I went into this game with tempered expectations as I was cautious of how the game would hold up. Despite how much I respect its ambition and how ahead of its time it was, I found Metroid 1 to range from mildly enjoyable to moderately frustrating, so I was pretty skeptical on how a successor on the Gameboy would stack up…after playing it, I am glad to have had my concerns proved wrong. Very wrong in fact, as this is a fantastic game, a huge step up from its predecessor and the game that made me a real fan of Metroid.

The first substantial improvement over the first game is the controls. Samus is now able to shoot below herself when in midair and can take a stationary crouched position to shoot knee-high targets, making it so combat is more like fighting enemies and less like fighting the limited controls.

There are ten save stations around the map, though two are very close to each other so functionally there are nine. I think it can be a little bit too hard to come by one, but overall, it works fine, and I much prefer it over Metroid 1’s password system. There are also refueling stations placed about, they come in handy but are too few and far between to be able to lean on.

Metroid wouldn’t be Metroid without upgrades and Metroid II not only keeps the old ones but brings in some new blood with the spider-ball and the space-jump. The spider ball lets Samus cling to surfaces while in morph-ball mode and traverse walls and ceilings which adds some nice verticality to exploration. The space-jump serves as its more mobile late game equivalent, letting Samus be able to jump repeatedly while in midair, infinitely if your timing is good. I don’t think a single other powerup in Metroid’s history feels as satisfying to get as the space-jump, though the screw-attack comes second due to how well it synergizes with the space-jump.

What I believe to be the most important quality of a Metroid game is its exploration and world design…and the Metroid community’s most common complaint about Metroid II is regarding its exploration and world design…specifically, its different approach to entries in the series both preceding and succeeding it. The player has to enter and complete each zone in a specific order with backtracking being largely absent, once you are done with an area you typically never have to set foot in it again and what few revisits there are, are very brief. Though, each zone lets you explore in a non-linear manner within its confines. I think this direction is perfect for the game when accounting for the often-forgotten fact that this was made for the Gameboy, a handheld console most owners would typically use in car rides, on breaks or during recess. Having a giant intertwined world with backtracking large distances like Metroid 1 is a little bit demanding for a system people would typically play for shorter time frames. add the fact that the first Metroid was already difficult to navigate while having the advantage of being on a home console where most people would typically have longer more dedicated play-sessions than a handheld, a more bite-sized approach to the world that still embraces non-linearity works best for the Gameboy, while still keeping what makes Metroid…well, Metroid!

The second most common complaint about Metroid II is how zoomed in the camera is. I view it in a similar vein to Resident Evil’s fixed camera angles, where the game is designed specifically to obscure the players vision. Vision is one of your strongest and most reliable abilities in a game, so to have that limited makes you more vulnerable. The game takes something away from you. This would normally be annoying in something like an action game or a shooter, but with horror it adds to the experience. Metroid II, whether you find it scary or not, is a horror game. It turns what was a limitation of the hardware into a way to build dread. When you find the shed remains of a recently hatched mutant Metroid, you know its near, but not exactly where it is or when it will attack, having to keep begrudgingly inching forward, not knowing when it’s going to pop into view.

Both the story and objective of the game revolve around hunting Metroids. the Metroids, while being a plot point in Metroid 1 and the series namesake, I’d argue this is their first real game in the spotlight. When you first land on SR-388 you enter a cave and explore for a bit, then eventually find a Metroid, but unlike previous encounters with one, this one starts to mutate. It jettisons its old form for one resistant to the ice beam at the cost of a very weak underbelly. As you dive further into the planets depths finding upgrades and progressing, you find more and more Metroids, some being even further along their mutation process, getting more agile and deadly. while fighting the Metroids can be range from an intense, erratic scuffle to a complete mess depending on the arena design, I ultimately enjoy their presence throughout the game and even the worst of the fights are better than any of the bosses in Metroid 1.

I really adore the environmental story telling throughout the game, especially near the end just before the Metroid nest where there are no enemies besides the Metroids to convey how invasive they are to SR-388’s ecosystem. It really sells the sense of urgency in hunting the Metroids before they mutate to a stage too strong for you to stop and eventually take over the planet in its entirety.

Metroid II is extremely ambitious for a horror game on the Gameboy and it’s even more impressive that it manages to achieve what it does. It has an intensely strong sense of identity and stands as both a huge improvement from Metroid 1 on almost every front and as a great game in its own right.

Maybe the most underrated game of its era.

Metroid’s debut on the NES possessed plenty of unique and admirable elements, hence why it has influenced countless subsequent video games since its release. However, I grant the first Metroid game much less clemency than its fellow Nintendo icons during their freshmen years because navigating through the hostile hedge maze of an alien planet was too absurdly rigorous a task while being rendered in 8-bit graphics. It’s a brilliant idea whose execution in this vestigial era of gaming couldn’t possibly have been feasible, which is probably what inspired so many imitators to replicate its design philosophy when the gaming hardware could emulate it effectively. Because I’m already adamantly critical of a Metroid game on the NES, you can imagine why I’ve avoided its sequel on the original Gameboy like the plague. If Metroid on the NES is aggravatingly primitive as is, imagine how it would be downscaled on a handheld. It’s something I’ve shuttered to comprehend for some time now. However, Metroid II: Return of Samus on the original Gameboy is still an essential piece of the franchise’s evolutionary history, so I feel obligated not to eschew it from my gaming repertoire. Upon playing a game akin to eating my Brussels sprouts, I was surprised to find more positive aspects of Metroid II than I initially anticipated. Do these additions and rearrangements make Metroid II more pleasant than its console predecessor? Uh…

As detailed in the game’s manual, Metroid II is a direct sequel to the original Metroid in that its narrative follows the events of the first game when Samus defeated Mother Brain on Zebes. Now, the Galactic Federation is taking the fight to the metroid’s home planet of SR388 to exterminate the intergalactic parasites, ensuring that the dastardly Space Pirates will never harness their deadly biological properties ever again. However, upon storming the hive, an entire fleet of Federation mercenaries goes missing. Evidently, not even a gang of men can be relied on to do a woman’s job, so the Federation assigns Samus the intrepid mission of causing the metroid’s abrupt extinction. Future Metroid games would utilize the premise of invading an enemy hive as a climactic point, but Metroid II revels in the thrill of infiltration for the duration of the game. Because entering the heart of the threat is more of an intimate attack, Metroid II immediately raises the stakes of the narrative compared to the previous game.

The first Metroid certainly portrayed the dim nothingness of space effectively with its blank, black backgrounds setting the scene, whether it was an intentional artistic display from the developers or an inadvertent advantage of the NES’s primitiveness. At least the unseeable abyss of the backgrounds was contrasted with a pleasantly diverse color palette that gave the foregrounds their discernibility. Little known fact about the original Gameboy model, the handheld was so rudimentary that it could not support colors, so every game was rendered in stark black and white like the golden age of Hollywood. While the lack of colorization wouldn’t necessarily impact a Mario or Zelda game on the go, Metroid suffers completely. Contrasting a completely black background with white amongst grainy shades of more black turns any game into a graphical slurry thick as pea soup. Some later versions of Metroid II provide color where the foreground of SR388 is a cool blue, with Samus sporting her trademark red power suit with tinges of yellow. Still, the improved color scheme is only marginally less monochromatic than its original in black and white or the other version where it is shaded in a blanched, greenish-brown. To compensate for the lack of graphical discernibility, Metroid II’s camera perspective for the player is zoomed in to the point where it feels as if Samus’s body takes up half of the screen. I appreciate the consideration that Samus wouldn’t be sighted as easily from afar in black and white, but it’s a tad too close for my comfort threshold.

Considering that Metroid II couldn’t possibly stand up as a bonafide sequel to the NES Metroid with graphical enhancements, the developers sure did attempt to amend the awkward regression of hardware with several quality-of-life enhancements. Then again, the first Metroid was in desperate need of these enhancements anyway, so they were ultimately still a necessity even if Metroid’s sequel was on the same system. Firstly, the ability to aim Samus’s blaster in more directions than horizontally and vertically is a blessing. With a flexible dexterity that allows Samus to aim downward in the air, Samus is much less vulnerable and will take less unfair damage because the blind spot has been rectified. Acquiring energy tanks and missile upgrades will no longer involve borderline sequence breaking, although the paths to a number of them will sometimes be behind illusory walls like a number of upgrades throughout the games of this era. Most importantly, save stations are strewn aplenty as well as places to replenish health and missile ammunition, mitigating the need for an excruciating grinding session shooting at enemies to stave off dying and reverting all the way back to the beginning (which is now defined as where Samus parks her ship). If the Gameboy could implement a functional save feature, what’s the excuse for the NES rarely offering one? Outside of my general delight that all of these features heightened Metroid II’s accessibility, what surprised me was how many of Metroid’s power-ups made their debut here. The Spider Ball climbs up the coarse terrain of the metroid’s home planet as smoothly as seen in other Metroid iterations, and the same goes for the Spring Ball that jumpstarts Samus in ball form as sprightly as a reflex test. I had no idea that something as dangerous and erratic as the Screwattack could be implemented onto something as fragile and unsophisticated as the Gameboy but nevertheless, Samus is able to spin herself airborne with deadly energy to her heart’s content. The new spazer and plasma beams accompany the returning ice and wave beams, but Metroid II continues the problem from the previous game in that these beams cannot be alternated in an inventory of sorts.

You know what other feature Metroid II continues to omit? In all their wisdom and experience, Nintendo still did not find a map to be an indispensable facet of their exploration-intensive IP with cramped corridors galore and a smattering of secret upgrades. If I were on the decision board, I’d heavily protest. The visually muted depiction of this (literally) uncharted planet is really an insult to injury. Also, to compound how egregious this glaring oversight is, SR388’s world here is at least three times larger than Zebes. Have fun trying not to struggle at every waking moment trying to find your position in relation to where you’re intended to go. While the exclusion of a map is still just as unacceptable, at least SR388 is constructed a bit more prudently than the series of stairs and hallways that was Zebes. SB388 is organized incrementally, meaning that the entirety of one section has to be completed in order to proceed to the next one. Once everything is cleared out, the game gives them an indication to move onward: shaking the map like an earthquake, signifying that another section has been unearthed. Still, not providing a map for this instance renders this neat progression point moot because it’s incredibly unclear where the next area is.

Constantly scrambling to find the next area notwithstanding, how does one progress through the catacombs of the metroid’s home planet? When I stated that Samus’s mission was to eradicate all Metroids from the galaxy, this isn’t merely a narrative catalyst. Forty metroids have hatched from their cocoons like caterpillars and the overarching quest of Metroid II is to eliminate all of them. However, these are not the same jelly-headed brain suckers seen in the first game (and the ones we’ve become familiar with through subsequent titles). The homebound metroid resembles something of an intergalactic hornet, also buzzing around with the aggression of one once they encounter Samus. As Samus continually blasts them to bits, the genome of the metroid species is going to adapt to Samus’s opposition, scrolling down the letters of the Greek alphabet for categorization. The Zeta and Omega metroids that Samus will eventually be forced to contend with will look gnarlier, uncategorizable space monsters. However, their formidability will only prove to be an aesthetic evolution as a few missiles will still be the tried and true formula for this “superior” genetic line of metroids as it was for the Alpha and Gamma ones. Defeating them will always be a facile undertaking, but I cannot proclaim relief for the challenge of finding all of these bastards without a map. I can’t even begin to count how many times I’d scour the map frantically if I missed one. Anytime I eventually found the untouched metroid, I always felt my efforts were due to dumb luck.

It isn’t until the final boss against the Metroid Queen that Metroid II offers something on this planet that Samus won’t be able to gun down in a matter of seconds. This monstrous matriarch isn’t the overwhelming endurance test that Mother Brain proved to be, but its retractable head and screen-spanning spike balls it regurgitates is bound to graze many unknowing players. Instead of a spontaneous self-destruct sequence occurring as a falling action, Samus looks behind the remains of the final boss to find an egg on the verge of hatching. Suddenly, a little metroid hatchling in the classic model appears, but it does not approach Samus with the same hostility as the adult ones Samus has been laying waste to. Samus takes the little guy back to her ship at a leisurely pace, and the process of walking this unexpectedly cute and docile baby metroid like a pet is quite gleeful. It almost gives some perspective on how dangerous the metroids really are despite what the narrative has been feeding us. A nature versus nurture argument, or maybe it turns into a monster when its innocence is inevitably lost somehow.

Was it really necessary to put the sequel to Metroid on the Gameboy? Nintendo’s first console overstayed its welcome far past its commercial peak of the late 1980s well into the next generation, so why couldn’t Metroid II have joined its predecessor on the same system? Metroid II would have benefited greatly from being developed on a more reliable and stable piece of hardware because it should by all means be unequivocally better than the first game with all of its successful advancements. However, the opaque, black-and-white graphics, uncomfortable angle of sight, and no map to reference for progression yet again make Metroid II nauseating. At least some of these issues could've been remedied on a home console. The next game in the Metroid series was when the series definitively joined the primetime of gaming royalty, but it’s a shame to think that it potentially could’ve happened three years sooner if a mechanically inferior Nintendo product didn’t mar Metroid II.

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Attribution: https://erockreviews.blogspot.com

ok so the only improvement is that samus controls SLIGHTLY better here.

the rest feels like a step back sadly. atsmisphere not as strong as the first one (only so much the music can do. its all GREEN). if i didnt have a guide i would have been so lost lol, the idea of exploring to find metroids to kill is fine, but it doesnt really work when theres such a lack of variance in areas.

the small moment with the baby metroid at the end was really neat tho