There’s only one correct way to start off a Metroid review, and that’s with two words: JUSTIN BAILEY. Ah, remember that? It was a password you could input for Samus’ very first adventure, and to our fan-boyish glee, it wasn’t to unlock another aging plump plumber with major "crack" issues no amount of caulking could fix, no. To our surprise it wasn’t a man’s name at all. Samus didn’t look half-bad running around half-naked... that green hair... and the boots...
I’m sorry, where were we?
In all seriousness, I chose to start with arguably the most famous password in all of gaming because it represents Metroid one to a tee. If "Super Metroid" and "Metroid Prime" are the Varia and Power Suits respectively, than Metroid is definitely more of a bailey. And for all of those who failed to listen well in their "19th-Century Swimwear 101" (you know who you are), that means SWIMSUIT. So yeah, I’m basically comparing the highly modular Power Suit to... a one-piece bikini.
"As the starting point, Metroid represents a more bare bones approach to the series’ signature formula."
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Not surprisingly, Metroid represents a more bare bones approach to the series’ formula, as it’s the starting point. Before the charge beam or the dash boots, Samus had her long shot and high jump. Before the combat visor and the save station, there was only an energy bar in the corner and a convoluted password system. While the simplicity is indeed functional and oftentimes nostalgic, it is ultimately where this classic fails. Often times there just isn’t enough information to understand what to do next, coupled with monotonous backtracking and random guessing. What worked to fill our lazy "MacGuyver" childhood nights back then just doesn’t stand up well in today’s gaming world. And shut up... MacGuyver’s cool!
Like all other Metroids that would follow, Samus’ first is a unique blend of platforming, a vast item scavenger hunt and a lot of, "well, now what?" mind-play. The game provides new toys to reach new areas and open up the world further. Unfortunately it’s the frequency with which you’re asking "now what?" that hinders the overall pacing. From the moment our heroine makes her grand entrance at the unexplained elevator things look promising, but from then on it just feels too unexplained.
"From the moment our heroine makes her grand entrance at the unexplained elevator, it just feels too unexplained."
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Unlike later titles, the fact that Samus literally starts with nothing actually makes sense here. Having the player grow and identify with the character was a fantastic ploy to get gamers comfortable with Samus and her world. She begins with nothing but a weak beam but is soon acquainted with her Morph Ball (and the cutest "item-get" theme ever). And from there the ball keeps rolling.
Next, you get bombs, a faster fire rate, even a beam that goes through walls; still just as cool an idea and in execution as it was back then. Several power-ups later, this formula proves quite fun. But it’s right around that mid-point that things start to fall apart. The last items you need are so well hidden and yet so obnoxiously dire to your survival. For some, this problem will likely make the game unbeatable, if not unbearable without them. The items in question are the Varia Suit and the Screw Attack. One gives you double protection and the other lets you plow through foes with a powered version of Samus’ token jump-somersault. Even then there are times where even your hard-earned toys aren’t going to save you.
I had the misfortune of fighting two-hours through the repetitive bubble maze that makes up Ridley’s Lair, only to suddenly fall into an inescapable lava pit that no amount of bomb jumping could get me out of. I could do nothing but watch poor Samus’ energy tanks slowly drain to her untimely end. Whenever you die you begin back at the stage’s start point, which is nothing new to classic gaming, but the fact that your hard-earned energy tanks are completely drained back to a measly "30" is just ridiculous. By that point enemies can drain that "30" in two hits and the only realistic way to refill your reserves is to sit by their hives and consistently kill the little bastards as they come out; picking up 5 to 10 health at a time. When your max health rate is 800... well you can see how this could literally take forever... if you survive it. Don’t blame me if you fall asleep while recharging your hit points. You know what, to avoid any blame whatsoever, maybe you should just avoid this game altogether. It’s not for everyone. I guess it never was.
The steep punishment for losing is worsened further by the difficulty. Frankly, the game is often too hard. Metroid loves to onslaught you with baddies until it induces emulated slowdown and flicker. And it loves to do so right when you’re jumping over a lava pit or a trap that sends you 7 screens down and serves as nothing but to annoy. We’re talking about inconspicuous fake tiles and even fake bosses! These little tricks might seem clever in writing, but in a game world so large and with a difficulty so unforgiving, they’re likely just going to piss you off. Maybe it’s because I’m not 5 anymore and don’t have time for such crap. Actually, that’s exactly what it is.
Metroid is old, and this last time playing, it finally felt like it. It’s truly impressive how massive the world of Zebes was for its day, it’s just a shame it all looks the same, as it seriously affects your ability to navigate. I would say most gamers just wouldn’t GET what’s going on in Metroid. Perhaps we’re too pampered now. Unlike its successors, Metroid doesn’t hold your hand with a talking "hint" system, or even so much as give you a clue. It boils down to razor-sharp observation and annoying trial and error. You have to be at just the right place with just the right power-up in this giant world to advance. That’s a problem when every other room tends to look exactly the same. The fact that the two later beams: "Ice" and "Wave" cannot be in Samus’ inventory simultaneously; yet are located at polar opposites on the map presents another serious problem. Also, there are some serious logistic problems with the pacing and presentation, and areas aren’t well connected, either.
"Superfluous backtracking... painful trial and error on a repetitive landscape -- we used to think this was fun?"
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Superfluous backtracking... painful trial and error set on a repetitive landscape... we used to think this was fun? Oh – don’t get me wrong, it’s still a solid NES title, and can actually be very entertaining. But that fun factor often depends on whether you find – or, more like stumble – upon the Varia Suit and Screw Attack, or any other later item’s weird hiding spot. At first the locations make total sense, but as the game goes on the sense degrades.
As a result, I can’t recommend your $5 for this title, at least not until you’ve first downloaded the near perfect, "Super Metroid" (also available on VC and definitely worth the $8 admission), or played the truly immersive "Prime" series. For veterans there’s a lot of nostalgic value here. The soundtrack is very fitting and memorable. For my money, "Kraid’s Lair" is still one of the most natural tunes in the entirety of Nintendo’s vast sound catalog. The graphics are often quirky; bordering on cheesy and weird, but it’s somehow all in good taste. It’s just we’ve far better games to play nowadays — perhaps this nostalgia is better left in the past. For better or worse the game is completely unchanged here on the Wii, save for the lack of an NES controller, but holding the Wii-mote on its side feels just as good.
If you fondly remember the unrelenting guess-athon the first Samus adventure sported, then maybe a quick romp though Metroid is right up your Chozo-themed corridor. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s not as fun as it once was. It was remade as "Metroid Zero Mission" for the Gameboy Advance anyway; a far more complete and professional version of what this game originally sought to achieve. You can even unlock the original NES version on the cart when completing it if you’re still curious. I just gave you three better Metroids to get started with: why not get to it, and then come back to Metroid one if you’re still itching. And if you’re seriously a masochist, give ol’ "Return of Samus" on the original Game Boy a try too. LOL!
Metroid set the foundation for grander things to come; even Castlevania would later take from it. I will always be grateful for that, but I’m afraid this bare bones skeleton experiment with the formula is really what this particular title will ever amount to, or be remembered for as a game... and yeah maybe for fake bosses and green-haired space hotties, too.
