Super Metroid (SNES) review "Death and okay let's do this."

I remember the day I learned Samus was female. It was pretty cool. “Just” pretty cool? Do you even know Flessa? Dragonriders of Pern? What we call “strong female leads” were just another protagonist to us jaded, hardened science fiction and fantasy readers. At the tender age of twelve, I had a clear view of gender equality, and you’re darn straight that’s an issue.

If there’s something Japan has done right over the years, it’s to give female characters central stage in their popular (and not so popular) media. Granted, there are numerous questions of exploitation, but Nintendo doesn’t play up Samus’ sexuality. At least, not on the Super Nintendo. What’s so Super about a Metroid anyway?

In 1995, I really didn’t understand what made the game so wonderful, but hindsight tells me that it was the story that made it stand tall above its competitors. The Genesis was faster, and the Turbo Graphix had more...something. Whatever it had, we didn’t get much of it in North America. While NEC was busy churning out piecemeal first-party titles, Nintendo put their collective energy toward a memorable experience.

The lesson that Nintendo learned from Super Mario was that personality sells, something Sega would learn a decade later. Initially, Samus was envisioned as a space-faring Bounty Hunter in an epic setting. Unfortunately, Metroid on the NES didn’t quite reach me; all of those corridors were indistinguishable to my young, impatient self; I died much too easily, and I had no idea there were upgrades of any description. Filled With Determination(TM), Nintendo gave Samus another mission, this time with the sensibilities of a thoroughly modern console.

Undoubtedly, we can thank Alien (and others) for the cinematic touches that sold Samus’ story. When I fired Super Metroid up, I was greeted with a screen of carnage. Death was presented on the ground floor, and immediately, my curiosity peaked. What is that little thing squeaking at me in a jar? Who are those scientists? What happened here? Then I hit start and was reminded this is a game. “Have no fear,” I’m told, “you’re in control. You decide what happens next. Just start with those button mappings, and we’ll take it from there.”

Ah yes. The good stuff. Now that’s empowering. When I pressed start again after muddling through what the controls meant, the little helmeted head turned and looked at me. Its details like this drew me into Samus’ reality. Fortunately, Nintendo had more tricks up its sleeve. Voice acting. Just two sentences basically blew my young mind. But, yeah, the galaxy is at peace. So what?

Then, a partially lit red armoured woman opens her eyes behind a visor. There’s no voice acting this time, but I was captivated by the pretty art (and pretty eyes) as she recounts her encounters with the space pirates on planet SR388. It’s here she tells me that she’s adopted this vampiric alien tyke, which she leaves in the trusting hands of scientists...who promise to use it for the good of the entire galaxy.

There's no way it's that simple, and it turns out my suspicion is correct. Things get tense: Samus tells us she’s gotten a distress call, and she’s going to check things out personally. Aw yeah! It’s my time to play. I only think now that Samus isn’t introduced with fanfare as she was in Metroid. I’m too involved in exploring this inert, vacant space station, whining with the sounds of electrical and hydraulic equipment. I press the buttons and figure out what she can do, then I eagerly explore the station. Every door is welcoming, but tension increases as I reach the lab and find the corpses of the scientists entrusted with the Metroid. But where is the Metroid?

There’s only one door left, so I send her unwittingly through a door to find the Metroid and a green dragon-looking monster. He’s got the Metroid, so we fight. I’m not winning, but before Ridley can land a critical blow, the station’s alarms go off. Ridley escapes with the Metroid, and I desperately run back to the station entrance. Once I’ve made my escape, Samus gives Ridley chase to Zebes. She lands her ship, and the rest is left to me. Me, alone, on a planet to explore. Can I defeat the Space Pirates and save the Metroid?

Sure, I can, if I have enough patience to listen to that theme every time I collect a missile tank, armour upgrade or anything else. Gah. There’s no wondering why it was reduced to a quick “swoosh” in Metroid Fusion. The franchise has had numerous improvements (and setbacks) over its thirty-year run. But while I was immersed in Samus’ reality as presented by the SNES, her long stride and power suit promised capabilities and adventure still felt awesome.

There’s another thing Metroid helped me cultivate: Patience. Yes. If you remember the tall, horizontal shaft with all those small blue platforms, you’ll also remember just how difficult they were to traverse with Samus’ unusual jumping mechanic. A standing jump works as expected, but a jump with any forward momentum at all sends her into a rapid somersault that can send you spinning right to the bottom of the shaft. The trick is to master the standing jump and gain control of Samus’ jumping physics. Now, how’s that for a tutorial?

When you’ve got a planet to explore with no guide – and I recommend playing it without one – every enemy encounter is a threat, and some are genuinely harrowing. Death is pure recklessness and can come quickly if you’re not cautious. Nintendo was playing the revenge tactic card well before Valve began slinging helicopters at us. Obtaining the plasma beam was practically revelatory and something to revel in. They succeeded in making those hard-won suit upgrades matter. It wasn't all perfection, though: The morph ball jump is now an automatic upgrade in later games because the thing was so easy to miss in Super Metroid.

Nintendo had done all the hard work of selling you a mission with its own questions that let your imagination do the work. Its storytelling was evocative, but you’re doing all the heavy lifting. This is your and Samus’ fight at the same time. By collecting suit parts and upgrades that unlock large sections of the map to explore, you’re answering the questions you formed during the movie-style introduction. You aren’t told what to do; you arrive at those conclusions of your own volition, and thereby, the mission is your own.

The Japanese publisher’s ability to make a game so intensely personal is what continues to sell underpowered gaming platforms. When all bets are on framerate and high definition this and that, Nintendo backs the right horse: Storytelling. Also, creativity and fun. A story that resonates with its players elevates it above any platform shortcomings, creating something you want to share with others. Even if you risk copyright takedown notices during the process.

Super Metroid is a timeless classic, and with its pixel art aesthetic, it looks and plays every bit as good now as it did then. Modern conventions would necessitate some changes, but apart from a shorter item acquisition theme, this masterpiece is a testament to excellence in all categories of game design. It is a reference guide, a study of talent and skill.

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Community review by hastypixels (September 07, 2017) Wisdom comes from effort and mistakes.