Borrowed Nostalgia 01 - Super Metroid 3

This kicks off EGS's retro reviews column, 'Borrowed Nostalgia'. This was written for both Metroid experts and novices alike; as it was also written from the perspective of modern audiences. In other words, this column will seek to answer the following questions about each game it analyzes: A) What's the game like? (background info, basic info) B) How does it hold up against age? (comparisons to newer games, discussions of innovation, etc) And ultimately, C) Should you play it?






                                                     BORROWED NOSTALGIA 01

SUPER METROID (METROID 3) REVIEW:                                                    By Jorin Lee

 

Aside from lunatics who buy and instantly love every new game, simply because they're told to by jerk-off reviewers like me, gamers generally take the stance of 'Those were the days' in regards to the 'classics'. The most banal final fantasy cutscene, or the most unintuitive and confusing Alone in the Dark puzzle section, inspires tearful remembrance from gamers who haven't replayed said games in years. It's hard to recapture the thrill of first experiences - as any hentai addict sick with the memory of his or her first tentacle will tell you, human beings generally exalt their formative experiences on a pedestal. And we usually glorify the classics beyond realistic parameters, because our memories are often inseparable from the nostalgia they provide. The games of yesteryear prove elusive to qualify on a universal scale, due to watershed technological advancements that distinguish each era. Can GoldenEye 64 really be compared to Call of Duty 4? Is Ocarina of Time or Super Mario Bros 3 really the greatest game of all time?     No. To answer in the affirmative would be to say that video games reached their pinnacle years ago. But replaying older games should prove invaluable for modern gamers, and not only for testing how those iconic games of the past hold up today. Despite the wear of age, the Golden Age of Gaming (86-99) presents examples of a kind of design philosophy that has fallen out of use by current gen devs: these classics were made before the Hollywood-ization of the Industry (06-present), and its blanketing over practically every genre. Golden Age games of the SNES era don't feature gritty photorealism, eye popping graphics, sensational set pieces, or character development out of a Michael Bay movie. And that's great.

The difference in gaming philosophy doesn't end there: specifically in the case of 1994's Super Metroid, this game simply doesn’t cater to the modern concept of ‘user friendly’ as it’s iterated in contemporary games. It doesn’t talk down to the player, and it doesn’t waste time ‘stupid-proof’ing its beautiful design. Super Metroid allows itself to provide you with an actual challenge. Moreover, its emphasis lies in its core elements: gameplay, level design, immersion, subtlety. Unlike newer games that prioritize fun-without-the-risk, gaming without challenge, spectacle without engagement - whereas new games draw too much from action blockbusters in attempts to dazzle audiences into feeling that their money was well spent - Super Metroid cuts all that bloat and fat in lieu of a more lean, purer, wholly more gratifying and rewarding experience. Instead of trying to be an interactive action movie, Super Metroid just goes for being a video game. And it's this aspect to Metroid 3 that makes it still relevant, even after 18 years of supposed 'advancements' within the industry.    



                                                              - DESIGN -


  Super Metroid has no cut scenes, past the initial expository intro. It’s two dimensional. Its color palette is limited, compared to modern games. According to the prevailing myth that 'bigger is better', Metroid 3 should prove practically unplayable. But weirdly enough, all of these apparent weaknesses actually work to strengthen gameplay.

In every art form, selection always grants meaning: which means in this case, the games limitations actually bring focus to its essential elements. The fixed camera angle and limited palette actually grant the developers precision over Super Metroid’s style. Each stage is color coordinated for dramatic effect: and the graphical simplicity allows the programmers to load the foreground and background layers with minute detail and little flourishes (we’ll talk more about this in the ‘IMMERSION’ section). This all works together to provide what Egoraptor, in his Mega Man X review, called ‘theming’. Due to graphical limitations of the day, the developers had to rely on subtlety to get across the unique concept of the Metroid series: space exploration and adventure. Nowadays developers could load their game up with more obvious markers to convey this theme, like a lot of obnoxious cutscenes or over indulgent set pieces: back in 1994, theming was reliant on subtlety.     To give a specific example: Super Metroid progresses similarly to a platformer. But the horizontal progression of games like Super Mario Bros 3 would have diminished the sense of depth and scale necessary for a space/ planet exploration game to really immerse the player in its own theme. Concordantly, Super Metroid’s level design rarely runs from left to right in a straight line: it parachutes diagonally, up, down, and in all directions. And to keep everything ordered, the devs use the two dimensionality to arrange the levels by segments, which fill up the screen and the eyeline. A lot of the game is in finding hidden openings in the level: because of the aforementioned visual structure of each area, you feel a real sense of accomplishment in uncovering the hidden passage. You begin to notice small details in the level design, which clue you in on where to find the secret areas. And as you discover these new areas, passages, and rooms, your sense of scale is constantly changing. And because the mise-en-scene is preordained, every step you make feels smooth and cohesive.

This game also teaches you how to play itself through subtle means. For example, instead of bombarding the player with information out front, little clues are embedded in the level design. This is a common facet of classic SNES games: they follow the age old adage of ‘show-don’t-tell’. In Metroid 3, this might come in the form of showing you a section of an area you need to get to in order to progress, or in placing respawning enemies just in front of a tough area so you know to farm for health and items. But no matter what, the game conveys what you need to know through its level design.     Which brings us to another important point: Super Metroid is difficult, but not in a cheap or inane way. Its meticulous programing is arranged as to provide the player a challenge of skill: you have to think before acting, utilizing everything the game teaches you in conjunction with your own cunning and skill, in order to beat the game. Therefore when you achieve victory, it actually stays with you: because you didn’t just go through the motions, you actually engaged the game, learned, and overcame its rigors.


                                                                    - AESTHETIC -

    First off, this game just looks amazing. Colors pop in spacey blues and reds, and as you traverse different sections of the planet, the game progressively grows darker and more alien in its appearance. The game score helps imbue Super Metroid with its psychological component. Keiji Yamamoto (the game’s composer) and the Developers of Nintendo R&D 1 know the importance of music in setting an emotional tone, and as such the games score works to compliment the game aesthetic itself: its tribal space jams are cold, otherworldly, and electronic.

Your progression through each stage feels measured, due to the games carefully coordinated progression and its (at the time) cutting edge map system. This map system has since become a staple for Nintendo games, from everything from Ocarina of Time to Resident Evil 4 having adapted it. The map gets filled in as you clear rooms, with each dungeon area featuring an optional, Zelda style compass terminal where Samus can download the schematics for every stage. Once you reach this terminal, the shape of the larger map is revealed: you know what areas you missed, which proves invaluable in preventing players from getting stuck. This also allows the player to see parts of the map they won't access until later, effectively building player anticipation for both exploration and progression.

The pause menu is highly reminiscent of the later Gamecube color scheme, with an equipment system thats very ahead of its time in terms of its presentation. The HUD is also arranged in the same minimal style as the rest of the game, with very little clutter distracting the eye from the game screen itself. The fonts all softly blink in interstellar green, and the menu's sound effects chirp electronically. All of these minor aesthetic details really boost the game experience, and work to cohere Super Metroid into a unified, immersive SNES icon.



                                                                 -GAMEPLAY -


Enemies you encounter are often designed to compliment the stage or environment in which you find them: for example, the green organic section features similarly slimey, plant-like enemies. Its boss is, of course, a massive plant monster that tunnels into the room, whereupon you dispense with its existence, and then ascend the earthen tunnel it left in its wake. This kind of design gives each environment a living, breathing quality: which makes interacting within it all the more immersive. The boss fights are likewise always thematic and epic, with all of your skills, weapons, and focus being brought into play. Yet progression through Super Metroid isn’t as simple as finding the right room, then getting there; not only are there multiple paths, predominantly the game provides puzzles in order for you to progress further. These puzzles teach you tools that you’ll need later in the game, you just don’t realize it on first playthrough. For example, when you first arrive on the planet surface, the first few rooms are mostly vertical, with a lot of instances of Samus falling. This not only emphasizes the importance gravity plays in the game’s physics, it also forces you into a situation where you’re landing on platforms, then jumping to other platforms. This is because of another noteworthy detail, which is also symptomatic of classic SNES games: Metroid often blinds the player so that he or she may eventually see.

The player is lead by the level design to a conclusion necessary to progress, with the most important step left out: the pieces are all there, its just left up to you to put them together in the correct fashion. And once you put something together, you continue to use said skill for the rest of the game. Thus, the player feels that his or her actions have actual weight. Instead of mindlessly progressing from point A to B, you have to rely on your own cunning and skill to determine the correct course of action. You are shown, not told. Therefore you really come away with the sense of being the actor that sets everything in motion; exactly the kind of pure immersion modern games often mess up. Super Metroid is often heralded as one of the original iterations of non-linear gameplay. There's no set sequence to completing or exploring Planet Zebes, which allows for different replay experiences. You can also go through the game without any equipment. And the open ended gameplay doesn't stop there: your combat style can differ depending on your gaming style. As an example, in one particular boss fight you could roll around in a ball, dodging the enemy's attacks until an opening appears - OR you could pummel the boss's exterior with missiles, which then forces the boss to reveal its weak point quickly.


                                                 - CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT -

All of these components work together to make the player really get into the role of Samus. You are given a concrete sense of being alone and limited in an alien environment. You actually feel as though you are descending the depths of Planet Zebes to recover the Metroid specimen for the good of the Human race; and this is accomplished despite the games aforementioned graphical shortcomings. As you progress and unlock new items, weapons, and areas, you only feel more anticipation in reaching your ultimate goal. Another noteworthy strength of Super Metroid that distinguishes it from modern games lies in its protagonists gender. When girls do end up being the player character - which is rare - they’re often over emphasized as feminine: for who would Laura Croft be without her massive endowments? Could you imagine a modern game featuring a gun-wielding scientist/space explorer, who was both female and not running around in a swimsuit, or some kind of leotard with holes in it? Even the Metroid franchise has succumbed to this lazy trend, with Team Ninja's take on the series, "Metroid: Other M". Super Metroid is refreshing in that its main character is a girl, and uncomplicatedly so. It doesn’t make a big deal out of this fact: the game implicitly accepts the idea that a woman could fight Space Pirates, explore vast alien landscapes, and ultimately benefit humanity with a scientific discovery as a given. Though Samus is a woman, she stands in to represent all of human kind. Sure, when you die Samus’ suit explodes to reveal her long hair, underwear-clad self in the throes of what appears to be a particularly powerful orgasm: but even with this weird occurrence, Super Metroid is miles ahead of most games in terms of its gender politics. And while we're on the subject of the eponymous hero, I'd like to note that Samus speaks - uncommon among character icons of her era. Also unlike Mario or Link, Samus fights with futuristic technology. That, and firearms: everything from a beam cannon to an ice beam to super missiles. Samus is sort of like a Boba Fett with ovaries: especially deft, intrepid, and intellectual, she's a master of technology, combat, and space travel. Who wouldn't want a chance to roll around in her orange metalline shoes, roaming the terra incognita of celestial bodies as an astrophysical vagabond?



                                                               - CONCLUSION -


With all that being said, Super Metroid isn't a perfect game. There are a few sections that will genuinely annoy you: the platforming sections prove to be extremely difficult, at least they were for me. There was one particularly onerous platform-jump section that I was stuck on for hours. Make no mistake, this game (like most of its era) takes a large degree of patience to master. But even if there were times during gameplay that I pulled my own hair out, Super Metroid plays as decidedly refreshing in contrast with the modern style of video games. For all these reasons and more, Super Metroid remains easily one of the most relevant games ever made. And as much as a 16 bit game can be, this one is timeless.  It stands as a reminder that in the field of video games, surface level, ultimately, always loses out to substance. That’s important to keep in mind in regards to gaming, where it’s easy to let the awe inspiring power of great graphics take precedence over the less shallow qualities that are necessary for a good game. Playing Super Metroid in the context of modern Blockbuster monstrosities can be a little depressing, if only because it really puts in perspective how generic, cookie cutter and by the numbers some sectors of gaming have become. However some modern games, such as Dark Souls, have effectively continued the traditions of quality, challenge-based gameplay exhibited by Metroid 3. Hopefully more will follow From Software’s example and look to the past in order to better design the games of the future. But until then, we can always play Super Metroid, right?