Metroid Marathon: The Beauty Of Bosses (MP1)

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, some of Metroid Prime's bosses and how they are designed to teach players through intensity and strategy.]

The boss battles contained in each Metroid game are one of the franchise’s staples, their challenging but not impossible design sitting as some of the highlights of each installment. Metroid Prime’s bosses are no different and follow the tradition of offering some intensity to the isolated adventures of Samus Aran, not to mention ensuring that the skills learned prior to each battle and the abilities obtained throughout the game are utilized in an effective manner.

Combining organic creatures already native to Tallon IV and those created or influenced by the strong presence of the Space Pirates and their operations, the boss battles in Metroid Prime contrast nicely with the otherwise lonely journey of the game to create its diversity whilst simultaneously also appearing to enhance the game’s narrative, themes and overall outcome. Ranging from mutated (not to mention enlarged) creatures such as the Parasite Queen found on the space frigate Orpheon, to the giant, lumbering beast that is the Omega Space Pirate, each battle and each foe offers something new and distinct from what has been seen previously whilst also continuing the trend of more difficult and menacing foes as the player (and thus, Samus) progresses. What this means overall is three different things: first, the chance to test and master the skills that have been formed over the course of the game; second, moments to look forward to after long sessions of exploration and loneliness; and lastly, a change of pace (and intensity) after slow, gradual progress and enemies that pose little to no problems. It’s about challenge and strategy but not at the expense of progress or the other key elements that make up a Metroid experience, namely the exploration and discovery.

Interesting, too, is the way in which these battles take place -- and, perhaps more importantly, why. Right from the very beginning of the game, as players gently ease themselves into the 3D, foreign feel of a Metroid title viewed from Samus’ own eyes rather than from a side-on perspective, a boss battle exists, designed to teach a skill that will become key later on in the game: that of strafing from left to right (or vice versa) to avoid enemy fire. The battle is simple in that there’s hardly any strategy to defeating the Parasite Queen, with quick, rapid blasts or powered up singular shots from Samus’ beam cannon making quick work of the easy opponent. In fact, the only challenge the battle poses is from a spinning force field that protects the queen, but it has enough holes in it that it’s not a problem -- if there’s no gap, you don’t shoot, simple.

Samus staring Flaahgra down in the first major boss battle of Metroid Prime.

Contrast that with Flaahgra -- the mutated plant boss found in the Chozo Ruins and the source of the poisoned water that posed a small problem in traversing the remnants of a lost civilization -- who does offer a challenge and requires some strategy in order to attack. Not only is strafing important in avoiding Flaahgra’s acid attacks, confidence with locking onto the solar panels that is providing sustenance to the enlarged plant is key to efficient success as, later on in the battle, Flaahgra can knock them back down with one of its many stems. The goal of the fight is to knock the solar panels away so the sun’s rays are no longer providing energy to the plant boss, causing it to collapse with exhaustion and its tentacles to retract, allowing Samus to quickly morph into a ball so she can slip through the tunnels that were previously blocked and let off a morph ball bomb in the mechanical slot -- a technique learned prior to the battle not long after the ability was acquired -- in order to deal damage. Rinse and repeat the process -- a staple of Nintendo’s library of games and certainly not exclusive to the Metroid series -- and before long Flaahgra is down, alleviating the problems of a contaminated area by allowing the water supply of the Chozo Ruins to become clean and pure once more.

Future bosses provide even more complexity and challenge, the Omega Pirate and Metroid Prime itself standing out as the game’s most difficult boss fights, but regardless of whether it’s at the start of the game or at its end, the bosses in Metroid Prime serve a purpose in teaching, using (abilities) and changing (the game's pacing), even if only for a short period of time. They’re fun distractions more than anything else, but the lessons learned in fighting these monsters go on to serve the rest of the game, and in doing so only enhances the experience rather than hinders it. It’s a shame other games can’t get this process right more often, not to mention as elegantly as Metroid Prime does.

Metroid Marathon: The Little Things (MP1)

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, a look at the incidental details in Metroid Prime that are so easy to overlook, but enrich the experience when noticed.] 

If three big moments characterized Metroid Prime’s transition from 2D to 3D for me personally, then it is the little things that form the game’s unique personality, give it its atmosphere and constantly surprises almost wherever you turn. It’s the little things that, when combined as a whole, give Metroid Prime a level of detail that few other games can achieve, and when separated provide a subtle, if even unnoticed, addition to the game’s immersion.

Attention to detail isn’t new in videogames, however, the effort some developers put into their games to create an experience that is unlike any other often being the key contributing factor as to whether the overall product -- the end result of a carefully considered vision or idea -- is successful or not. Games like the Uncharted series, Grand Theft Auto IV and BioShock all take care to include the little details, minor additions that will cooperate and assist major ones in forming a particular point of view, understanding or atmosphere, each enhancing the overall experience rather than detracting from it.

A Sap Sac hanging on the side of a wall.

But Metroid Prime’s attention to detail is, I would argue, a lot more subtle than the aforementioned games -- and it’s worth pointing out that they’re all current generation games, too -- using existing features of the game’s world to enhance the immersion. Rain droplets fall onto Samus Aran’s visor if she looks up towards the sky, whilst other drops splash and bead on her infamous beam cannon. Flamethrowers in the Magmoor Caverns area of Tallon IV -- initially something to be avoided -- can be frozen once the Ice Beam has been acquired, progress beyond them now achievable with relative and quick ease. The electricity of Samus’ Wave Beam pulsates whilst the Ice Beam leaves a tiny, cold fog as she moves her beam cannon around. Juice from a Sap Sac drips once it has exploded, whilst acid from a mindless creature’s attack splashes on Samus’ visor upon impact. Fish gently swim amongst the water, quickly scurrying as Samus draws near; a reflection of Samus Aran’s eyes and face can be seen as a burst of light emanates from a nearby explosion; steam clogs up her visor and limits visibility for a brief period of time. When submerged underwater -- particularly before the acquisition of the Gravity Suit -- movements become slow and subdued, with a pleasing sense of weight and a floaty feel making for a nice contrast to the usually quick, agile movements enjoyed on land; the morph ball’s bomb jump ability also shares a similar feeling of weight and casual buoyancy, bobbing up slowly rather than bouncing immediately as on land. Continuing the underwater theme, it actually feels like you truly are submerged when traversing its many depths, the cold, blue and translucent water stretching out beautifully while the aforementioned movement and the game’s clever use of sound enhances the feeling and ensures its effectiveness. Few other games can achieve this submerged feeling -- BioShock 2 is one of the only other examples that comes to mind -- keeping the immersion high and the game’s unique attention to detail amazing.

Fish scurrying about as Samus approaches.

Enemies also receive this level of attention, with a variety of ways to kill them coming to mind. The environment plays a part, a carefully placed shot on a nearby Sap Sac instantly killing something upon its explosion, whilst an idle defense turret can explode on impact from a missile or be disabled by a few shots of the Wave Beam, collapsing it in confusion. The Space Pirates aren’t immune either, their weaves and dodges of one beam quickly turned around as you freeze them, their bodies crumbling to pieces upon another concussive shot. Even boss battles contain subtle ways in which to attack, allowing for strategies that might not be immediately obvious.

The little things may not be unique to Metroid Prime nor might they be instantly apparent, but they all combine to enhance the game overall and assist with immersion, leaving a tiny but acknowledging smile on the face of those who notice them, and indirectly improving the experience of those who don’t.

Metroid Marathon: Metroid Prime's Magic Moments

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, a look at three moments in Metroid Prime that I believe are pivotal for why it went on to become my most cherished game. ]

One of my favourite things about Metroid Prime is how three particular moments define my personal experience with the game, and demonstrate why I believe the game went on to become so revered. These moments are small in comparison to the majority of the game, but they stand out because of their clever use of subtlety and implied storytelling; their demonstration of just how successful the transition from 2D to 3D actually was; and because of the way in which they compel you to keep on playing through the allure of exploration and discovery. They represent my fondest memories from the game and below I detail why.

Space Frigate Orpheon

As you may have gathered from my previous post, I found the opening segment of Metroid Prime to be quite amazing -- not necessarily for what it does or what it shows (though that is impressive), but because of how quickly it put you into its unique take on the Metroid universe, and how suddenly it allowed you to assume the role of Samus Aran. Practically immediately you enter that first-person perspective and see the world how she sees it, and this small but significant fact is why I think the game begins so well: it doesn’t waste time with exposition or trying to set up the differences between a 3D Metroid and the prior 2D ones but, rather, it puts you in Samus’ shoes so she (and therefore you) can resume her adventure. After all, this is Samus Aran: she doesn’t have the time to waste on easing players into her life or explaining why things continue to go awry; she’s on a mission to do her job as a bounty hunter and it’s up to us to engage with that fact, not the other way around. The whole reason she’s even on Orpheon to begin with is to investigate a distress call, not walk us through some tutorials and demonstrate how the rest of the game will play.

But that’s the beauty of this entire level, too: it does teach us how to play in what is, essentially, intuitively designed tutorials, but we wouldn’t ever know it because as soon as we gain control, we have inhabited the role of Samus Aran. Right from the get go we can move our (emphasis required -- Metroid Prime is a shared experience between Samus and the player) visor around to survey our surroundings, our reward for doing so being the large and beautiful Tallon IV that looms in the distance; a nice close-up of Samus’ gunship if we turn around; and asteroids gently hovering past just begging to be used as target practice. A quick couple of shots from the beam cannon reveals the level of detail we can soon expect to be the norm as they break apart, how efficiently our shots can dispatch whatever we line up in our sights, and how pleasing and simple it is to use our primary weapon. Switch over to the scan visor and we notice the distinct red and orange of objects that can be scanned, the boldness of the former suggesting important points of interest whilst the latter gives us information that might be relevant to our interests and/or objective. Like shooting, scanning is also basic and accessible, and it isn’t long before the force field gates standing in our way -- the first, proper hint at a tutorial -- are dealt with, allowing passage to the only door that provides entrance into the frigate.

Space frigate Orpheon with Tallon IV looming in the background.

All of these things are incredibly small compared to the rest of the game and, indeed, even the opening level -- we haven’t even gotten inside Orpheon, after all -- but they’re significant because of what they do to begin the experience. Straight away we learn about our main methods of engaging with the game, through clever but minor obstacles and subtle cues that entice rather than enforce, and almost instantly we are eased into the adventures ahead and our role as Samus Aran. But while these aspects of the opening segment are for the player’s benefit, we also see Samus approaching these unknown surroundings in the only way that she can: agility and acrobatics as she jumps from her ship and lands on the Orpheon; instant investigation as she scans her environment and starts to discover what is going on; and confidence as she moves past those simple gates, shoots a few asteroids and enters the frigate. She may be alone for most of her journey but within seconds of arriving she has already displayed why she is so effective at her job, and why she has as much respect as she does: put simply, she gets the job done, but does so in a way where she’s the most informed and where she can have the best approach -- nothing more, nothing less.

Tallon IV Overworld

Changing pace from the impressive beginning of the game, landing on Tallon IV for the first time stands out for its beauty, as well as the way in which it sets the tone of the adventure. Metroid Prime is organic, its environments coming across as alien but entirely natural at the same time, and our first visit to the Overworld is, perhaps, the best example of this. Flora dominates the landscape, the Red Starburst and Glowing Spidervine capturing particular attention thanks to their bright and (in the case of the Spidervine) luminescent appearance. There’s also a quaint waterfall and small pond in the vicinity, the latter of which is lined with another type of plant unique to the planet: the Tallon Fern. Combine such gorgeous foliage with the rain that saturates the landscape and beads down the sides of Samus’ beam cannon, and you have an arresting environment that is absolutely foreign and yet, at the same time, totally comforting to us (both as players and as Samus), too, given how natural it all looks. It looks like a wet jungle, feels like a rainforest and lends the game an atmosphere that is not only completely different to what was found on the Orpheon, but is much more relaxing and utterly awe-inspiring. In some ways, it’s even a poignant moment: a chance to catch a breath, take in the view, and contemplate before continuing the adventure -- how many other games offer such opportunities (and so early, too) to their players?

Tallon Ferns in front of a very prominent waterfall.

The wonderful thing about this particular moment, however, is how captivating it is upon reflection. It might be engrossing each and every time you experience it, but even more beautiful is how it stands out in the memory and defines your connection to the game. Its organic nature and relaxed atmosphere correlates with some of Metroid Prime’s core qualities: the ability to inhabit and explore new environments, and to do so at our own pace, not a predetermined one. Its immersion at its finest, then, and something that only increases as you progress and discover the intriguing fauna of the Tallon IV Overworld region, and what they add (and mean) to the planet.

Phendrana Drifts

No post about Metroid Prime’s most significant moments would be complete without a mention of the Phendrana Drifts and, in particular, the first time you get to see them. Many players highlight this moment as one of those true ‘gaming moments’ that seldom appear but always resonate, and I’m not one to disagree: it is one incredible moment -- most certainly my favourite -- and it stands out because of how perfect it really is. Everything about entering the Phendrana Drifts region for the first time is amazing, because of how cohesive it all is. The beautiful snow glistens under the sunlight whilst those gentle piano keys of the level’s wonderful theme tune begin to play. The camera slowly pans out away from Samus to reveal a relatively large room, full of new things to see. Obviously, a snowy area is a complete change from all of the levels that had been experienced thus far -- especially the fiery depths of Magmoor Caverns -- but, more than that, what is visible in these initial moments goes a long way in setting up the region as a whole. Standing tall in front of us are some rocky pillars, a small river winding through them. Atop a cliff reside some destroyed buildings, clearly of Chozo origin considering we have already visited the Chozo Ruins and learned that they once inhabited Tallon IV. Scattering about in the sky, hastily, are some bird-like creatures, whilst over on some ledges we can see some small life-forms crawling about -- new species that we haven’t seen before, and which continue to define and add personality to the planet as a whole. An icy lake also exists here, small fish scurrying around proving to be yet another example of the level of detail that can be found in the game.

Screens don't do it justice; this place is stunning.

By now we’re fairly experienced with playing Metroid Prime and certainly familiar with how to advance, what our objectives are, and how to approach whatever lies before us. This means that the Phendrana ‘moment’ doesn’t last long as we are quick to resume our adventure, but even so that doesn’t take away from its incredible impact -- it is this moment that defines the entire game, for me, and exemplifies why Metroid Prime as a whole is so remarkable and unique: it’s atmospheric thanks to the strong cohesion visually and aurally; it instills a sense of loneliness and even mild melancholy because of the minimal life, ruined structures and subdued tone; and despite the moment stopping us in our tracks, momentarily, it becomes nothing more than a memory as we quickly continue on our journey. Metroid Prime as a game is renowned for its atmosphere, isolation and discipline, and despite being quite a breathtaking, mesmerizing scene, we soon ignore the beauty to focus on the task at hand. Like a holiday snap on vacation it recalls a moment in time that was delightful, but as soon as you look away the impact is gone and things return to normal.

Proof, then, that small things can be just as important as their larger counterparts, if not more so, and that the execution of a moment requires incredible attention to detail. Speaking of which, detail is the subject of my next post, with specific emphasis on the little things that make this game such a delight to play.

Metroid Marathon: Remembering Metroid Prime

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, recounting my initial experience with Metroid Prime, a title that went on to become my most cherished game.]

Do you remember the first time you played Metroid Prime? I do.

Seeing Samus' Sci-Fi epic begin was an amazing moment, her 3D adventure leaving me in absolute awe as I first stepped into her shoes, but not before a marvelous display of her agility as she leapt from her gunship and onto the opening area: the abandoned space frigate Orpheon. Here to investigate a distress signal, assuming control of her was remarkably relaxing. The planet Tallon IV loomed in the distance, its rich blues and bright yellows standing out from an otherwise derelict, almost ruined frigate. Floating above were small chunks of space debris -- asteroids slowly making their way past, a carefully timed shot from Samus' beam cannon breaking them apart, revealing a neat example of the detail that would later be found throughout the game.

Entering the space frigate was eerie, the initially narrow hallways instilling a sense of claustrophobia (exacerbated by the uncertainty of what was to come next -- particularly for someone completely new to the Metroid franchise) that hadn't been felt in any other game prior. Discovering the first signs of disaster was chilling: a carcass of a test specimen lied uncomfortably across the floor, small parasites chewing at its lifeless hide. Scanning the environment revealed that Orpheon's escape pods had all been discharged, their destination somewhere on the planet below, whilst space pirate bodies were strewn across the room, their cause of death varying from the severing of a spinal cord to traumatic blows to the head. Farther into the frigate's desolate ruins was yet another room with a story to tell, this time containing another example of the specimen found before, safely in a state of hibernation, while helpless space pirates attempted to attack. Their last-ditch efforts seeming almost sad as we swiftly put them out of their misery.

Omnipresent humming sounds and sudden explosions as Orpheon's panels started to collapse ensured an atmosphere that was haunting, our isolation as we continued forward causing brief, poignant moments of hesitation yet interminable curiosity as we discovered yet another piece of information about what may have taken place here. The ship's computer systems provide some facts, an experiment with a substance called Phazon and some of Tallon IV's native life appearing to have played a part in the ship's devastation, while pirate logs reveal a hasty retreat, a reaction to the fall of the planet Zebes, and a fear about the possibility that "The Hunter" (clearly Samus Aran) may be following.

Metroid Prime's first boss may be easy, but that doesn't mean she isn't creepy.

Deeper into the frigate, yet more space pirate bodies and debris lay strewn across the barren floors, our wits tested once again as the ship's defense system, some mounted ceiling turrets, attack on sight. After a short elevator ride a cheeky space pirate drops from the ceiling, his attempt to unnerve us with his sudden appearance failing as a few shots lay the final blows to his fragile body. Then we find her, the Parasite Queen, crawling out of a duct and into the ship's reactor. Protected by shields she begins her attack, though the spaces in her defenses provide an easy way for us to fight back, her timely death causing her to fall into the reactor's core, initiating the ship's self-destruct sequence.

The following escape is intense, the frigate's structure collapsing as we run through its ventilation shafts and tunnels. More defense turrets attempt to impede our progress, but a quick scan of their control panels deactivates them and allows us to continue on our way. Farther along we find Meta-Ridley, a cybernetically enhanced and reborn Ridley after his defeat on Zebes, his fleeing an incentive to follow. Tracking his flight pattern, Samus escapes Orpheon and lands on Tallon IV, its heavy rain providing a distinctive change of atmosphere as we look around and see the lush but alien plant life. Attention to detail is rife here, as exploration and scanning starts to peel back the layers of the planet's ecosystem, its flora and fauna's appearance proving to be surprisingly compelling. Raindrops fall gently onto Samus' visor, an impressive technical feat back then, whilst mist hovers above a small pond. Everywhere you look there are neat little details that immediately make Tallon IV a captivating place, and they definitely make for a wondrous change of pace after the creepy, confined spaces of the now destroyed Orpheon. Instantly, a sense of adventure is instilled inside of me as I search my surroundings and learn, along with Samus, just what this foreign planet has in store for me. Preparing for the unknown, I take a moment to take in the beauty before firing off a shot at the nearest door and continuing on with my... no, our adventure.

All of the above happens in the first hour or so of Metroid Prime and, when compared to the rest of the game, it seems almost insignificant. But despite this, I thought it was worth reflecting on these initial moments, recalling the time I (and perhaps you) first experienced what Metroid was like in three dimensions, and when the game's atmosphere, mechanics and wonderfully alien art direction were revealed for the first time. Like Mario and Link's before it, Samus' transition to 3D was a special one, and it is an experience that will stick inside my memory forever. But it's not the only fond memory I have of this game; there are plenty more moments that deserve some attention, too, and I'll discuss those in my next post.

Marking A Milestone With A Marathon

On August 6th, 2011, the Metroid franchise reached an important milestone: it celebrated its 25th anniversary. That’s a significant figure to mark as few other gaming franchises have the power or the credibility to last that long, and fewer still can point towards such incredible games as examples of why such a milestone deserves to be met. In a word, Metroid is phenomenal, and I couldn’t let the birthday pass without marking it in some way here on the blog. The series means a lot to me and is, without a doubt, my favourite videogame franchise out there, even beating the likes of BioShock. Samus Aran represents so much to me, and her impact on my life goes well beyond the iconic status she so elegantly exudes within this medium. Both the franchise and its protagonist are dear to my heart, and it has been an absolute pleasure to see them reach such a wonderful and significant milestone.

So, to Metroid and Samus Aran: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for such wonderful adventures, memories and inspiration over the years. Thank you for delivering me some of my most awe-inspiring and poignant gaming moments, and providing countless hours of entertainment. Thank you for showing to me just how powerful games can be, and how their design can inform not only other titles, but entire franchises and genres as well. Thank you for giving me a constant in an otherwise unpredictable and sometimes harsh medium, and for empowering me through your remarkable spirit, grace, intelligence and beauty. Most of all, thank you for entering my life, and for influencing my future. I will always love you, and you will forever have my eternal respect. Happy Birthday.

On a semi-related and somewhat convenient note, I have recently been playing both the original Metroid Prime, and Metroid Prime 2: Echoes as part of a (very gradual) marathon throughout the entire series. What you might not have known, however, is that I have been preparing a series about the franchise for here on the blog, covering the individual games (well, the ones I have access to, at least) as well as the entire series as a whole. Below is the overview post I was originally going to publish when I had finished every single post that I had in mind; it’s getting published now as a way to celebrate the milestone, and because I’ve made decent progress in recent weeks. I hope you enjoy the overall series and, beyond that, join me in acknowledging how remarkable this 25th anniversary is, as well as how important the franchise as a whole happens to be.

Metroid Marathon Overview

Metroid Prime is one of the best games I have ever played. I thought that the first time I played it, I thought it the twentieth time I finished it, and I think it now as I play it yet again. There’s just something about it that really resonates with me and every time I play it, it reminds me of why I love videogames and why I play them. But it’s not the only Metroid game; practically the entire Metroid series exudes brilliance and, as a franchise, it deserves every ounce of reverence it has received over the years. It might not be as well-known or popular as Mario or Zelda, it might not receive all the hype and praise that other big-name franchises do on rival consoles, but it has earned and continues to enjoy respect -- quite remarkable for a series that, for whatever reason, generally flies under the radar.

The other notable game in the series would have to be Super Metroid on the Super Nintendo. Despite many years and generations since release, that game still holds up superbly today and stands out as a pioneering title. It played a crucial part in forming the sub-genre we now refer to as “Metroidvania” and has influenced countless titles to date -- not all of which utilize the 2D style that the game perfected. Together with Metroid Prime, you have two fantastic games that have done a lot for this industry -- even if only discreetly -- and combine to create a franchise that is a force to be reckoned with.

But, the other games in the series also deserve recognition for their own excellent experiences. Whether you look at the original game that started it all, the two Gameboy Advance iterations or Metroid Prime: Hunters on the DS, you’re almost guaranteed to find a fun, enthralling game that provides its own unique take on the Metroid universe. Samus Aran has barely put a foot wrong on her many adventures and even when she does find herself in trouble, she always finds some way to get out of her unfortunate situations. The best thing though? She always manages to do it in style, taking advantage of neat new weapons or an awesome new ability. Style, grace, agility and finesse: Samus has it all and it makes for some absolutely wonderful gaming.

Precisely, then, why I’ve chosen to undergo a marathon and play every game in the series that I have access to. I’ve enjoyed each game multiple times over the years but I’ve never looked at them with the more analytical, critical eye that I have developed in recent years. I may come across as a fanboy from time to time (can’t help what’s true, right?) but I look forward to viewing the franchise from a new perspective and I hope it allows me to discover some really interesting things. The marathon begins tomorrow with my look at Metroid Prime, and will continue gradually over the coming months as I play through and discuss each game. I hope you enjoy the ride.