TIME TO RETIRE AN OLD CLASSIC
Also for: Wii U
One of my most unfortunate traits as a gamer is my firm conviction to play
things chronologically. It haunts me like a curse. If a game is part of a
continuous storyline, like Baldur's Gate or Assassin's Creed,
you can forget that I'm gonna start somewhere in the middle, because I want
full understanding of the plot. And as if that wasn't enough, even a series
like Final Fantasy - where most entries' plot is entirely
standalone - feels wrong to play out of order because I also prefer to follow
the evolution of the design and gameplay.
In the case of the Metroid series, it checks both boxes. Its
gameplay has evolved quite a bit from its yesteryear standards. It also has
recurring characters and enemies, and frequently references past events.
Unfortunately for me, the first game was released in 1986 on the NES, a
platform I rarely touched in my formative years. Its catalogue seems to
consist almost exclusively of impossible games. There's even a phrase coined -
"Nintendo hard" - for this phenomenon. For me, in this day and age, it's
painful to double back and play those games.
Although Metroid is not considered to be one of the harder games, I've
nevertheless bailed out before long every time I tried to play it. The
limited control scheme, checkpoint scarcity and initial gameplay hurdles make it
impossible for me to persevere. I simply cannot bring myself to like the game,
and for the longest time I thought I was too late, that the ship had sailed
for this franchise, that it would have to become yet another disgraceful omission in my
gaming CV.
But thank God for remakes. When I only recently heard of the
Metroid: Zero Mission remake of the classic, my heart skipped a beat.
With the possibility to experience Samus Aran's first story with somewhat
modern design standards I could at least uncheck one of those boxes, a compromise my
brain apparently accepted.
And talk about success - Metroid: Zero Mission is a complete overhaul, vamping
the 8-bit original up to the more timeless 16-bit standards. It features
detailed pixel visuals, approachable interactivity and clever design in most
departments. It adds tons of quality of life improvements and shifts a lot of instructions away from the printed manual to the screen. Simply put, it sends the original into a well-deserved
retirement.
In this sidescrolling sci-fi platformer you control Samus Aran, considered the
most skilled bounty hunter in the universe. All her story interludes (she narrates her own story) are presented through short, unobtrusive animations and text. It's no groundbreaking story, but sets the scene for an atmospheric adventure in an oppressive environment.
After the Galactic Federation
fails to recover one of their research vessels from invading space pirates,
they send Samus to finish the job. She locates the space pirates' base on the planet Zebes, where they attempt
to replicate and exploit the titular Metroids, a race of aliens (resembling jellyfish) who can latch on to other organisms and drain them of their life
force. She must infiltrate the pirate base and put an end to their operation
by destroying the Mother Brain, the mechanical mastermind behind the project.
The rest is history, as the original game went on to establish an entire
subgenre of its own (the Metroidvania, d'uh), in which the adventure and
exploration carries about as much weight as the combat. It famously combined
the platforming element of Mario with the open-world
mentality of Zelda. Metroid games traditionally present an
ever-expanding map that you are free to explore however you wish. This
is so commonplace today that it's hard to grasp what a revelation it must
have been back in 1986.
This remake has top-notch level design, almost always giving clear
indications of where to go next to progress the storyline. Seven
different zones, each with its own unique atmosphere, hazards, music, fauna and
theme, stand between you and the end credits. One of them has toxic waste on ground level, others have boiling hot environments and streams of lava at the bottom. Both hazards require you to find a better suit, otherwise exploring them becomes a pain in the ass.
The handy automap always
displays a marker, but leaves it up to the player to figure out how to reach
it. Whenever you get stuck, carefully examining the surroundings will reveal
new passages, like cracks in the wall that will make them crumble with a
well-placed explosive or by other means.
The smooth, intuitive controls make the movement relatively okay (my
controller isn't the best). But the most enticing thing is the bombardment
of obvious secrets and inaccessible passages, that suddenly open up as you
obtain new powers scattered across the base. Every power feels like a vast
improvement to the experience, with several late-game additions totally
upending what came before. And the game incentivizes you to try them through carefully crafted situations, rather than cumbersome text pop-ups or lecturing tutorials.
My curiosity is hard to sate, but the inventiveness on display here could
have made me settle for half. Even straightforward improvements, like a high-jumping skill, made me go through most areas a second time just to see what
I missed. After about a dozen upgrades, I got way too sloppy and after the
end credits, I learned that I failed to find about one third of all the
items. I already feel an urge to dive back in and find what I missed. Could
I have gained even more unique powers? Or did I only leave some energy tanks
or missile containers?
The bossfights and minibosses range from fair to ridiculously hard, and are
not the game's selling point. One closer to the end - the one that was the
end boss in the NES original - drove me downright insane, as it mistook me
for both a pachinko ball and a bullet sponge. The other ones generally have
some fairly obvious weaknesses to exploit, but it still took me a few attempts to figure them out. The save points are evenly spaced out, but
when the last couple of bosses end with a surprise twist, I wish this game
came with additional checkpoints as well.
In terms of atmosphere, the game presents its H.R. Giger-inspired
setting through evocative backdrops and a haunting soundtrack. Many players
have testified about the sense of loneliness and horror that permeated the
original classic, but I can't say I felt much of that in this remake. The
action is too intense and the visual design not sparse enough to leave my
imagination with many blanks to fill. I also felt way too powerful too
soon.
It's still a really strong experience, just in a different way. If the
original had the atmosphere of the first Alien (1979) movie - at
least back in the day - Metroid: Zero Mission feels more like its sequel,
Aliens (1986). They're both brilliant and atmospheric, but each in
their own way (that being said, though, the first one is my favorite). Zero
Mission perfectly captures the sensation of gaining confidence through the
gradual improvement of your skills over the course of the game - only to end
up in a total loss of control towards the end.
Metroid: Zero Mission is a short (it took me about six and a half hours to
beat), challenging action platformer with just about the right amount of
labyrinthine level design. You cannot play this game casually and expect to
get away with it. It rewards the observant and curious player - dexterity
and good reflexes also don't hurt - and has a pacing second to none. Most
of all I can rejoice in having found a great introduction into the series,
especially after many failed attempts to go back to the NES original.
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