional power of the turbos was less significant. Despite their efforts in introducing and developing turbochargers, Renault would fail to take either championship that year, losing out on the Drivers’ Championship when Alain Prost’s turbocharger failed him at the last race of the season at Kyalami, handing the victory and a second World Championship to Brabham’s Nelson Piquet, and losing the Constructors’ Championship to the more reliable pair of Patrick Tambay and René Arnoux. The loss of both championships led Renault to sack Alain Prost, leaving the driver to go to a very un-French team at McLaren, running a very un-French engine from Porsche, with a Luxembourgish turbocharger.

This proved to be a fortuitous move for the Frenchman, ending up at a team which was just at the start of its dominant period where it would take all but one Drivers’ Championship between 1984 and 1991. The TAG-Porsche engine proved to be outstanding, with a mix of reliability and power which led Prost and the recently-returned World Champion, Niki Lauda, to fight for the championship in a season where few other teams were to attain victories, and none of those in naturally-aspirated cars. The Cosworth DFV family which had led so many drivers and constructors to their championships was now completely overshadowed by the far more powerful turbocharged engines which were present in all but two teams’ cars in 1984.

Niki Lauda would later take the Drivers’ Championship by the smallest margin ever, after Prost’s victory at a wet Monaco track had resulted in half-points after the race was stopped, in conditions where an unfancied Toleman driven by the rookie, Ayrton Senna, had almost taken victory for a team which had been one of the first to experiment with turbochargers. In either case, it was a resounding success for the forced induction engines. Tyrrell, the only Cosworth-running team that seemed capable of fighting for race victories, would later be disqualified from the championship for a technical infringement which swept excellently-fought podiums for both Martin Brundle and Stefan Bellof from the records.

By 1984, the gulf in power between the turbocharged engines and the Cosworths was extreme. The Cosworths produced somewhere in the order of 520 bhp; the turbos could produce in excess of 700 bhp in race trim, and more than 1,000 bhp in qualifying. In a vain attempt to produce some sort of equivalence formula for the two engines, FISA had introduced a fuel restriction of 220 litres at room temperature for the turbocharged cars, which were more fuel-hungry than the Cosworths, just as the supercharged 1.5 litre engines had been less frugal than the 4.5 litre naturally-aspirated engines in 1950 and 1951.

Nevertheless, 1985 proved just as dominant for turbochargers, if not necessarily for McLaren, who managed their Drivers’ Championship for Alain Prost through greater consistency and reliability than Ferrari, whose engines let them down at the last four races of the season. Once again, only two teams, Tyrrell and Minardi, were using naturally-aspirated engines, and both had secured turbocharged engines by the end of the year. Power outputs were creeping up to absurd values; the BMW engines in the Benettons of 1985 and 1986, derivatives of the BMW that had won the 1983 championship for Brabham, claimed 1,350 bhp in qualifying trim. Other engines were producing close to 900 bhp in race trim, an amount which wouldn’t be equalled until the early 2000s, by which time the engines were being held in check by traction control systems.

The Williams team, the privateers which had claimed the last title for a Cosworth-engined car, had begun to show striking performance with a Honda engine which was producing more power than the until-then supreme TAG-Porsche engine in the McLaren. Honda, which had previously competed in the 1960s with a factory effort, clearly saw the chances for glory in this engine formula which rewarded smaller engines, a particular strength of the manufacturer of dominant motorcycles and small cars. Even with the further-restricted fuel tanks, this time restricted to 195 litres per race, power outputs remained high.

With no way to enforce a reasonable equivalence formula, FISA, for the first and so far only time in the history of Formula One, banned the use of naturally-aspirated engines for 1986. This had left the privateer teams scrambling to find suitable engines. Some of them were lucky enough to get proven Renault designs, such as Lotus and Tyrrell. Others were left with unreliable Alfa Romeo and Motori Moderni designs which did not have the backing of a powerful manufacturer, and which broke down far more often than not. The class of the field was clearly the Honda engine in the back of the Williams FW11, and Alain Prost only won the second of his four Drivers’ Championships by capitalising on the squabbling between Nigel Mansell and Nelson Piquet. The sport had become a competition between the haves and the have-nots, and the power outputs of the turbocharged engines had become too high for comfort.

Naturally-aspirated engines were reintroduced in 1987, with a larger 3.5 litre capacity in order to increase power. FISA’s plans were to allow turbocharged engines for a further two years before forbidding them entirely, but with the knowledge that pitting the turbos against the naturally-aspirated engines directly was a lesson in futility, Formula One gained an additional two championships for 1987, the Jim Clark Trophy and the Colin Chapman Trophy, for drivers and constructors of naturally-aspirated cars respectively.

Again, Honda power proved dominant, with McLaren no longer able to compete effectively with the TAG-Porsche engine, and Williams and Lotus competing for the Drivers’ Championship. However, greater consistency with Alain Prost and Stefan Johansson at least gave McLaren second place in the Constructors’ Championship, with the team of Nelson Piquet, now a three-time champion, and Nigel Mansell easily taking first place. Tyrrell’s use of the Cosworth DFZ gave them both the Jim Clark and Colin Chapman Trophies, with Jonathan Palmer’s performance being strong enough to earn the team seven of the eleven points they earned in the normal Constructor’s Championship, with Philippe Streiff earning a further four points and sixth place for the team among the rest of the constructors.

1988 was the final year allowing forced induction engines. Some constructors, including Williams, who had lost Honda power to McLaren, used naturally-aspirated engines in their cars in preparation for 1989, and with a more stringent 155 litre fuel tank restriction and turbocharger pressure limited to 2.5 bar, it was hoped that there would finally be some sort of equivalence between the turbocharged cars and the naturally-aspirated engines. It wasn’t even close to being a fair competition. Despite all of these restrictions, the McLaren MP4/4 would go on to dominate the season in a fashion that no car had managed since the 1952 season.

With two of the best drivers in the sport, the most powerful engine, an extraordinary chassis from Gordon Murray and Steve Nichols and a team which had a lot of recent championship experience, the McLaren team won 15 of 16 races during the season, and perhaps only lost the Italian Grand Prix because of Ayrton Senna’s overambitious overtake on Jean-Louis Schlesser at the Rettifilo chicane. Gerhard Berger’s win at Ferrari’s home track at the first Italian Grand Prix since Enzo Ferrari’s death was highly popular, yet it did little to overshadow the fact that McLaren had been so dominant that if there hadn’t been an interesting battle between Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost, the season would have little to commend itself by. For many teams, the return to naturally-aspirated engines would have been all too welcome at this stage.

In the preceding years, as constructors had to become accustomed to their new engines, McLaren was still strong, but never as dominant as they were in 1988. Competition came from Ferrari, returning to the V12 engine design that had become their trademark and using a semi-automatic gearbox which was unreliable but which would eventually itself become a revolutionary technology in Formula One, along with Williams with their new Renault V10. While engine power increased as manufacturers figured out how to make their engines rev faster, and the early 2000s brought 900 bhp, 3 litre V10s which matched the race output of the turbocharged engines, nothing would ever compete with the ferocious qualifying engines of the 1985 and 1986 seasons.

Amusingly, considering that FISA tried to restrict turbocharged engines by limiting their fuel, turbocharger technology has improved to the point where turbo engines are being introduced again to save fuel over the high-revving V8 engines currently being used. Power from the 1.6 litre V6 turbos could easily match the engine power of today, although it remains to be seen how the engines will be restricted. It will be interesting to see if the turbocharger will once again become revolutionary in Formula One in a new generation, this time for a very different purpose than its original intention.