maximilyun
Metroid Prime 2: Echoes is a worthwhile sequel to the original Metroid Prime. It’s great in all aspects. But in all aspects, there’s always something holding it back.
The level design benefits from an “open-zone” approach. Its an element I never minded from the original Metroid Prime, but the lack of backtracking in Echoes allows each main area to linearly build tension - whereas at its worst, Prime 1 could feel meandering rather than awe-some. Each area is more complex, not only in how you solve puzzles and traverse them, but also in the fact that we have a parallel “Dark Aether” to traverse, with its own unique challenges, mostly based on traversal (physical and dimensional). This is all quite good, but I think leaning into this structure would have benefited the game. The open-zones are great. Like I said, they build tension and awe moreso than the original Prime did. In nearly all three main areas, I had to leave midway through my excursion. I found that I’d get halfway through an area, get stuck, then the hint system would guide me to an upgrade in the Temple Grounds hub area. In the latter two of three areas, this happened, and the hint system is not nearly quick enough to activate. I would have much rather had the game send me on a hunt for this upgrade in order to unlock the area’s they’re first used in, so I hadn’t made progress, only to be whisked away from an area’s self-contained narrative. I like these new areas for how invested you get in them, but Echoes takes you out of that experience when you really start to get going.
As for the story, it starts with a lot of intrigue, and throughout, it’s a great motivator to explore the world. It is very repetitive, though. The Space Pirate and Luminoth Warrior Logs are well-written, but they failed to capture the same kind of awe I had for Tallon IV in this game’s predecessor. A war between forces of light and darkness, a world caught in “transdimensional flux” - that’s cool! I’d be quicker to forgive how quickly the Space Pirates get written off if the Ing were explored more. How I see it, For the latter two-thirds of Echoes, the Space Pirates are radio silent, which I think was done to show how the Ing are a big threat. I like this idea, but I think the Ing aren’t explored enough, and their presence is too dull. They can certainly be threatening though, even if most of their physical appearances are through the posession and mutation of other enemies. They’re very similar to Phazon in that regard - which I think is by design, they seem related to or made from the substance. Ultimately, I just wish the narrative had better payoff, because it sets up an intriguing mystery, and lots of different parties in the conflict. Its contemplative tone is similar to Prime 1 however, which I think is to its detriment. I’m shown great potential, but left disappointed by these aspects by the end of the game, which is never good.
The combat is unique! It controls similarly to its predecessor, but this time I found it spellbindingly clunky. The moments where its clunkyness is most obvious are the main area boss fights, but those moments are also the game’s most intricate mechanically and cinematic. The new enemies make good use of Samus’ abilities; the different takes on resource management made me play a little more cautiously; and overall I’d say has very little sore-spots. My beloved scan visor got a facelift I didn’t know it needed until now, it’s so much more convenient to use. The enemies don’t require these beams and visors as much as the first Prime did, and while I love the first Prime’s combat, I certainly didn’t mind this new approach - especially when there’s still plenty incentive to switch your mode of combat.
Overall, I liked Metroid Prime 2: Echoes, a lot. More than things that take me out of the experience, things that fail to get me invested in the first place are what hurt it the most. I wanted more moments like every appearance of Dark Samus; I wanted to see Space Pirates get decked in real time; I wanted to see the Ing as a bigger threat than I did; I wanted a more active story. The commonalities between Metroid Prime and Metroid Prime 2, are where Metroid Prime 2 fails. It experiments with the Metroid Prime formula, but I think it needed to stray further away from it than it did, to truly stand out as a riveting, unforgettable experience. As it stands though, I had a lot of fun with its increasingly complex environments, and encounters.
The level design benefits from an “open-zone” approach. Its an element I never minded from the original Metroid Prime, but the lack of backtracking in Echoes allows each main area to linearly build tension - whereas at its worst, Prime 1 could feel meandering rather than awe-some. Each area is more complex, not only in how you solve puzzles and traverse them, but also in the fact that we have a parallel “Dark Aether” to traverse, with its own unique challenges, mostly based on traversal (physical and dimensional). This is all quite good, but I think leaning into this structure would have benefited the game. The open-zones are great. Like I said, they build tension and awe moreso than the original Prime did. In nearly all three main areas, I had to leave midway through my excursion. I found that I’d get halfway through an area, get stuck, then the hint system would guide me to an upgrade in the Temple Grounds hub area. In the latter two of three areas, this happened, and the hint system is not nearly quick enough to activate. I would have much rather had the game send me on a hunt for this upgrade in order to unlock the area’s they’re first used in, so I hadn’t made progress, only to be whisked away from an area’s self-contained narrative. I like these new areas for how invested you get in them, but Echoes takes you out of that experience when you really start to get going.
As for the story, it starts with a lot of intrigue, and throughout, it’s a great motivator to explore the world. It is very repetitive, though. The Space Pirate and Luminoth Warrior Logs are well-written, but they failed to capture the same kind of awe I had for Tallon IV in this game’s predecessor. A war between forces of light and darkness, a world caught in “transdimensional flux” - that’s cool! I’d be quicker to forgive how quickly the Space Pirates get written off if the Ing were explored more. How I see it, For the latter two-thirds of Echoes, the Space Pirates are radio silent, which I think was done to show how the Ing are a big threat. I like this idea, but I think the Ing aren’t explored enough, and their presence is too dull. They can certainly be threatening though, even if most of their physical appearances are through the posession and mutation of other enemies. They’re very similar to Phazon in that regard - which I think is by design, they seem related to or made from the substance. Ultimately, I just wish the narrative had better payoff, because it sets up an intriguing mystery, and lots of different parties in the conflict. Its contemplative tone is similar to Prime 1 however, which I think is to its detriment. I’m shown great potential, but left disappointed by these aspects by the end of the game, which is never good.
The combat is unique! It controls similarly to its predecessor, but this time I found it spellbindingly clunky. The moments where its clunkyness is most obvious are the main area boss fights, but those moments are also the game’s most intricate mechanically and cinematic. The new enemies make good use of Samus’ abilities; the different takes on resource management made me play a little more cautiously; and overall I’d say has very little sore-spots. My beloved scan visor got a facelift I didn’t know it needed until now, it’s so much more convenient to use. The enemies don’t require these beams and visors as much as the first Prime did, and while I love the first Prime’s combat, I certainly didn’t mind this new approach - especially when there’s still plenty incentive to switch your mode of combat.
Overall, I liked Metroid Prime 2: Echoes, a lot. More than things that take me out of the experience, things that fail to get me invested in the first place are what hurt it the most. I wanted more moments like every appearance of Dark Samus; I wanted to see Space Pirates get decked in real time; I wanted to see the Ing as a bigger threat than I did; I wanted a more active story. The commonalities between Metroid Prime and Metroid Prime 2, are where Metroid Prime 2 fails. It experiments with the Metroid Prime formula, but I think it needed to stray further away from it than it did, to truly stand out as a riveting, unforgettable experience. As it stands though, I had a lot of fun with its increasingly complex environments, and encounters.
2017
Well, a lot of this game’s intent went over my head. I can appreciate it for what it is in hindsight, but a lot of what impresses me the most evaded me on my first playthrough.
Its themes on mental health and capitalism are apparent yet the overal message is a little abstract. I’m fine with this, but it certainly impacted my first playthrough and made the ending fall kinda flat for me. Delving deeper (thinking more about the game and reading what some people have had to say about it), I really like what Night in the Woods has to say, and how it has to say it.
By far its greatest strength is its worldbuilding, and how its world is presented.. The game looks like I’m playing a children’s story book, which fits perfectly with Mae’s idealistic, forever-young view of her life. She seems to hallucinate as the changing views of her childhood friends and dying town contrast her own immature view of things. Childhood friends, who have matured more than Mae in her 2 years off to college, are navigating their feelings through their disparate, desperate situations. Greg can’t goof off as he wants to move to the big city with his boyfriend and Bea’s responsibilities continue to pile as her depressed father grows older. Possum Springs can no longer live up to its legacy as a mining town and opportunities are scarce.
It isn’t all bleak in Possum Springs, there are plenty of things to do and keep track of. Night in the Woods controls well enough and animates fluidly enough for a mechanically and tactilely fun game, despite its simple loop. There’s also enough varied content you can explore to find and miss out on day by day. I find that Mae’s gameplay of platforming across a makeshift jungle gym of telephone poles and rooftops; talking and listening to people; maybe partaking in some activity they’re doing, is fun! Specifically, jumping around the town like its a playground, with its storybook art-style, makes for a fascinating atmosphere, reflecting and adding to our understanding of Mae’s plight.
And yeah, perhaps some of the finer details went over my head, but Night in the Woods has a phenomenal atmosphere, one that is felt in its story, regardless of how deep you dive. Where its more abstract ideas fall by the wayside is towards the end of the game, which seems understated - and is! But this understated ending sat better in my mind with time. And certain moments that I felt led nowhere, I now see the point of.
Overall, I had a good time with Night in the Woods. I appreciate both its smaller moments and broad strokes. Its use of capitalism and religion in metaphors is a real strong point, even if I couldn’t immediately see what it was going for. And in hindsight, through a little bit of digging (I am not the smartest), I really do love how its themes come together in the end.
Its themes on mental health and capitalism are apparent yet the overal message is a little abstract. I’m fine with this, but it certainly impacted my first playthrough and made the ending fall kinda flat for me. Delving deeper (thinking more about the game and reading what some people have had to say about it), I really like what Night in the Woods has to say, and how it has to say it.
By far its greatest strength is its worldbuilding, and how its world is presented.. The game looks like I’m playing a children’s story book, which fits perfectly with Mae’s idealistic, forever-young view of her life. She seems to hallucinate as the changing views of her childhood friends and dying town contrast her own immature view of things. Childhood friends, who have matured more than Mae in her 2 years off to college, are navigating their feelings through their disparate, desperate situations. Greg can’t goof off as he wants to move to the big city with his boyfriend and Bea’s responsibilities continue to pile as her depressed father grows older. Possum Springs can no longer live up to its legacy as a mining town and opportunities are scarce.
It isn’t all bleak in Possum Springs, there are plenty of things to do and keep track of. Night in the Woods controls well enough and animates fluidly enough for a mechanically and tactilely fun game, despite its simple loop. There’s also enough varied content you can explore to find and miss out on day by day. I find that Mae’s gameplay of platforming across a makeshift jungle gym of telephone poles and rooftops; talking and listening to people; maybe partaking in some activity they’re doing, is fun! Specifically, jumping around the town like its a playground, with its storybook art-style, makes for a fascinating atmosphere, reflecting and adding to our understanding of Mae’s plight.
And yeah, perhaps some of the finer details went over my head, but Night in the Woods has a phenomenal atmosphere, one that is felt in its story, regardless of how deep you dive. Where its more abstract ideas fall by the wayside is towards the end of the game, which seems understated - and is! But this understated ending sat better in my mind with time. And certain moments that I felt led nowhere, I now see the point of.
Overall, I had a good time with Night in the Woods. I appreciate both its smaller moments and broad strokes. Its use of capitalism and religion in metaphors is a real strong point, even if I couldn’t immediately see what it was going for. And in hindsight, through a little bit of digging (I am not the smartest), I really do love how its themes come together in the end.
2021
If Demon Turf could commit to one idea it’d be all the better for it. Each decision made about this game’s structure has to account for the myriad of styles it goes for. I’d like it a lot more if if it leaned entirely into being a linear puzzle-platformer, or an open-zone collectathon. I cannot meet it on its own terms since I’m not exactly certain what those terms are. The boundless variety in structure just gives me a headache. The various minigames and strewn about platforming sequences aren’t THAT bad on their own, but together, they form a chimeric whole, completely shooting down any sense of pacing or rising action the game could’ve had.
Hub worlds, placeable checkpoints that you teleport between, and minigames, all feel suited to a more open-ended kind of level. Unfortunately, the little good these mechanics provide is taken away by how poorly they mesh with the game’s structure. So many levels are linear obstacle courses that can’t build upon the previous level’s ideas since there is usually never a previous level. Each level’s structure is also muddied by having you complete some random minigame or activity. A lot of the levels feel like a linear gauntlet of some of Super Mario Odyssey’s most worthless power moon challenges, with some platforming sprinkled in.
None of these gimmicks and abilities are terrible conceptually. However, when each turf jerks you from the “enter buildings” level to the “open” level to the “linear” level back to the “enter buildings” level; when these levels have as much fluff as they do platforming gauntlets; when the game asks so little of you - I struggle to find any reason to care.
Neither the story nor the presentation grabbed me, though these facets both have their fun moments. Ugly and boring at their worst, nice at their best!
Inconsistency and structural issues haunt every corner of this game. Its uniqueness can’t make up for all of its issues and I’m left with a bad taste in my mouth by the end of it - even with its cute ending. I think with an overhaul in structure, and a few mechanical tweaks, Demon Turf could be a lot better.
Hub worlds, placeable checkpoints that you teleport between, and minigames, all feel suited to a more open-ended kind of level. Unfortunately, the little good these mechanics provide is taken away by how poorly they mesh with the game’s structure. So many levels are linear obstacle courses that can’t build upon the previous level’s ideas since there is usually never a previous level. Each level’s structure is also muddied by having you complete some random minigame or activity. A lot of the levels feel like a linear gauntlet of some of Super Mario Odyssey’s most worthless power moon challenges, with some platforming sprinkled in.
None of these gimmicks and abilities are terrible conceptually. However, when each turf jerks you from the “enter buildings” level to the “open” level to the “linear” level back to the “enter buildings” level; when these levels have as much fluff as they do platforming gauntlets; when the game asks so little of you - I struggle to find any reason to care.
Neither the story nor the presentation grabbed me, though these facets both have their fun moments. Ugly and boring at their worst, nice at their best!
Inconsistency and structural issues haunt every corner of this game. Its uniqueness can’t make up for all of its issues and I’m left with a bad taste in my mouth by the end of it - even with its cute ending. I think with an overhaul in structure, and a few mechanical tweaks, Demon Turf could be a lot better.
This review contains spoilers
Metroid Prime 3 Corruption aims to expand the Prime series’ strengths in immersion and spectacle.
The second installment of this trilogy refined the first game’s structure by connecting each of its main areas to one central hub. Prime 3 takes that central hub and annihilates it. Your central hub is now Samus’ gunship, which you use to pick a location and fly to it. The three main areas are planets with their own unique flora and fauna and architecture and lore. From what I’ve read and heard, people like the variety of locations on Tallon IV, but remark on how it’s a little confusing that so many different climates can exist in such close proximity on the same planet. Aether had a more cohesive world, but the opposite problem happens - I hear people remark that the game’s areas suffer from looking too uniform. Planets, was the solution, and I think it’s a pretty good one! Bryyo’s dead golems from its war of ideals are strewn about the outskirts of a fuel plant that life has found its way back inside of. Elysia is a beautiful mechanical city floating in the atmosphere of a gas giant. And I just think it’s so fitting that the Space Pirate Homeworld is this brassy, maze-like fortress pounded by a perpetual acid rain. These aren’t the most colourful or vibrant areas, but there’s a lot that’s gone in to them to make them feel unique. Make no mistake, Corruption does display an evolution in what the Metroid Prime series has been all about.
The control scheme is the most obvious difference. Aiming with the Wiimote is a natural evolution of the series immersive strengths. It’s easier than ever to look around and take in your surroundings. There’s a detail in Metroid Prime where you can see the rain trickle down Samus’ arm cannon when looking up, only I never noticed this because I rarely looked up in that game outside of locking on to airborne enemies. In Corruption, I’d just stand and take in the view of Elysia, or try to catch a glimpse of the tendrils penetrating the surface of the Pirate Homeworld in the brief moments where I can see the sky. Combat certainly benefits from this change. It’s easier than ever lock onto and blast a hole in an enemy’s face while strafing and handling the stragglers in your peripherals. Among the fauna of each planet and the typical space pirate fare, there are several new enemies meant to take advantage of the precise aiming that the Wiimote affords. The Ridley fight in the opening sequence is a perfect example, I don’t think things get any cooler than it, and that’s not an indictment, it’s a really high bar to clear! Most of these other enemies are bosses like all three of the Leviathan Seed fights, which also have weak-points that morph as the fight goes on. The Wiimote and the new hypermode ability make combat encounters easier so fortunately there are a good variety of scripted moments with different dynamics, like defending a bomb from a fleet of pirates, disabling an air defense system while pirates try to recallibrate it, surviving an onslaught of pirates in the core of an imploding dynamo, defending a bomb defense squad from… well… who do you think?
A lot of those scenarios sound un-Metroid - these kind of things don’t happen until the very end of Metroid games, y’know? I had an inkling before, but I knew something was off when a Galactic Federation member told me about my new upgrade and how powerful it is after I had used it in a sterile tutorial setting. People are quick to compare Corruption to Halo. I’m not certain why, as I haven’t played Halo, but I get that it’s probably because the game has a much bigger focus on action and a story that’s more front-and-center than the previous games. When you see characters other than Samus that also talk? The alarm bells should be going off in your brain. That’s not me trying to regurgitate the hatred everyone has for Other M, it’s because the series has a reputation for a carefully cultivated atmosphere, one that might be compromised with even any amount of dialogue. Even Metroid Fusion, the most dialogue-heavy and linear Metroid game feels like a response to the masterpiece that was Super Metroid, like, “we can’t do better than this yet, let’s do something different, let’s break all of the rules on purpose…” Fusion endeavoured to use its linear structure in such a way that there was an ever-escalating series of unnerving and action-packed setpieces. Corruption feels more like the Metroid Prime games before it, with some scripted bits inserted in, and a bunch of interruptions. Yes, Aurora Unit, I am going in the direction of the exact area that you are calling me to tell me is the direction I should be going in, thanks. Like Fusion, Corruption still has the Metroid mainstays, only in this case, they’re a lot less polished and its linearity and story-focus doesn’t lend itself to nearly the same level of excitement.
Substitutive upgrades are something that basically needed to happen because of the Wiimote’s limitations. The beam upgrades are simple, and cool. They’re as objective of an upgrade as you can get, and they’re worked into the level design well. They feel like honest-to-goodness rewards and it’s a great moment to go from the clangorous noise of robots being destroyed by your power beam, to outright melting them with your plasma beam. What doesn’t feel great is getting an upgrade to your grapple lasso, the grapple voltage! Now, with this upgraded ability, you can now lasso onto terminals to drain them of or provide them with energy or siphon the energy of space pirates but only if they have shields and also once you get the hyper lasso you can go into hypermode and lasso only shielded enemies to overload them with Phazon energy and… see where I’m going with this? As I’ve mentioned before, the Prime series exceeds at creating a rich atmosphere, and I think the ability to exist in Samus’ gunship is a great idea for this reason. It’s intuitive that you’d be able to do that, and since you’ll be using your ship a lot more in this game, it’s a great inclusion. It doubles as a save point and a fast travel option, making it extra rewarding to find and open docking areas on each planet. Your gunship functions are very messy, however. It’s very clunky to try doing anything with its Command Visor before getting its upgrades, and once you’ve unlocked its missile and grapple functions, you’ll find that you rarely ever use them because combat is easy and those grapple-puzzles are few and far between. Overall, I like the ship, but it having upgrades takes away more than it adds I think. It’s just another upgrade that feels purely a key and I found that this level of context-sensitivity doesn’t suit Metroid. There are also your typical Prime movement upgrades, which are fine, but due to how levels are designed, I never had that “a-ha!” moment. Right after getting the boost ball, you’re unceremoniously dropped off at an area where you can use it to access a shortcut. This shortcut leads back to where you’ll have docked your gunship, and the only reason you know to get back there is because you received a transmission signal telling you to. There are many interruptions in this same vain, but I was delighted to see the solace of a quiet, explorable world, is still afforded to you at many times, especially in Bryyo and the early hours of Elysia.
When this silence is interrupted, it’s often to weave in the strings of a plot. There are some genuinely striking moments here. The specter of Dark Samus executing each of the Hunters was always a spooky image, one that I looked forward to seeing. Gandrayda morphing into Samus with her dying breath was horrific and great. The various points where Samus is affected by Phazon poisoning is also very interesting! And while it doesn’t quite stick the landing, I think the idea and mechanics of ‘Phaaze’ are really cool. The death screen showing Samus succumbing to Phazon and becoming Dark Samus is a really good way to work this into the plot passively, as well. In these ways the theme of “corruption” is woven into the narrative quite well. In other ways however… Look, I’d rather judge something for what it is, than what it isn’t. But come ON it, was right there! The Galactic Federation, a government and military force, is more present than they have ever been, Samus’ suit is a combination of Phazon and Galactic Federation technology, the game is literally called CORRUPTION - the implied symbolism almost spells things out for you.
I’m left a little disappointed by Metroid Prime 3: Corruption. Interesting, mazelike environments to traverse; stories told through their surroundings; upgrade-based progression; there’s been refinement in each of these aspects. It’s a Metroid game, through and through. It’s ultimately bogged down by the constant interruptions and a high level of context-sensitivity, which never lend themselves to moments much more interesting than moments in the games prior. Its central narrative is interesting but resolves itself in a very blasé way. It feels un-Metroid to some, and I see how that’s the case. It’s a good game, but, it could’ve been great!
The second installment of this trilogy refined the first game’s structure by connecting each of its main areas to one central hub. Prime 3 takes that central hub and annihilates it. Your central hub is now Samus’ gunship, which you use to pick a location and fly to it. The three main areas are planets with their own unique flora and fauna and architecture and lore. From what I’ve read and heard, people like the variety of locations on Tallon IV, but remark on how it’s a little confusing that so many different climates can exist in such close proximity on the same planet. Aether had a more cohesive world, but the opposite problem happens - I hear people remark that the game’s areas suffer from looking too uniform. Planets, was the solution, and I think it’s a pretty good one! Bryyo’s dead golems from its war of ideals are strewn about the outskirts of a fuel plant that life has found its way back inside of. Elysia is a beautiful mechanical city floating in the atmosphere of a gas giant. And I just think it’s so fitting that the Space Pirate Homeworld is this brassy, maze-like fortress pounded by a perpetual acid rain. These aren’t the most colourful or vibrant areas, but there’s a lot that’s gone in to them to make them feel unique. Make no mistake, Corruption does display an evolution in what the Metroid Prime series has been all about.
The control scheme is the most obvious difference. Aiming with the Wiimote is a natural evolution of the series immersive strengths. It’s easier than ever to look around and take in your surroundings. There’s a detail in Metroid Prime where you can see the rain trickle down Samus’ arm cannon when looking up, only I never noticed this because I rarely looked up in that game outside of locking on to airborne enemies. In Corruption, I’d just stand and take in the view of Elysia, or try to catch a glimpse of the tendrils penetrating the surface of the Pirate Homeworld in the brief moments where I can see the sky. Combat certainly benefits from this change. It’s easier than ever lock onto and blast a hole in an enemy’s face while strafing and handling the stragglers in your peripherals. Among the fauna of each planet and the typical space pirate fare, there are several new enemies meant to take advantage of the precise aiming that the Wiimote affords. The Ridley fight in the opening sequence is a perfect example, I don’t think things get any cooler than it, and that’s not an indictment, it’s a really high bar to clear! Most of these other enemies are bosses like all three of the Leviathan Seed fights, which also have weak-points that morph as the fight goes on. The Wiimote and the new hypermode ability make combat encounters easier so fortunately there are a good variety of scripted moments with different dynamics, like defending a bomb from a fleet of pirates, disabling an air defense system while pirates try to recallibrate it, surviving an onslaught of pirates in the core of an imploding dynamo, defending a bomb defense squad from… well… who do you think?
A lot of those scenarios sound un-Metroid - these kind of things don’t happen until the very end of Metroid games, y’know? I had an inkling before, but I knew something was off when a Galactic Federation member told me about my new upgrade and how powerful it is after I had used it in a sterile tutorial setting. People are quick to compare Corruption to Halo. I’m not certain why, as I haven’t played Halo, but I get that it’s probably because the game has a much bigger focus on action and a story that’s more front-and-center than the previous games. When you see characters other than Samus that also talk? The alarm bells should be going off in your brain. That’s not me trying to regurgitate the hatred everyone has for Other M, it’s because the series has a reputation for a carefully cultivated atmosphere, one that might be compromised with even any amount of dialogue. Even Metroid Fusion, the most dialogue-heavy and linear Metroid game feels like a response to the masterpiece that was Super Metroid, like, “we can’t do better than this yet, let’s do something different, let’s break all of the rules on purpose…” Fusion endeavoured to use its linear structure in such a way that there was an ever-escalating series of unnerving and action-packed setpieces. Corruption feels more like the Metroid Prime games before it, with some scripted bits inserted in, and a bunch of interruptions. Yes, Aurora Unit, I am going in the direction of the exact area that you are calling me to tell me is the direction I should be going in, thanks. Like Fusion, Corruption still has the Metroid mainstays, only in this case, they’re a lot less polished and its linearity and story-focus doesn’t lend itself to nearly the same level of excitement.
Substitutive upgrades are something that basically needed to happen because of the Wiimote’s limitations. The beam upgrades are simple, and cool. They’re as objective of an upgrade as you can get, and they’re worked into the level design well. They feel like honest-to-goodness rewards and it’s a great moment to go from the clangorous noise of robots being destroyed by your power beam, to outright melting them with your plasma beam. What doesn’t feel great is getting an upgrade to your grapple lasso, the grapple voltage! Now, with this upgraded ability, you can now lasso onto terminals to drain them of or provide them with energy or siphon the energy of space pirates but only if they have shields and also once you get the hyper lasso you can go into hypermode and lasso only shielded enemies to overload them with Phazon energy and… see where I’m going with this? As I’ve mentioned before, the Prime series exceeds at creating a rich atmosphere, and I think the ability to exist in Samus’ gunship is a great idea for this reason. It’s intuitive that you’d be able to do that, and since you’ll be using your ship a lot more in this game, it’s a great inclusion. It doubles as a save point and a fast travel option, making it extra rewarding to find and open docking areas on each planet. Your gunship functions are very messy, however. It’s very clunky to try doing anything with its Command Visor before getting its upgrades, and once you’ve unlocked its missile and grapple functions, you’ll find that you rarely ever use them because combat is easy and those grapple-puzzles are few and far between. Overall, I like the ship, but it having upgrades takes away more than it adds I think. It’s just another upgrade that feels purely a key and I found that this level of context-sensitivity doesn’t suit Metroid. There are also your typical Prime movement upgrades, which are fine, but due to how levels are designed, I never had that “a-ha!” moment. Right after getting the boost ball, you’re unceremoniously dropped off at an area where you can use it to access a shortcut. This shortcut leads back to where you’ll have docked your gunship, and the only reason you know to get back there is because you received a transmission signal telling you to. There are many interruptions in this same vain, but I was delighted to see the solace of a quiet, explorable world, is still afforded to you at many times, especially in Bryyo and the early hours of Elysia.
When this silence is interrupted, it’s often to weave in the strings of a plot. There are some genuinely striking moments here. The specter of Dark Samus executing each of the Hunters was always a spooky image, one that I looked forward to seeing. Gandrayda morphing into Samus with her dying breath was horrific and great. The various points where Samus is affected by Phazon poisoning is also very interesting! And while it doesn’t quite stick the landing, I think the idea and mechanics of ‘Phaaze’ are really cool. The death screen showing Samus succumbing to Phazon and becoming Dark Samus is a really good way to work this into the plot passively, as well. In these ways the theme of “corruption” is woven into the narrative quite well. In other ways however… Look, I’d rather judge something for what it is, than what it isn’t. But come ON it, was right there! The Galactic Federation, a government and military force, is more present than they have ever been, Samus’ suit is a combination of Phazon and Galactic Federation technology, the game is literally called CORRUPTION - the implied symbolism almost spells things out for you.
I’m left a little disappointed by Metroid Prime 3: Corruption. Interesting, mazelike environments to traverse; stories told through their surroundings; upgrade-based progression; there’s been refinement in each of these aspects. It’s a Metroid game, through and through. It’s ultimately bogged down by the constant interruptions and a high level of context-sensitivity, which never lend themselves to moments much more interesting than moments in the games prior. Its central narrative is interesting but resolves itself in a very blasé way. It feels un-Metroid to some, and I see how that’s the case. It’s a good game, but, it could’ve been great!
This review contains spoilers
Metroid games, from their inception, have been made with gameplay in mind before anything else. The original Metroid has the morph ball because technical limitations made it impossible to get Samus crawling. I can understand if you’re put off by how archaic this game feels to play today. Metroid II is a linear descent through some vast areas connected by twisty caverns, where you fight the same boss 40 times, because that’s what the technology called for. That being said, there are some improvements made to what was laid down in the original Metroid for NES, like save points and resource-refill stations. Still, I think the Gameboy’s limitations elevate this game’s aesthetic, even if accidentally. Those cramped corridors and less-aggressive enemies compliment each other. And both of those on their own make sense, you’re invasive in this planet’s ecosystem, things are not built for you. Most “enemies” are less aggressive than they were in the original Metroid, they’re usually just minding their business. The Metroids themself lie in their domains, the path to them devoid of all life, they’ll attack you, but they won’t give chase. Tying these repetitive and simple combat encounters to progression means it’s a lot simpler to move through the game. These elements help its story come together in an impressive way. When I make that last plunge into the very depths of SR388 to make good on my bounty, the bleeps and bloops of the Gameboy sound-chip turn into a solid wall of sound, tension building as I hear the wails of the Queen Metroid, the sequence that ensues after killing her, the final Metroid on the planet, it all comes together. It’s fun, it’s thought-provoking, it’s satisfying, and it's a little shitty, but it’s a really GREAT GAME.
What a game, huh?
The Great Deku Tree conditions you to think spatially. You look up and down, use Link’s weight and movement in creative ways, loop in and out of rooms, all to solve puzzles that span the entire dungeon. This forms the basis for an assortment of dungeons that don’t test your ability to solve puzzles so much as they do test your ability to intuit your surroundings. This empty spot looks strange… I bet you I need a longer hookshot to access that part… then I can push that block out of the way… I probably have to do this section first… I wonder if my jump can reach that ledge… I know exactly what to do here! Each new hurdle is like a test or a question of spatial awareness that the game primes you to be ready to answer. A lot of the game’s most cryptic “puzzles” are in Hyrule proper, where you’ll have to start a time paradox to enter a well so you can get a magic monocle that helps you get through the desert. Despite how bizarre that last example was, the game’s overworld is a reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeons. It almost never has you asking “what do I do next?” Instead, the game plays with your expectations of what’s to come, and gives you all of the tools necessary to figure things out, even through that last example!
You’re also eased into combat with this same level of finesse. Kokiri Forest is a safe haven for you, until you’re asked to kill some stationary plant monsters, then block projectiles with your shield, then exploit the weakness of a dungeon boss to defeat it. It never gets complicated, but the game is constantly introducing new enemies and new scenarios for those enemies. Boss fights are maybe a weak part of the game, being kind of monotonous to fight. But it’s impressive how many of them continue to be fun even after understanding what their weakness is and how to exploit it. Because often, knowing when to react to enemies is just as important as how to react to them. Twinrova is a fight that doesn’t have much going on, and it’s easy to realize what’s going on and dodge attacks, but there’s something so satisfying about absorbing 3 blasts of one of their fire attacks whilst avoiding the ice ones so you can blast it back in their face. Z-targeting centers whichever element you’re locked onto, and allows you to focus less on positioning, more on reaction-time, movement, and which tools from your arsenal will be best for the job. Do I jump now? Or jab? I wonder what my hookshot does to this enemy… The more humanoid enemies tend to hop around you all crazily and it can be fun to parse which of your actions will yield which responses from your opponents. This was especially fun with the Gerudo Swordswomen and the Stalfos. Just like how dungeons focus more on spatial awareness and intuition, combat doesn’t ask anything complicated of you, it just asks you to approach each scenario with curiosity, and rely on instincts.
Dungeon crawling, where most of the puzzling and combat will take place, is contrasted with the beautiful world of Hyrule. The Fire Temple and Water Temple can be completed in either order, which is the same case for the final two dungeons. You might not even be aware that you can make these decisions at first! Other than the dungeons, you’re able to travel virtually anywhere in Hyrule, even if it won’t yield any results. You can miss vital upgrades to your arsenal, which kind of sucks, but a part of me likes that! Something I absolutely love, though, is that players can completely miss acquiring the horse that the game’s beautiful title screen all-but-promises you’ll be able to acquire. It makes the fantastic sequence that results in Epona being your trusty steed, all the more satisfying. It’s nice that with such a defined structure, players can still experience the game in very different ways. It’s a gratifying world to see more of, I loved the game’s sole escort mission for how stupidly charming it was, I loved the sequence that results in taming that elusive horse from the title screen, I savoured every conversation with Sheik, and I savoured every sunset over Hyrule field. If I were to describe each aspect of the game so far, it’d be with the word “space.”
A fantastic use of colour & lighting, and a soundtrack that’s maybe the most deserving of any game’s to be called “iconic,” both add to this mystifying feeling that Ocarina of Time upholds. I think Ocarina of Time shines the brightest in the little details that pile up. Ganondorf refers to the pieces of the Triforce as “toys.” You’re sent off on your quest in part because none of the adults in Zelda’s life take her concerns seriously. Princess Ruto tells you to “man up.” Ganondorf refers to the pieces of the Triforce as “toys.” The words “kid” and “child” are often used as insults. This paints a portrait of youth being a time to prove yourself, and the halfway timeskip cements growing up as a harrowing process, the world’s gone to shit and you don't need any character to tell you, you immediately know how much responsibility you're now burdened with. In the end, when the day is saved, it almost seems idyllic, you proved a lot of people wrong, rose to the occasion, and became a man, right? What do you think? What do you think Link says to Zelda at the very end of the game? Despite whatever interpretations I might have, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time gives you the space you need to answer these questions for yourself.
The Great Deku Tree conditions you to think spatially. You look up and down, use Link’s weight and movement in creative ways, loop in and out of rooms, all to solve puzzles that span the entire dungeon. This forms the basis for an assortment of dungeons that don’t test your ability to solve puzzles so much as they do test your ability to intuit your surroundings. This empty spot looks strange… I bet you I need a longer hookshot to access that part… then I can push that block out of the way… I probably have to do this section first… I wonder if my jump can reach that ledge… I know exactly what to do here! Each new hurdle is like a test or a question of spatial awareness that the game primes you to be ready to answer. A lot of the game’s most cryptic “puzzles” are in Hyrule proper, where you’ll have to start a time paradox to enter a well so you can get a magic monocle that helps you get through the desert. Despite how bizarre that last example was, the game’s overworld is a reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeons. It almost never has you asking “what do I do next?” Instead, the game plays with your expectations of what’s to come, and gives you all of the tools necessary to figure things out, even through that last example!
You’re also eased into combat with this same level of finesse. Kokiri Forest is a safe haven for you, until you’re asked to kill some stationary plant monsters, then block projectiles with your shield, then exploit the weakness of a dungeon boss to defeat it. It never gets complicated, but the game is constantly introducing new enemies and new scenarios for those enemies. Boss fights are maybe a weak part of the game, being kind of monotonous to fight. But it’s impressive how many of them continue to be fun even after understanding what their weakness is and how to exploit it. Because often, knowing when to react to enemies is just as important as how to react to them. Twinrova is a fight that doesn’t have much going on, and it’s easy to realize what’s going on and dodge attacks, but there’s something so satisfying about absorbing 3 blasts of one of their fire attacks whilst avoiding the ice ones so you can blast it back in their face. Z-targeting centers whichever element you’re locked onto, and allows you to focus less on positioning, more on reaction-time, movement, and which tools from your arsenal will be best for the job. Do I jump now? Or jab? I wonder what my hookshot does to this enemy… The more humanoid enemies tend to hop around you all crazily and it can be fun to parse which of your actions will yield which responses from your opponents. This was especially fun with the Gerudo Swordswomen and the Stalfos. Just like how dungeons focus more on spatial awareness and intuition, combat doesn’t ask anything complicated of you, it just asks you to approach each scenario with curiosity, and rely on instincts.
Dungeon crawling, where most of the puzzling and combat will take place, is contrasted with the beautiful world of Hyrule. The Fire Temple and Water Temple can be completed in either order, which is the same case for the final two dungeons. You might not even be aware that you can make these decisions at first! Other than the dungeons, you’re able to travel virtually anywhere in Hyrule, even if it won’t yield any results. You can miss vital upgrades to your arsenal, which kind of sucks, but a part of me likes that! Something I absolutely love, though, is that players can completely miss acquiring the horse that the game’s beautiful title screen all-but-promises you’ll be able to acquire. It makes the fantastic sequence that results in Epona being your trusty steed, all the more satisfying. It’s nice that with such a defined structure, players can still experience the game in very different ways. It’s a gratifying world to see more of, I loved the game’s sole escort mission for how stupidly charming it was, I loved the sequence that results in taming that elusive horse from the title screen, I savoured every conversation with Sheik, and I savoured every sunset over Hyrule field. If I were to describe each aspect of the game so far, it’d be with the word “space.”
A fantastic use of colour & lighting, and a soundtrack that’s maybe the most deserving of any game’s to be called “iconic,” both add to this mystifying feeling that Ocarina of Time upholds. I think Ocarina of Time shines the brightest in the little details that pile up. Ganondorf refers to the pieces of the Triforce as “toys.” You’re sent off on your quest in part because none of the adults in Zelda’s life take her concerns seriously. Princess Ruto tells you to “man up.” Ganondorf refers to the pieces of the Triforce as “toys.” The words “kid” and “child” are often used as insults. This paints a portrait of youth being a time to prove yourself, and the halfway timeskip cements growing up as a harrowing process, the world’s gone to shit and you don't need any character to tell you, you immediately know how much responsibility you're now burdened with. In the end, when the day is saved, it almost seems idyllic, you proved a lot of people wrong, rose to the occasion, and became a man, right? What do you think? What do you think Link says to Zelda at the very end of the game? Despite whatever interpretations I might have, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time gives you the space you need to answer these questions for yourself.
Metroid: Zero Mission’s status as a remake is something I’ve had to grapple with - does it succeed as a reimagining of the concept and atmosphere of the original Metroid? No, but that’s hardly the point. It’s a pretty big overhaul of the original NES game. Some might say it’s too big an overhaul, but I think it should have gone further. Before the game proper even begins, Samus herself frames the next several hours of gameplay as her telling the tale of “my first battle here… My so-called Zero Mission.” It’s the perfect opportunity to create an action-packed, guns-blazing, greatest-hits version of the first Metroid. The game seems to play into this at many points, it’s relatively cinematic, and very linear in the critical path. The game, unfortunately, rarely capitalizes on this concept, only really delivering on being a greatest-hits.
Zero Mission, with all its changes, still shares the same windy-world of its origin game, and I think that’s a problem. This hardly feels like, well, anything! Samus’ journey feels more like a chore, or a guided tour, than it does a dramatic retelling of Metroid. I like the ending sequence quite a bit, but was often frustrated by it. I think this is a direct result of the rest of the game feeling so inconsequential in comparison. I don’t think every area needed to live up to the atmosphere and scope of this sequence, they did need to be designed in such a way that contributes to this focus on action and movement. Like I said, this reimagining should have gone further!
Maybe it was a tall order to expect both a drastic overhaul in mechanics AND entirely new map design. This is a compromise that will allow newcomers to the Metroid series to get a feel on its unique sensibilities, and tour some of its most iconic locations. That being said, it’s a compromise that didn’t do much for me. It ends up a weird union of Super Metroid’s large, interconnected world; Fusion’s linearity and tight controls - but with none of the strengths those games have. Zero Mission is fun game to play at times, but feels lacking in identity and impact.
Zero Mission, with all its changes, still shares the same windy-world of its origin game, and I think that’s a problem. This hardly feels like, well, anything! Samus’ journey feels more like a chore, or a guided tour, than it does a dramatic retelling of Metroid. I like the ending sequence quite a bit, but was often frustrated by it. I think this is a direct result of the rest of the game feeling so inconsequential in comparison. I don’t think every area needed to live up to the atmosphere and scope of this sequence, they did need to be designed in such a way that contributes to this focus on action and movement. Like I said, this reimagining should have gone further!
Maybe it was a tall order to expect both a drastic overhaul in mechanics AND entirely new map design. This is a compromise that will allow newcomers to the Metroid series to get a feel on its unique sensibilities, and tour some of its most iconic locations. That being said, it’s a compromise that didn’t do much for me. It ends up a weird union of Super Metroid’s large, interconnected world; Fusion’s linearity and tight controls - but with none of the strengths those games have. Zero Mission is fun game to play at times, but feels lacking in identity and impact.
2021
I need him so bad.
Neon Splash improves massively upon the original Demon Turf’s structure, and while a few unique quirks from the original fall to the wayside, this is a more rewarding, complete experience. Only the best parts of Beebz’s moveset and the levels she’d navigate are brought to Neon Splash. And while your options for movement can lead to rote paths through each level, there are enough windows for creative expression and sequence breaking that are really fun.
Collectibles are still an issue, often slowing down the pace to crawl if you choose to go for them. And when the speedrun clock, and the amount of lollipops you’ve collected, are given the same real estate in the UI, this sends some mixed messages. I think these collectibles would fare better if the game didn’t track how many you collect or how many are in each level, and if their placements were more closely tied to the main path, maybe tempting players to take a harder route through a segment.
While this game does suffer from some of the same issues as Demon Turf, notably with collectibles and a rigid movement system, steps were taken to improve the flaws of its predecessor, and Neon Splash is a huge improvement on every front because of it, ESPECIALLY structurally. Great rebound!
Collectibles are still an issue, often slowing down the pace to crawl if you choose to go for them. And when the speedrun clock, and the amount of lollipops you’ve collected, are given the same real estate in the UI, this sends some mixed messages. I think these collectibles would fare better if the game didn’t track how many you collect or how many are in each level, and if their placements were more closely tied to the main path, maybe tempting players to take a harder route through a segment.
While this game does suffer from some of the same issues as Demon Turf, notably with collectibles and a rigid movement system, steps were taken to improve the flaws of its predecessor, and Neon Splash is a huge improvement on every front because of it, ESPECIALLY structurally. Great rebound!
While there are some quirks lost in translation, the remake of Link's Awakening is a perfectly fine way to experience the original. The streamlined item management and seamless overworld go a long way to make this a more brisk experience - which could be worse depending on who you ask! Its remade visuals may not be for everyone, but I think they fit the surreal vibe of the game quite nicely, even if I think they could have went weirder with them. By far this game's biggest flaw is the shaky framerate and constantly flickering lighting.
Perhaps for me, who has beaten Link's Awakening DX multiple times, it was an experience that, at times, made me homesick. And I think many people who have played this game first, would feel the same way if they jumped ship to the Gameboy original.
Perhaps for me, who has beaten Link's Awakening DX multiple times, it was an experience that, at times, made me homesick. And I think many people who have played this game first, would feel the same way if they jumped ship to the Gameboy original.
Maybe it’s not as good as Celeste’s omni-directional dash, but Lani’s grappling hook feels like an idea ripe with potential. I obviously look forward to the team’s next game, Earthblade, but playing this game made me yearn for a full and refined game with Lani at its base.
Metroid: Samus Returns is more than its melee-counter and more than its final boss. However, I’m going to use both to get my points across. I’ll get back to the latter, later, but as for the melee-counter? It makes so much sense for a Metroid game. The series has trended towards action and spectacle as the years have gone on and while I’m apprehensive to this, I think the melee-counter is, so far, the least obtrusive way to incorporate more action and spectacle into the games. Look no further than a single game later and its clear that it had a lot of potential, it absolutely rules in Metroid Dread! As for its implementation in Metroid: Samus Returns? It’s fine. The stop-and-start combat is bemoaned for good reason, but I found that the counter was satisfying to execute, and wasn’t necessary in nearly as many encounters as its detractors led me to believe. Gaining new upgrades especially eases the need to use it as a be-all-end-all. I haven’t mentioned it, but “enemies” are more aggressive than ever, which incentivizes the counter’s use. Metroid II: Return of Samus, did not have aggressive enemies, likely due to its smaller field-of-view, which itself was likely due to the game being made for the Gameboy. It also helps with the game’s overall messaging, as it drives home the fact that Samus is invasive and violent to this planet’s ecosystem. The nature of a remake is weird to me.
I’m going to try to not assume intent going forward, but I think the design of Metroid: Samus Returns’ world was due to the technological advances the 3DS affords and the fact that games need more content to survive in the market. There’s a map now, each level is much larger, enemy AI is more advanced, and the paths between levels are littered with more puzzles or challenges. Despite the fact that this game follows a similar structure and contains most of the same upgrades in most the same order with the same encounters, I have to wonder if the most important parts of Metroid II were reimagined intelligently. If each game has a theme that it intends to convey, in otherwards, an intention (one that is inherent to the game itself, and not to the developers), I think a remake should aim to preserve that theme. At most, I think it should try to elaborate or comment on it. Like the aforementioned lack of aggressive enemies in the original, its tone would also be established in a few other ways. Paths between levels were void of any puzzles, they felt less like an area where the game was performed, and more so an area that characterised Samus’ descent. So cramped and void of content, the placement of these twisting pathways in the game’s narrative allow the game to focus on the sole mission of Samus Aran: get to the next level, and destroy all the metroids. There’s a plodding sense to it all, which is also characterised by your encounters with the metroids, which are very monotonous due to their singular movesets, even if they appear in a variety of different, naturalistic room layouts. This is a job for Samus. This unapproachable aspect of Metroid II has been ironed out for the remake. There’s little time to think, the paths between areas are filled with content, most metroid arenas are not sequestered, and each fight plays out like an action movie due to the melee counter. The dilemma I have is that despite the fact that I had a very good time with Metroid: Samus Returns, I don’t think it’s a good reimagining of the original Metroid II’s themes, nor do I think it elaborates on them particularly well, and that’s precisely because it’s a more accommodating game that you can more easily have a very good time with. The nature of a remake is weird to me.
I think Samus Returns is an fine game. As much as I will defend the maligned metroid fights, melee-counter, and aieon gauge, I will admit these aspects all have their flaws. I also think a lot of levels are unmemorable. At the same time, I think its combat has a unique flavour, its movement more refined than ever, and I relish how easy it is to get lost in each level. This game’s final battle is a wholly new addition. It doesn’t occur in the original Metroid II, and it’s a fun fight! It’s also perhaps the poster-child for Metroid II purists. “It compromises the tone of the ending!” “It makes no sense!” I can agree with the sentiment here, but I could only ever see eye-to-eye with these complaints had this been the ending to the original Metroid II. I think Samus Returns establishes itself as a more action-oriented game from the onset, and so its ending kinda makes sense given its unique tone! Even if I don’t like its approach, and I prefer the more careful ecological theme of the original, it makes sense to me. I mentioned before that I think each game has an intent inherent to it, one that exists divorced from any developer forethought. Because of my time with the Metroid series, reading its manuals, and noticing its shift to being more action-oriented, I can feel relatively confident that any intent the developers had for the original Metroid II is divorced from the intent that Metroid II actually conveys. Even if this is not the case, I’d be 100% willing-to-bet the series and the people most involved with the series have changed their mind - 11 years later and the Metroid IV manual has Samus referring to the planet featured in Metroid II as “vile.” This remake, 15 years later, states that even the metroids from SR388 are manmade bioweapons, which is especially strange. Like Zero Mission, it tries to mythologize the game it’s based on, smashing more lore, content, and action, onto the original’s fragile atmosphere which only the most staunch defenders of these “black sheep” games could appreciate. Metroid: Samus Returns is exciting, fun despite its issues, and its lore is messy - yeah - remake or not, that’s certainly a Metroid game, through and through. The nature of any game is weird to me.
I’m going to try to not assume intent going forward, but I think the design of Metroid: Samus Returns’ world was due to the technological advances the 3DS affords and the fact that games need more content to survive in the market. There’s a map now, each level is much larger, enemy AI is more advanced, and the paths between levels are littered with more puzzles or challenges. Despite the fact that this game follows a similar structure and contains most of the same upgrades in most the same order with the same encounters, I have to wonder if the most important parts of Metroid II were reimagined intelligently. If each game has a theme that it intends to convey, in otherwards, an intention (one that is inherent to the game itself, and not to the developers), I think a remake should aim to preserve that theme. At most, I think it should try to elaborate or comment on it. Like the aforementioned lack of aggressive enemies in the original, its tone would also be established in a few other ways. Paths between levels were void of any puzzles, they felt less like an area where the game was performed, and more so an area that characterised Samus’ descent. So cramped and void of content, the placement of these twisting pathways in the game’s narrative allow the game to focus on the sole mission of Samus Aran: get to the next level, and destroy all the metroids. There’s a plodding sense to it all, which is also characterised by your encounters with the metroids, which are very monotonous due to their singular movesets, even if they appear in a variety of different, naturalistic room layouts. This is a job for Samus. This unapproachable aspect of Metroid II has been ironed out for the remake. There’s little time to think, the paths between areas are filled with content, most metroid arenas are not sequestered, and each fight plays out like an action movie due to the melee counter. The dilemma I have is that despite the fact that I had a very good time with Metroid: Samus Returns, I don’t think it’s a good reimagining of the original Metroid II’s themes, nor do I think it elaborates on them particularly well, and that’s precisely because it’s a more accommodating game that you can more easily have a very good time with. The nature of a remake is weird to me.
I think Samus Returns is an fine game. As much as I will defend the maligned metroid fights, melee-counter, and aieon gauge, I will admit these aspects all have their flaws. I also think a lot of levels are unmemorable. At the same time, I think its combat has a unique flavour, its movement more refined than ever, and I relish how easy it is to get lost in each level. This game’s final battle is a wholly new addition. It doesn’t occur in the original Metroid II, and it’s a fun fight! It’s also perhaps the poster-child for Metroid II purists. “It compromises the tone of the ending!” “It makes no sense!” I can agree with the sentiment here, but I could only ever see eye-to-eye with these complaints had this been the ending to the original Metroid II. I think Samus Returns establishes itself as a more action-oriented game from the onset, and so its ending kinda makes sense given its unique tone! Even if I don’t like its approach, and I prefer the more careful ecological theme of the original, it makes sense to me. I mentioned before that I think each game has an intent inherent to it, one that exists divorced from any developer forethought. Because of my time with the Metroid series, reading its manuals, and noticing its shift to being more action-oriented, I can feel relatively confident that any intent the developers had for the original Metroid II is divorced from the intent that Metroid II actually conveys. Even if this is not the case, I’d be 100% willing-to-bet the series and the people most involved with the series have changed their mind - 11 years later and the Metroid IV manual has Samus referring to the planet featured in Metroid II as “vile.” This remake, 15 years later, states that even the metroids from SR388 are manmade bioweapons, which is especially strange. Like Zero Mission, it tries to mythologize the game it’s based on, smashing more lore, content, and action, onto the original’s fragile atmosphere which only the most staunch defenders of these “black sheep” games could appreciate. Metroid: Samus Returns is exciting, fun despite its issues, and its lore is messy - yeah - remake or not, that’s certainly a Metroid game, through and through. The nature of any game is weird to me.