61 Frames Per Second : the legend of zelda

Brainstorm: What Happened to Connectivity?

Bob Mackey — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 16:00:00 GMT

When Nintendo launched their limited campaign of GameCube/Game Boy Advance connectivity, I was an English-majoring undergrad (AKA "that dude with too much free time") with two friends who were nerdy enough to also have GBAs, link cables, and a high tolerance for gimmicky hardware tricks. Our time was limited to the three main games playable for this sick intercourse between console and portable gaming systems: Pac-Man Vs., Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, and The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords Adventures. The first two titles gave us our share of fun, but the last one marks one of the best (though brief) multiplayer experiences I've ever had in my life.

I've never been too excited about online multiplayer, because--for me, anyway--it's always been alienating and lacking that distinct sense of entertaining madness that comes with a group of friends screaming at each other in the same small room. So I was a bit bummed when Nintendo dropped their connectivity plans so soon after starting them; despite requiring a lot of gear to get working, the whole GBA/GameCube pair-up allowed for some amazingly unique multiplayer experiences. And now that the worldwide takeover of both the DS and Wii has made countless homes equipped with enough Nintendo hardware to start their own GameStops, a newer and easier form of connectivity could bring back some of that joy I experienced so briefly five years ago. But why has Nintendo dropped the ball?

I've always wondered why Nintendo limited Wii/DS interaction solely to the downloading of demos when so much more could be done between the two systems. Sure, Miyamoto and company may still wake up screaming with bad memories of last-gen's connectivity going over like a lead balloon, but wireless technology has made things much simpler now. And considering how happy Nintendo is to foist confusing, unintuitive features on its audience (*cough* friend codes), a Wii and a DS making sweet wireless love seems too simple to screw up. Considering the low budget nature of Four Swords Adventures, why not throw up multiplayer episodic content for WiiWare? It'd be an inexpensive undertaking, and the press would go crazy for a "new" Zelda game being released for a Nintendo platform that sees its share of garbage. I could just be crazy, but I always thought system connectivity wasn't explored nearly as much as it should have been.

Any thoughts on this?

Related Links:

Miyamoto Says Something Was "Missing" From Zelda: Twilight Princess. We Know It, Too.
The Legend of Zelda: Manifest Destiny
Pick Up Chicks In the Zelda Mobile

Criterion Collection + Videogames = Best GAF Thread Ever

Peter Smith — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Over the years, much has been made of Mega Man's hideous box art, and of the general pimplyness of game art's 8-bit pubescence. But ere we hurl stones at an older era's ugly glass houses, let us first look to our own, or something!

Like this, for example. Now that is some garish shit. Even the boxes for major games like Metroid Prime 3 aren't likely to win any design awards. Most of the time, they evoke summer-blockbuster viewing more than the subtler experiences their contents (hopefully) provide. They also tend to be stuffed full of colorful characters, when, more often, the unique experience of a game comes not from its characters but from the texture of its world.

Perhaps realizing this, some clever commenter over at NeoGAF started a thread soliciting game box art designed in the vein of Criterion Collection DVDs — playful, inventive, minimalistic, gorgeous. It is — ahem — the best thread ever. So much the best that even I, not much for Photoshop, spent a few hours mocking up some covers myself. Hit the jump for my efforts and my favorites from the thread.

Super Mario 64 - McBacon
Very much in the Criterion mold, which some contributors didn't quite catch.

Dr. Mario - somnific
Elegant, simple, instantly recognizable. Awesome work.

Bioshock - Bernbaum
This one's ingenious, and (given its simplicity) remarkably eerie in its evocation of the lost city.

Mirror's Edge - Jocchan
There are a bunch of Mirror's Edge pics in this thread, many of them very handsome, but this one makes a highbrow art reference in a non-arbitrary way.

Donkey Kong Country - Jocchan
Really captures the playfulness and tactile quality of many Criterion covers in a way that also perfectly suits the game.

Sonic the Hedgehog - zaidr
Just a great idea, and it also emphasizes how Sonic and co (in their earliest, best form) are less characters than multicolored, shiny projectiles in a giant pinball machine.

Okay — here are mine:

I've always loved that sunset/sunrise scene on Zelda's title screen; by hiding what's on the other side, it implies mystery and adventure in a way unskippable owl monologues never will.

Another wonderful thing about Zelda 1 is the mystery of the ancient. I wanted this picture to look like the dusty cover of some '60s anthropology book, but I'm not good enough at Photoshop for that, so instead it looks like the poster for an IFC documentary about Bali.

Then there's Zelda's sense of loneliness, which I thought was well-served by this Asher Durand painting. I picked that font cause it made me think of academic editions of 19th-century American classic novels (which often have Asher Durand paintings on the cover, as well). If I were really working for Criterion, I'd make sure to find a Durand painting with some hollow tree roots, to emphasize that sense in Zelda that there are secrets (to everyone!) tucked away everywhere.

The original Metroid is a scary game, largely because of the feeling of exploring a dead world. Those Chozo statues don't have a comic-book back story; they're just sitting there, creeping you the fuck out. Dead birds tell no tales, friends. (Until they get sequels, anyway.)

Using game assets seems like something of a cheat on these covers, since part of the goal is to suggest a tactile quality that the games themselves leave to the imagination. But when the game art is as immortal as Yoshitaka Amano's, it's hard to say no. (Sorry — that second one doesn't scan so well on a white background.)

So there you have it. (Sadly, the word "Actraiser" superimposed on El Greco's "Annunciation" wasn't as awesome as I'd hoped.) Go check out the thread, then start demanding better from your favorite game publishers!

Shadow of the Colossus: First Impressions

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 19:06:00 GMT

Fear not. Shadow of the Colossus is a pretty epic title, but I won't run to the computer and bang out a report every time I actually get Agro to run in the direction I want him to—though if you ask me, that's an accomplishment in itself. First impressions are fun to read, though, so I will accommodate the good readers of 61FPS.

It probably won't surprise you when I say the presentation in this game is absolutely gorgeous. I usually give an opening cinematic ten seconds to please me before I mash the Start button, but when I sat back and watched Wander's ponderous but purposeful journey to the Temple, I felt something familiar pull at me. Like I was watching a favourite sequence from a well-loved movie. Various flashes of imagery and sound in this game already remind me of The Neverending Story, a book that never fails to instill me with a sense of solemn adventure despite multiple readings.

Doubtlessly you already know that Shadow of the Colossus features a quiet, calming atmosphere that stands to be butchered by Hollywood, so I'll talk a bit about how it plays. What you need to know: this game is creaming me.

Shadow of the Colossus thrives on its singleness, so there are no menus to shuffle through and no items to sniff out. Most everything you need to hunt the Colossi is available from the very beginning. Wander has the moves standard to a warrior: running, jumping, clinging (very important) and horse-calling. Rolling, aiming, and swinging his sword should be familiar territory for the average 3D Zelda player.

Where Shadow of the Colossus differs from Nintendo's series is you are expected to hone these skills to a needle-sharp point if you're going to stand a chance against the Colossi—and the game isn't about to give you any freebies. I'm only on the first Colossi. I sauntered up to the big bugger thinking he'd be the prerequisite giveaway “tutorial” monster. Next thing I knew, he was wiping me off the bottom of his boulder-sized hoof.

The game doesn't leave you completely blind. Gentle prompts hint at what you need to slay these stone giants, but you won't be easily forgiven if you mess up. Getting smashed by a stone club twenty times the size of a human being hurts about as much as you'd expect it to.

What really caught me off guard was Agro. I'm so used to handling Link's steed, Epona, that I forgot real horses typically don't stop on a dime or make 180 turns as easily as a boy flips a Matchbox car. Like most horses, Agro needs to be coaxed, not controlled. But the bond between Wander and his beast feels more rewarding for it, somehow.

There will be further musings down the road, as this is a muse-worthy game. If I don't get utterly stuck at the first Colossi, mind.

Related Links:

Time For Me To Play Shadow of the Colossus
The Legend of Zelda: Manifest Destiny
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Stupidity

Projects that Need to Survive: Link's Awakening 3D

Bob Mackey — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 19:30:00 GMT

Over the years, we've seen many interesting fan projects come and go--though they seem to do more of the latter. The Chrono Trigger 3D remake? Killed by Square-Enix. That 2D Ocarina of Time thingy? The dude behind it either bought the farm or faked his own death to escape responsibility--it's never been clear what actually happened there. Now, we can add yet another ambitious projects to the list of "neat things that will befall some sort of tragic fate" with MithosK-Games' 3D reimagining of the Game Boy classic, Link's Awakening.

Hey, I'm not being negative. I'm being realistic.

To be fair, there's already quite a bit done on this project; so far, the entirety of the game's overworld has been rendered in glorious 3D. And, given the original game's simple, tile-based makeup, it seems like reworking the graphical elements of Link's Awakening should make for a somewhat easy task. But with MithosK-Games showing their hand so early, it seems very unlikely that the actual game part of this remake will be finished anytime soon. After all, Nintendo has a vested interest in quashing anything remotely threatening to their IP, and MithosK's project fits this description to a T. I'll definitely be all over this if the project gets finished, so if Nintendo catches word of it before then, they certainly didn't hear it from me.

Thanks to the Retronauts Twitter for the news.

Related Links:

Mega Man Fan Movie Trailer
Paper Covers Rockman
The End of Time and the Beginning of Fan Drama

Things that Make Me Swear Profusely: A Top 10 List - part 1

Amber Ahlborn — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 15:00:00 GMT

I love video games. If you're reading this you probably do too. And yet, even games I like often have parts that I hate. Parts that annoy and dissatisfy. Parts that disappoint. And parts that force my entire vocabulary of profane wordage to erupt involuntarily from my throat in blind rage.

Starting with the mildest offenders and working our way up, let's see what sets me off.

Rage + 1. Skies of Arcadia Legends and random monster encounters every two friggin steps – This is one of my favorite RPGs. I love it, but I really think the encounter rate is just a touch too high.

Come on already!

Rage + 2. The Legend of Zelda Phantom Hourglass and that one dungeon – You know the one. The one you have to revisit over and over and over and over and over and over...

Seems like I've been here before...

Rage + 3. Sonic and the Secret Rings and the controls of doom – This game does not suck. For a 3-D Sonic title, it's pretty darn good. But sometimes the control scheme does not work. Sometimes you die because Sonic can't turn around. Sometimes you die because his air dash sends you flying off into oblivion. Sometimes Sonic just sucks.

Not as cool as you think you are.

Rage + 4. Sonic Adventure and everything in it – I couldn't beat the first area with Tails because the wind kept killing me and the ground was a lie.

Sega, your game is broken.

Rage + 5. Dance Dance Revolution Hottest Party announcer guy – I bought this game simply for the exercise and after about 10 minutes developed a pure loathing for the announcer guy. Yeah, I already know I suck. You don't need to tell me, announcer guy. Go choke on a sweat sock.

Less talk.

continued in part 2...

Related Links:

Whatcha Playing: On the Road Again

Watcha Playing: Loving/Hating Mario Kart Wii

Ranty McRant Rant: What the Hell does Casual Mean?

Doing the Mario Over Christmas Break

Bob Mackey — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 21:00:00 GMT

From everyone here at 61FPS, I'd like to wish each and every one of you a merry Christmas. The other writers would probably like to wish you a merry Christmas too, but I'm going to go ahead and do it for them, because that's just the kind of guy I am: a massive jerk. Unfortunately, we're not going to be back until 2009, but there's no need to despair; sure, you could go read other blogs in the meantime, but that would be insane. Instead, I suggest you do what I'm going to waste the next week-or-so doing: watching embarrassing programs from my childhood through the power of modern technology.

That's right; if you have an XBox 360 and a Netflix subscription (as well as a high-speed internet connection and a total lack of shame) you have the ability to see how you may have thrown away your most formative years on this terrible planet. Currently, Netflix offers three different TV shows from the not-too-distant past that most of us watched non-ironically as children--irony having only been invented in 1997. Allow my brief reviews to help you find what's right for you; or, grab your favorite Frito-Lay snack and enjoy all of the video game-related programming from that wonderful decade known as the 1980s. Just make sure your heart doesn't stop beating from all the inactivity.

The Super Mario Bros. Super Show - Where else can you see a washed-up former wrestler (and, for a brief period, Madonna's pro-choice father) play one of gaming's most beloved characters? Sadly, our modern day washed-up wrestlers go straight to the whiskey-soaked gutters, but back in the late 80s you could take off your WWF belt, put on a goofy costume, and serve as the framing device for some horribly animated cartoons. The icing on this cake comes in the form of the final credits, where Captain Lou Albano (pictured above) spends so much time telling you to "do the Mario" that it's never clear how it's actually done, aside from moving your arms from side to side. Yeah, I find myself moving my arms from side to side a lot; it's called walking. Real original, Captain Lou.

The Legend of Zelda - Probably the most faithful of the old-timey video game cartoons, though there still are a few problems: the Triforce only has two parts (a BI-force, if you will) and how every single weapon in Hyrule happens to shoot kid-friendly, non-violent lasers. But the basic elements are basically untouched: you've got Link, you've got Zelda, you've got Ganon, and you've got antics a-plenty. Though, in an effort to give Nintendo's dull little elf boy some personality, the writers of this cartoon decided to give Link a single, overbearing trait: his constant throbbing erection for Princess Zelda. Lil' Link is nearly the lead character in the show, which leads to some inappropriate moments of sexual tension for a kid's cartoon. Watch it with someone you love.

Captain N: The Game Master - Captain N is basically Nintendo salad, and just as intellectually nutritious--though it's not for you Nintendo purists out there. The writers of Captain N play fast and loose with aspects of video game canon to the point where giving two main characters personalities completely based on their speech impediments is the least offensive thing they have to offer. Let's hope you're comfortable with Metroid villain Mother Brain being a complete ripoff of Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors, as well as the litany of tiny mistakes that prove more money was spent on cocaine (the 1980s) than research by the staff of Captain N. Even simple problems like Mega Man boss Cutman being referred to as "Cutsman" had me repeating the nerd chorus of "I hope someone got fired for that blunder." Thankfully, people on the Internet have taken the liberty of documenting all of these mistakes. And clicking here will lead you to an examination of one of them. Bask in the glow of your relatively non-wasted life.

That's all from me until 2009. Special thanks to my pal Nick Daniel, who helped me think up some jokes during our torturous sessions of watching this garbage. In the spirit of Christmas giving, you should probably go and visit his web comic that I helped write until I was fired for insubordination. You'll be delighted to find that it isn't insufferable pap about two guys who sit on a couch, play video games, and unleash wisecracks that wouldn't make the first draft of a Yes, Dear script. Happy holidays!

Related Links:

Questionable Nintendo Products: Mario's Cradle-Robbing Picnic Plates
Nintendo Might Just Hate You
So I hear folks are upset with Nintendo...

Whatcha Playing: On the Road Again

John Constantine — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 01:15:00 GMT

Wherein travelling inevitably leads to thinking about Zelda, the nature of game linearity and unskippable passive sequences in games.

Five men in their late 20s are heading south on route 80 through New Jersey in a white Dodge Caravan. They listen to loud music and discuss plans for the weekend ahead of them. Before too long, they pass signs for a town called Hibernia. As they are a group raised on far, far too many videogames, the fanciful name of what is likely a small, simple town full of good, honest folk quickly transforms it into a land of adventure, intrigue and obnoxious obligation.

“Ho stranger! You have stopped for gasoline in Hibernia? I would love to give you some, but first you must travel beyond the woods and acquire a ruffled dragoon feather. I need them to make gasoline!”

“Hey! Hey! Have you tried pressing Z to look at signs? Press A to read signs! Hey!”

“You must equip a sword and a shield before you can leave the car. Who would leave the car without a sword and a shield?”

Yes, even something as an innocuous as a roadtrip leads to making fun of Zelda, and by proxy, every other videogame that makes you engage in a string of needless bullshit before letting you actually play. After we got the jokes out of our systems, we did start talking about how, when the itch arises, we all love going back and replaying past Zeldas, but have almost no desire to replay any of the 3D games any time soon. Everyone in the van has affection for Ocarina and Wind Waker – Opinions on Majora’s Mask vary. Personally, I find it to be a freaking chore to play, no matter how creative. Twilight Princess, we agreed, feels like actually doing chores when you play it. – but the prospect of wading through a never ending stream of unskippable conversations makes returning to these games unsavory. The constant handholding is bad enough, even without taking five minutes to listen to some owl made of triangles rant about a mountain, finally getting through the diatribe, and accidentally asking him to repeat himself.

The conversation was oddly prescient. I started playing the DS remake of Final Fantasy IV for the first time shortly after everyone settled into the drive. I enjoyed the Final Fantasy III remake two years back, and was ready to see what IV had to offer. After the ever-familiar Red Wings assault on Mysidia, Cecil’s sad departure from Baron, his introduction to Rydia and sad exile, I noticed that the shift from Final Fantasy III to IV was significant. Between 1990 and 1991, Hirnobu Sakaguchi made two RPGs, one that offered a great deal of exploratory freedom at the game’s outset and then another that led the player largely by the nose throughout its initial hours. Final Fantasy IV, in any of its incarnations, is nowhere near as coddling as Ocarina of Time, but it is representative of games, specifically adventure and role-playing games, becoming increasingly linear following the 8-bit era. What caused the shift? Why did adventure in games start to become as directed as it is in the mediums that inspired it?

Yesterday, on our return trip, we passed by Hibernia a second time and chuckled again. It occurred to me that the trip made a good model for adventure design. We couldn’t avoid passing Hibernia. It was inevitable that our route would bring us past it multiple times. But we didn’t know it ahead of time, we were left to find it on our own. Shouldn’t every adventure be that way?

Related links:

Whatcha Playing: Tale of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Whatcha Playing: The Palette Cleanser
Whatcha Playing: de Blob
Whatcha Playing: Weight of the Stone
Know Your Final Fantasy IV Trivia. It Could Save Your Life.
Gaming on a Train: Final Fantasy IV

Your Way: Chrono Trigger and The Glory of Options

John Constantine — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 00:15:00 GMT

I spent the Thanksgiving holiday not shopping, not overeating, not doing much of anything outside of that most traditional holiday pursuit: catching up with family. Not the extended fam, just the nuclear, and even then we weren’t all around. Sometimes work and obligation gets in the way and not everyone can make it home, just the way it goes. It was just me and the parents. And Chrono Trigger, obviously. A true homecoming, really; early winter playthroughs of Chrono Trigger have been, for me, as much a tradition as seeing loved ones during the season but I’d fallen out of rhythm over the past three years. Excited as I was to play the game again, I was going in with some trepidation. Not over the two new dungeons, the new ending, or the re-written dialogue. (The script, by the way, saw far more significant changes than was previously reported. The re-write isn’t bad by any means, but some of the charm of Ted Woolsey’s original is lost.) No, I was worried about the incorporation of the PS1 version’s animated cutscenes. I skipped the earlier re-release because the thought of slowdown in Chrono Trigger is nauseating, but getting to avoid the cutscenes was an added bonus. Nothing against the anime stuff, it’s fine that it exists, but the game’s story simply doesn’t need those scenes. Not to mention how they break the game’s seamless presentation.

So it was a nice surprise when I saw this screen:

Much like the original SNES version, Chrono Trigger DS offers you a choice before the game even starts. In addition to letting you choose if you want battles to play in the Horii-standard turn-based fighting or the mid-‘90s-Sakaguchified active mode, CTDS asks if you want to use the new touch screen interface and if you want to turn off the anime cinemas. Not only that, but you can change the settings you choose whenever you want throughout the game, in a menu that is literally overflowing with customization options. Four pages of them in fact, letting you toggle everything from the anachronistic run button, menu cursor memory, even tutorial messages. You name it. And all of your current settings are listed on a single page on the DS’ top screen while you change them on the bottom. It is one of the most considerate features I have ever seen included in a game.

There is a lot to be said for a game being unchangeable by the time it reaches a player’s hands. This is what the creators wanted you to play and experience, so why should you be able to alter that? But I can’t tell you how much more I would enjoy Super Mario Galaxy if I could turn off Mario’s constant grunting and yelping, Resistance 2 if I could turn off the NPC-ally chatter, if I could just re-map the damn buttons in Mega Man Anniversary Collection on Gamecube. Think how much more enjoyable all of the 3D Zeldas would be if you could turn off tutorials? These might not seem like deal breakers, but sometimes it’s the niggling annoyances in a game that stick with you more than the story or actual gameplay. In letting you tune your experience, a game’s designer can not only ensure you get the most out of your time with their creation, but also let you glean an even greater appreciation for the work that went into making it. A perfect example is the ability to switch out the HD sprites for the originals in the recently released Street Fighter II Turbo HD Remix. Trust me, you don’t appreciate just how gorgeous the new characters are until you’ve seen the overgrown, pixilated classics hopping about in widescreen.

I enjoyed Persona 3 more because it let me turn off the voiceovers. I enjoyed Resistance: Fall of Man more because it let me completely remap the controls. And I enjoyed Chrono Trigger DS even more because of its truly generous options. What do you think, readers? How far should game designers let you tweak their games to ensure you play the best game you can?

Related links:

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The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Stupidity

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 23:47:00 GMT

The Legend of Zelda cartoon was one of the more competent game-based television series to foul up the '80s. That's not saying much, I suppose, especially when you recall some of the show's more ridiculous traits. Here's ten minutes of The Legend of Zelda, as collected and sewn together by The Switcher. Guaranteed to make you cringe and say, "Oh Christ above why did I love this? No wonder nobody ever came to my birthday parties."

I don't think I was ever aware that the Zelda cartoon had a considerable amount of innuendo. Dude, Link tried to ambush Zelda on her bed. If I were the king, I'd turn that impish rogue out on his bum and just set down some fly paper around the Triforce of Wisdom.

Related Links:

16-bit Morals: Sonic Warns You About Uncle Ernie
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The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask: Why I Let Termina Go Squish

Miyamoto Says Something Was "Missing" From Zelda: Twilight Princess. We Know It, Too.

Nadia Oxford — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:33:00 GMT

I really enjoyed The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. To me, it played like a much bigger, much more detailed version of Ocarina of Time, which is A-OK in my book. I also got to ride a horsey.

But in the most recent installment of a long-running interview with MTV Multiplayer, Shigeru Miyamoto acknowledges that perhaps Twilight Princess could have been...fresher.

Whatever your stance on the current status of the Zelda franchise, you can't really argue that it's a bad thing when its creator decides it's high time to innovate.

I like reading message board threads about the steps Nintendo should take to freshen up Zelda because nobody agrees on anything. Since I already know people are going to fire arrows on me for merely sharing my suggestions, I thought I'd belt out a few.

First, I'd love to see some cel-shaded graphics again, but not Wind Waker Link. The original Legend of Zelda and The Adventure of Link included some great instruction booklet character art that jogged our imaginations while we played as jagged snot-green sprites; I would love to see a return to that traditional art style. It inspired so many of us when our imaginations were still supple.

I'm a little tired of the Z-targeting system Zelda adopted with Ocarina of Time. It's been revised very little over the years. So what's my big idea? I don't know. I'm not a far-reaching thinker.

On the other hand, I don't complain when handheld systems give us the traditional top-down Zelda view--and God knows I will drop everything at anytime to start a fresh new game of A Link to the Past. So I will settle for some kind of adjustment to the gameplay mechanics of Twilight Princess. Majora's Mask built off Ocarina of Time, going as far as to use the same character models. But Nintendo explained things nicely by making Termina and alternate, doomed dimension of sorts. As such, the re-appearance of old characters under new names feels genuinely creepy instead of cheap.

That brings us to the flipsides and Dark Worlds that seem to be commonplace in Zelda these days. Link to the Past has the most successful example with the looming danger of the Dark and Light Worlds mingling and each major console release since has played off that since: Ocarina of Time presents a dark future where Ganon rules supreme and Twilight Princess features patches of darkness that bond Link to a wolf form.

Some gamers are tired of Light versus Dark Worlds in Zelda. I personally love them and I am super intrigued by shape-shifting beasties of all kind. I like the idea of Link being stuck in a non-human form that reflects his heart (and pink bunny beats lone wolf any day of the week). I was less thrilled when Twilight Princess turned its grim shadow worlds into a collect-a-thon and an extended game of "Ride the Birdie." Let me tear ass around Ganon's domain like you did in Link to the Past, Nintendo.

Those are my suggestions. Also, Link should be louder, angrier and have access to a time machine. Hey, wait a minute...

Related Links:

Faster, Link! Kill! Kill!
Whatcha Playing? BS Zelda
Philosophy? In MY Zelda?

For Love of the Game: The Legend of Zelda – The Shadowgazer

John Constantine — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 22:30:00 GMT

We could run a daily For Love of the Game feature on Zelda remakes alone. Zelda 1 with 16-bit graphics, Zelda 1 made out of Lego, two-dimensional Ocarina of Time, side-scrolling Ocarina of Time, Link’s Awakening running on Minish Cap’s engine, Twilight Princess dating sims, and on and on and on. People love Zelda, they always want more Zelda. But, and it’s a truth that’s taken a serious toll on the series, people tend to want Zelda exactly the way they’ve had it before, only slightly different. Fans aren’t the only ones who keep remaking Zelda; Eiji Aonuma’s been doing a bang-up job of it for almost a decade.

More interesting than homebrewers adding a special blend of basement hops to the same old quest-lager are those adventuresome folks making all new Zeldas. The re-appropriation of yesterday’s art can yield both inspired results, as with Zelda: Outlands, and well-meaning but forgettable outings like Parallel Worlds. It’s especially rare to see a homebrew Zelda filled with original sprites and scenarios. King Mob’s The Legend of Zelda: The Shadowgazer, from the looks of this trailer, is especially becoming. Some of the scenarios recall earlier Zeldas (at what point did fishing become a Zelda mainstay?), but the sheer craft on display keeps the game looking fresh. A giant King of Red Lions ship? Saving mewling goron pups from a sinister dream world? The return of Majora’s Mask’s three-day cycle as a platform for puzzle solving? These are big, fun ideas here, and they’re backed up by sprite-art chops to realize them.

The Shadowgazer’s been in production for quite awhile now, so here’s hoping King Mob manages to finish the game before life or Nintendo legal teams keep the dream from getting realized. Head on over to check out the demo.

Many thanks to NeoGAFfer Kai for spotting this diamond in the internet rough.

Related links:

Whatcha Playing: BS Zelda
Whatcha (Trying To) Play: Legend of Zelda: Parallel Worlds
Faster, Link! Kill! Kill!
Chiptune Friday: The Adventure of Link

Previous For Love of the Games:

Sonic 2 HD
Quest for Glory II
Rockman 7 FC
Outcast 2
Street Fighter One
Metroid II

Chiptune Friday: A Link To The Past

Derrick Sanskrit — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Last week's Zelda jam was a pleasant trip down memory lane, but it was missing one thing that I've come to enjoy here every friday: a booty-shakin' beat to celebrate the end of the work week dancing to! So today we're revisit Hyrule thanks to the stylish innovation that the kids these days are calling "the remix".

Yes, I'm cheating here a little bit, as this is not so much chiptune as a fully produced remix of chiptune, but this tune, along with the rest of RAC's Nintendo vs. Sega EP, is as much a celebration of its gaming roots as anything from the likes of nullsleep, Bit Shifter and company.

This four-track nostalgia dance party made the rounds on the blogs over six months ago when it was first released. Since then RAC has continued making sweet remixes, most notably a sweet mixtape sponsored by Stereogum. If you dug this Zelda jam, I strongly encourage you to download the entire Nintendo vs. Sega EP, which is free and offers three more tracks from the worlds of Super Mario and Sonic the Hedgehog.

Related articles:
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Philosophy? In my Zelda?

Cole Stryker — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 16:00:00 GMT

If a Deku Tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Philosophy grad student Luke Cuddy has edited a philosophy book dedicated to The Legend of Zelda, published by an imprint who has previously dealt with philosophy in The Matrix and The Simpsons. From the publisher:

The book asks such questions as: What is the nature of the gamer's connection to Link? Does Link have a will, or do we project ours onto him? How does the gamer experience the game? Do the rules of logic apply in the gameworld? How is space created and distributed in Hyrule (the fictional land in which the game takes place)? How does time function? Is Zelda art? Can Hyrule be seen as an ideal society? What about the Triforce (one of the goals of the game is to reunite pieces of a relic called "The Triforce")? Is there anything symbolic about courage, wisdom, and power? Why do we want to win and defeat Ganon (the evil tyrant in command of Hyrule in many of the games of the franchise)? Can the game be enjoyable without winning? Why do fans create timeline theories in such detail? Can these theories adhere to scientific standards? How is death treated in Hyrule? How do repetitive tasks done in the game differ from repetitive tasks done in everyday life?

Mmm hmm. Don't expect any gee-whiz game theory, a recent post on Cuddy's blog contains the following shocker:

True gamers understand that graphics aren't everything and that great game design can be achieved even within the technological limitations of a given time.

Deep. We read on:

I don't know if you've heard of The Video Game Theory Reader but it's an excellent compilation edited by Bernard Perron and Mark Wolf. It's chalk [sic] full of philosophy, even if it's not specifically geared towards philosophers. Upon reading it one is amazed at the philosophical depth possible with the simplest of early games (e.g. Adventure, Pong, Space Invaders).

Ugh. If these musings are any indication as to the content of the upcoming book, count me out. It will sell thousands of copies while real philosophy languishes on the shelves of your library. I'm not saying video games aren't fertile ground for philosophic discussion, this one just seems...a bit surfacey. I can't wait to see Alex Kierkegaard's take on this.

In other news, I'm slogging through Thus Spake Zarathustra right now. Feelin' snarky.

Alternate Soundtrack: StarTropics vs. Islands

Derrick Sanskrit — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:30:00 GMT

Some of our readers may recognize this pairing, as it was suggested by Rob waaaaaaaaaaay back in May.

Yes, StarTropics holds a special place in the hearts of many Nintendo fans. Conceived as a western sister game to The Legend of Zelda, StarTropics was a linear adventure about an American teenager (he was a Seattle high school baseball star!) exploring the monster-filled caves of tropical islands in order to rescue his archeologist uncle from aliens. Proving how very western the game was, neither it nor its sequel Zoda's Revenge were ever released in Nintendo's native Japan.

Islands is a Canadian pop band fronted by Nicholas Thorburn (formerly of The Unicorns) who are credited with with repopularizing the Paul Simon Graceland sound that has seen a resurgnace in the indie-pop scene as of late. There's really not much more to say on the subject, so let's go straight to the video:

Let us know what your alternate soundtracks are in the comments below. Clearly, we are listening.

Related articles:
Chiptune Friday: A Test of Island Courage!
Alternate Soundtrack: Donkey Kong '94 vs. Les Savy Fav
Alternate Soundtrack: Streets of Rage 2 vs. Test Icicles
Alternate Soundtrack: Altered Beast vs. Natalie Portman's Shaved Head

Rebuttal Rebuttal – I Stand With Metroid

Peter Smith — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 20:00:00 GMT

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

The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History, Part 2

Peter Smith — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:31:00 GMT

Super Mario 64

If you'd asked a young me to imagine a three-dimensional Mario Bros. game, I'd have pictured a screenshot from Super Paper Mario — essentially, the point-A-to-point-B linearity of classic side-scrolling Mario, shot from a different camera angle. Instead, Shigeru Miyamoto's first 3D adventure completely rewrote the rules of platforming, replacing the "get to the end" format with a variety of challenges set in one, open physical space. To a generation weaned on linearity, this was pretty overwhelming at first — I remember being plunked down in Bob-Omb Battlefield and wandering around like a chump for an embarrassingly long time. 64 was so different from its precursors that you arguably wouldn't call it a sequel, but bear in mind that no one knew at the time what the next generation of games would look like. Early 32-bit games like Bug and Clockwork Knight dressed 2D gaming in 3D clothes. As usual, that nut Miyamoto had something different in mind. — PS

Castlevania II: Simon's Quest

This game is full of fucking liars. That's the least of its eccentricities but it's worth pointing out up front. Up until the late '80s, Konami's bread and butter was short arcade games, heavy on action and reflex based play as exemplified by well-known staples like Contra and Gradius. The original Castlevania was no different, just six linear stages of unforgiving reaction play that demanded careful attention to the game's weighted attack/jump timing. As home consoles strengthened their grip on players, Konami followed the growing trend of creating longer, deeper play experiences. Castlevania II: Simon's Quest has only superficial similarities to Castlevania. You jump over platforms, whip monsters, and move from left to right. But the world is persistent, requiring you to revisit most locales, and it's littered with towns. Towns are full of non-enemy characters selling items and offering "advice" on how to proceed through the game's barely defined obstacles. Simon's Quest also introduced one of gaming's first night-and-day systems. During the day, towns are safe. At night, everything kills you in two seconds and towns are full of zombie chicks. Konami retreated from Castlevania II's experiments for almost a decade, but the series has never since done anything quite so daring as having its lead die after beating the game. — JC

Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

We are aware that this list is populated almost exclusively by games designed by Shigeru Miyamoto. What can we say? He's an adventurous guy. [Shouldn't that be "adventuresome guy?" — PS] The first Legend of Zelda is, arguably, Miyamoto's true masterpiece, the culmination of his first design era. His benchmarks: Donkey Kong created context and narrative, Super Mario Bros. brought speed and an expanding world beyond a single screen, and the Legend of Zelda created an actual world to explore, an organic place peppered with secrets. After its release in 1986, the next decade of Miyamoto's career was one marked more by refinement than creation. But, in 1987, Miyamoto got experimental. Alongside the aforementioned Super Mario Bros. 2 is Zelda's sequel, The Adventure of Link, a sequel so bizarre in its design choices that it's still seen as a blemish on a series considered unimpeachable by gamers and designers alike. While Zelda II doesn't eschew the original's birds-eye-view perspective entirely — travel and world exploration is presented this way, albeit with a much more expansive view — all the action takes place in multi-tiered scrolling stages (not dissimilar to SMB2's.) Items were replaced by spells learned from chatty townspeople, heart containers and swords replaced by role-playing style attribute growth, and link himself grew from a diminutive elf into a teenager with a peculiar, post-lobotomy stare. Unlike some of the other games on this list, very little of Zelda II's design has been used in subsequent adventures. I've found it only gets better with age, a diamond in the rough of a series that's become bloated and stagnant after twenty years of little revision. — JC

Click here for Part 1.
Click here for Part 3.

Whatcha Playing: BS Zelda

Peter Smith — Wed, 14 May 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Let's say, hypothetically, it's Monday evening and you wake up at midnight after passing out on the couch for a couple hours. You're too restless, headachy, drunk and sexually frustrated to go back to sleep. Hypothetically. And you've beaten The Legend of Zelda so many times in the past month, in an attempt to push your completion time under fifty minutes (final score: 49:58.13) that it doesn't have much to offer in the way of comforting distraction.

For a cosy mix of the familiar and new, do what I did and start up BS Zelda no Densetsu, the Zelda remake (or remix, more accurately) released in 1995 for Nintendo's Japan-only SNES-based modem system, the Satellaview. In its original incarnation, BS Zelda was played in four weekly "episodes"; you had to be in front of your TV at the right time to play it. Periodically, the game would pause and play narration offering tips. At certain set times, you'd get a special effect — a fairy would appear, all the enemies on the screen would freeze or die, your sword would be temporarily powered up.

The unique system made BS Zelda unplayable after its initial run, but in recent years, clever hackers have patched the game to remove some of its quirks. So basically what you get is a smaller, graphically tarted-up version of Zelda 1 with completely new maps. It's as delightful as its hallowed source game. I also should tip my hat to the sound effects. The original Zelda's sounds were a huge part of the fun; they helped make it extremely satisfying to fire your sword-laser-thing, throw a boomerang, or vaporize a roaming Darknut. BS Zelda's sounds are different and equally delicious. And as a whole, the game is sure to soothe your alcohol-roasted neurons.