Metroid: Zero Mission (GBA - 2004)

Metroid: Zero Mission is a retelling of 1987's original Metroid. I hate the original Metroid, but I love Metroid: Zero Mission. What improvements did it take to make this ground-breaking, genre-creating game go from something I could shrug off, to something I got excited to play for the third time?

"Still the Ultimate Space Adventure"

~Nintendo Power, referring to the first Metroid on the NES, circa 1991.

Before we talk about Metroid: Zero Mission, we need to talk about O.G. Metroid. I already gave the game some real shit, but hear me out. I don't think Metroid is a bad game. I just personally dislike it. Let's examine why.

Metroid - The Lonely Space Hunter with a Big Secret

Metroid was released for the NES in 1987. In the 8-bit hey-day, Metroid was cutting edge. The game was massive, the music was atmospheric and creepy, and the setup would inspire an entire genre called Metroidvania (a portmanteau of Metroid and Castlevania). A Metroidvania typically puts the player on a large, interconnected map. Often, the player isn't given a whole lot of direction, but as they explore, they'll discover areas that they cannot gain access to. As they progress, they'll gain permanent power-ups, weapons, or abilities that will allow them to backtrack to earlier areas in the game to reach new places.

Metroidvanias usually feel vast, and non-linear, and promote exploration. The player needs to pay attention to environmental cues and obstacles so that they may come back with the appropriate capabilities later to further progress into the game.

In Metroid, you play as "Space Hunter" Samus Aran. Like most games of this era, you get most the story from the instruction booklet. Samus was sent on a mission to defeat the Space Pirates, led by a creature called Mother Brain. The Space Pirates stole a dangerous life form called a Metroid, and were trying to weaponize it. Your job was to infiltrate their massive, fortress-like cave on the planet Zebes, work your way down to Mother Brain, and destroy it.

Straight forward enough, right? You work through this labyrinth, dispatching creepy creatures and hunting down better gear so you can advance your way to the end. You feel very alone and helpless. The ambiance is usually tense and foreboding. Players are left alone with Samus as they make their way through each area, backtracking when they get to a roadblock, gaining power-ups and new abilities, and gradually progressing deeper.

The game loses me due to a complete lack of hand-holding, slightly clumsy controls, and Aran's inability to shoot at most of the enemies. Most creatures are half your height, and your shots coast above them. You can't duck or aim downwards. Other creatures bound around in the air, but often they swoop in low enough that you can't shoot them. Okay, so the game is telling me I should avoid enemies as opposed to dispatching them. That's fine, but enemies have a small chance to drop health. You feel helpless in a lot of situations.

I don't think this is a bad thing - the contrast between beginning-of-the-game Samus and end-of-the-game Samus is very stark. As you collect power-ups, you become an unstoppable killing machine armed with missiles, bombs, beams, and other new capabilities. Personally, I don't have the patience to jog around long hallways and massive vertical chasms relying only on my memory to find spots I have yet to visit. If the first Metroid had a map or a slightly better way to discern one area over another, I'd be singing a much different tune.

Here's the big kicker about the original Metroid. It comes with a huge twist at the end. If you beat the game fast enough, Samus Aran reveals one of the biggest video game secrets of the mid-80's.