THE ECSTASY OF SPACE EXPLORATION
At long last, here is the saving grace of the Super Mario 3D All-Stars collection. After the first two disappointing entries — Super Mario 64 and Super Mario Sunshine — I began to fear that I was simply immune to the joy of theoretically ingenious platformers. I could not tolerate their poor execution: dreadful controls, a treacherous camera, and level design that only amplified those flaws.
Super Mario Galaxy corrects all of that. It fulfils the promises of its predecessors and surpasses them by introducing a gravity-defying core mechanic that finally works. Although I never played it at release, it has aged with remarkable grace. The visuals remain striking, the soundtrack buoyant, the atmosphere relentlessly cheerful. Despite its advanced physics — with Mario often running upside down or along vertical surfaces — it controls like a dream.
One of the things I value most in games is the anticipation of progress: reaching a milestone, unlocking something new, sensing momentum. Super Mario Galaxy excels here without relying on skill trees or locked chests. Simply unlocking a new galaxy — discovering its ideas, vistas, and surprises — feels like progression in its purest form.
As in earlier 3D Mario games, each stage revolves around collecting a Power Star. To reach it, you navigate clusters of tiny planets, ships, and abstract structures, slinging yourself between them using vines, launch stars, or gravitational pull. Each collected star powers up the central observatory, your hub, from which new galaxies gradually open up.
The observatory itself, overseen by Rosalina, is full of secrets: extra lives, hidden galaxies, and NPCs. In its library, a surprisingly somber and imaginative story about Rosalina’s past unfolds the more stars you collect — a quiet incentive to continue long after the main goal (saving Princess Peach from Bowser) is within reach.
Super Mario Galaxy is anything but linear. You can hop freely between galaxies, and within them the game constantly shifts perspective. One moment you’re navigating spherical planetoids; the next, you’re pulled into a planet’s core and suddenly playing a side-scrolling segment where gravity flips between up and down.
Other galaxies experiment just as boldly: rolling massive balls across precarious courses using motion controls, climbing towering beehives while temporarily transformed into a flying bee, or racing through kinetic obstacle tracks. Boss fights punctuate the experience, each built around clear, readable mechanics. Even cleared galaxies can change when comets appear, altering win conditions and unlocking bonus stars.
Given the franchise’s history of camera-related frustration, this level of variety could have been disastrous. Instead, Nintendo makes a crucial choice: player control over the camera is often restricted. The result is vastly improved framing and clarity. You’re never fighting the viewpoint — only the challenge ahead. Rather than setting traps, the game actively wants you to succeed.
Failure is far more forgiving than in earlier entries. You rarely lose meaningful progress, checkpoints are generous, and falling into a black hole is usually a brief inconvenience rather than a punishment. Mario’s familiar moveset remains intact, platforms are sensibly sized, and extra lives accumulate quickly.
The controls are precise, though the motion-control segments can occasionally be frustrating, depending on your controller. Playing the Switch remaster with a Pro Controller meant occasional awkward waggling that felt less than ideal. A few motion-heavy challenges crossed the line into irritation, and one hidden level was difficult enough that I simply abandoned it.
Fortunately, Galaxy offers so much variety that this barely matters. New worlds unlock at a steady pace, while others are hidden behind interactions with Lumas — star-shaped NPCs who open paths once fed enough star bits. These bits double as ammunition, stunning enemies before a spin attack or jump finishes them off. Conservative play is rewarded too: collecting 50 star bits in a level grants an extra life.
With so many mechanics in play, the game could easily have felt disjointed. Instead, its cohesive presentation — bold colors, imaginative shapes, and a consistently stellar soundtrack — binds everything together. No matter the activity, momentum carries you forward. It’s difficult to stop playing.
Super Mario Galaxy isn’t hard, especially if you rush the main path. Safety nets abound: health-boosting mushrooms, forgiving checkpoints, and ample retries. It’s arguably the easiest 3D Mario game — and better for it. Difficulty matters less than fairness, and Galaxy understands that distinction perfectly. Failure usually feels earned, not arbitrary.
The game accommodates different playstyles effortlessly. You can approach it leisurely or push yourself, switching between the two at will. The experience always feels player-driven.
If you played this back in the day, take it from someone who just finished it for the first time: your nostalgia is justified. Super Mario Galaxy is a masterpiece.
Individual stages may blur together — orientation is often impossible, with up, down, and cardinal directions losing meaning entirely — but this spatial disorientation becomes a strength. The worlds are so abstract and fragmented that they resist memorization, making the game endlessly replayable. Returning to it years from now will likely feel like rediscovery.
Mark my words: this is a future Hall of Fame entry. And if Super Mario Galaxy 2 ever gets a Switch release, I’ll celebrate it like a brand-new game.
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