So, I recently incited the wrath of seemingly thousands of NeoGAF readers by defaming the good standing of Metroid: Zero Mission. One of them even said he hated me as much as he hated Amy Winehouse, which was so left-field I almost took it personally. Let me further establish that I am totally batshit, tastewise, by giving you my list of favorite games in the Metroid series:
1) Metroid
2) Metroid Prime
3) Metroid II: Return of Samus
4) Metroid Fusion
5) Metroid Prime 2: Echoes
6) Super Metroid
7) Metroid: Zero Mission
8) Metroid Prime 3: Corruption
See? I'm fuckin' nuts. I'm a madman. I'd slit my momma's throat for a nickel. Granted, I still think all of those games are pretty swell, but please feel free to completely disregard my opinions on Metroid, videogames in general, fluffy bunnies, etc. That said, since my fellow blogger Amber mounted a thoughtful and cogent defense of Zero Mission yesterday, I feel obliged to clarify my thoughts.
First of all, despite Amber's objections, I can't really attribute my preference for the original Metroid over Zero Mission to nostalgia, because I'd never played the original Metroid until the late '90s, when I was already a cantankerous teenager. I'd played Super Metroid well before that, and it never stuck with me as much.
As far as the popular notion that the original Metroid is unplayable — I think contemporary gamers have in some ways been spoiled by easier games and smoother controls. No doubt Zero Mission controls better than its source game, and no doubt Metroid is hard, but it's far from the hardest thing on the NES. I wouldn't call it unplayable, but one thing I would call it is "hostile." Which actually fits its themes pretty well.
One thing that games did by default back in the day was leave a lot to the imagination. There weren't a lot of system resources for story, comic-art interludes, etc. You could argue that the designers would've put that stuff in if they could have — ie, "It's only that way because it's on the NES." But that gets into the good ol' intentional fallacy. Once Metroid is out in the world, it doesn't matter what Gumpei Yokoi would've done if he'd had the resources. What matters is what's on the cart and how it affects us when we play. By leaving a lot to the imagination, Metroid invites you more openly into its world. This is one of the virtues of simplicity. It's the same reason I prefer The Legend of Zelda to A Link to the Past (a game for which I have far more nostalgic feelings), or Mega Man II to Mega Man VI, even though the later games are clearly more polished and planned. For me, Metroid lost something once it started explaining about Space Pirates and Chozo and so forth. Once those strange, ancient bird statues had a name, they went from the realm of the uncanny and dreamlike to just elements of a standard-issue space opera — one that happens to be very well done, but familiar material none-the-less.
I should also address my allegation that Zero Mission is full of hand-holding. As many people quite rightly pointed out, Zero Mission actually allows you to sequence break pretty substantially. This is definitely cool, I agree. (Actually, here's a remarkable chart of possible sequence breaks, which makes clear how malleable Zero Mission really can be.) So "hand-holding" may not be the right charge. Let me be more precise. For me, the distinction between Metroid and its sequels, and also between Zelda and its sequels, comes down to (bear with me) the difference between a godless world and a created world. The world of Metroid is truly alien. It's full of repetitions, corridors that go nowhere, areas with no apparent human purpose. (Memory limitations, I know — see "intentional fallacy" above.) In "modern gaming" terms, this means that it's, in some ways, less fun to run around in. That also means that it feels disorienting, atmospheric, organic, "real." (And on a side note, I'm not sure "fun" should be the ultimate determinant of a great videogame — if we want games to be art, great art is not always "fun" per se. . . a tangent you'll probably thank me for not following further.) Again, think of the space jockey in Alien. There's no explanation for it. It's just there.
In contrast — yes, there is no verbal explanation for a lot of stuff in Zero Mission. But let's look at the subtextual implications of the gameplay. Let's say you go into a room where you acquire the Ice Beam. Once you get it, you have to use the Ice Beam in a puzzle to get back out of the room. By establishing a logical construction like that, Zero Mission (like most other Metroid games) implies intelligent creation. There is a cause/effect structure, thereby tipping the hand of the creator. In Zero Mission, Zebes isn't an incomprehensible alien world. It's an intricately constructed puzzle box — a very well-made one, but a human artifact all the same, in the same way that the half-decayed ancient ruins Link wanders in Zelda become clever videogame constructions in Zelda III. I realize this is a subtle distinction, but to me, it makes a huge difference in the experience of playing the games. I'm an atheist, and that cold, atheistic Metroid just hits me where it hurts. No disrespect to Zero Mission, really. It's a great game. Metroid is a place.
Related:
Rebuttal: Say What About Metroid: Zero Mission
The Five Greatest Enhanced Remakes, and Five That Weren't So Great, Part 3
For Love of the Game: Metroid II Remakes