i think this game changed how i think about video games forever. you have to understand what it was like playing this shit as a young child who had gotten his opinions on video games exclusively from gaming youtubers, who thought mario games were the pinnacle of interactive fiction and that he, Super Mario, was Mr Video Game himself. it was like if you fed a victorian child one of those flaky sugar cookies that would send a diabetic into cardiac arrest. this was insane, man. never been so captivated by each individual facet of a game, the world and level design, the music, the atmosphere, FUCK, the atmosphere ... i don't think there is any video game environment i love as much as early crateria with the low pitched choir and bit crushed thunder in the background. to have a game just throw you into the frying pan like that was so alien to me. i'm not going around looking for stars or anything i'm just ... exploring. i don't even know what i'm doing. sometimes i find something hidden in a room and it lets me move onto the next area. i don't know what these golden statues are but sometimes i fight bosses that look like one of them. everything was just so modular and segmented enough for it to click for me. some people call Super Metroid a guide game but I disagree. I think it was wholly the developers' intention to have you spend so much time running around Zebes. lord knows i did. maybe like seven, eight laps around the map before I figured out what to do. is this supposed to be boring? because even as a kid who was probably way outside of this game's target audience, whose main source of entertainment was watching youtubers with coloured hair play shitty unity horror games, i did not find it dull. it wasn't always "fun", but it was something else. but games are supposed to be fun, right? else why would i bother? that's what reggie said. that's what all the skit reviewers parrot. what's going on here?

when i finished this it was like my entire world was flipped upside down. like holy shit, game design. this is actually a thing. at first i thought i liked this. then the more i thought about it i liked it even more. then i realized i loved it. nowadays i would probably consider this to be my single favourite video game ever. everytime i play a new metroid or just a metroidvania i'm general i'm always like "yeah, this is great, but i don't think it tops super metroid for me". but i don't think anything ever will. and you know what? it's okay to be worse than super metroid. greatest of all time.

The vibes? Checked
Exploration? Completely intuitive
Boss battles? Incredible
Storytelling? Perfectly subtle
Controls? Great and expressive when you get used to them

10/10

THE LAST METROID IS IN CAPTIVITY
THE GALAXY IS AT PEACE

I very much doubt that I'm the first person to start a Super Metroid review with that quote, but it's a great set up. Not only does it introduce two facts about this world that are about to smash out the containment unit, and shoot right out the fucking window, but it does so in a technical marvel of an introductory sequence, showcasing techniques you didn't even imagine your SNES was capable of. At that moment, you realise that you have no idea what this game is going to be. You dive into the unknown.

You land on Zebes. Sky filled with lightning. You head inside the first cave and travel deeper underground. Strange alien bugs in the foreground, scuttling out of frame as soon as they pan in. SNES transparency clouds obscuring the ominous platforms. You soon find yourself back in the opening area from Metroid 1, taking small comfort in the familiarity, but there's now security cameras tracking your movement. Something else has been here.

I sometimes get asked which game I play. These are the folk who just play CoD or FIFA, and the concept of being generally interested in games has never even entered their imagination as a possibility. I should just tell them "Super Metroid", though. Because it's all Super Metroid. Metal Gear, Half-Life, Resident Evil, Zelda, ICO... just different flavours of the same thing. And that core concept - exploring intimidating locations, gaining abilities, and progressing on the back of your own ingenuity and dexterity - is so rich here. I don't think it's ever been this pure. Though the game's much more manageable with modern convenience like portability and save states, it's really begging to be played on a SNES connected to a 4:3 CRT; the phosphorescence glowing through those monitors on the title screen. Some of the most striking experiences in the game are in those moments where you're weighing up the unknown threat that's lurking ahead against your willingness to travel back to a save point. You think you've played Super Metroid on your fucking telephone? Get real. You want to play this alone in a little square room. Draw the curtains and close that fucking door.

Super Metroid is far more intimidating without save states. You're denying yourself so much by leaning on them. Erase that option and you immediately feel the danger. The game's full of narrow corridors and shafts, but see when you enter an open area on your last bar of health? You feel so fucking vulnerable. And those save points? They don't regenerate health or ammunition. Welcome to the world of survival horror.

You frequently enter areas with no idea how you'll get back. Dropping down huge pits or walking through instant-locking doors that can only be opened from one side. Dread and regret. This is the sensation of exploration without precedent. You don't know if someone can survive here. If you've gone too far. Sure, this is a Nintendo Video Game, but it's unlike anything you'd typically associate with that. Thanks to the open-ended design and single save slot, you can utterly fuck yourself here. Venturing into locations that you're not equipped for, and effectively trapping yourself there. It happened to me, this time. I went to Maridia without the Gravity Suit, and saved mid-way. It threatened my entire playthrough, and I had to drag myself out of there with a very precise sequence of six well-placed wall-jumps (if you've never played Super Metroid before, you have no idea how much harder this is than your post-Mario Sunshine reference points would have you believe). It was a miserable experience, but I gained a respect for the threat the game held if I wasn't careful enough in how I explored. They never allow this kind of dynamic in commercial software any more. These are colours that game designers have stopped painting with. We've all become fat and entitled. Super Metroid is your grandfather's formative camping trip as a SNES cartridge.

The sound design in this game is unbelievable. The second you enter Norfair, you feel like you've just walked into hell. The suffocating, rhythmic beeping as you view the pause screen, reinforcing the omnipresence of utilitarian space tech. The strange organic, bubbling noises as you approach Mother Brain. The SNES's audio was a big feature of the console, but its sample support was primarily used to create a suite of synthesisers. Super Metroid prioritises ambience and atmosphere over toe-tappers, and there's a great deal of attention poured into the strange sounds of Zebes.

Something that I think is lost on the later games is that areas in Super Metroid are frequently unspectacular. Boring, drab, flat. That's a feature. There's no less effort in selecting the colours of these pixels than the ones that comprise Samus's heroic Gunship. Super Metroid feels like digging your way through abandoned space caves, until you stumble on something especially strange or ceremonial, and the contrast is striking. Super Metroid is happy to get weird. The b-plot is about getting your revenge on the purple pterodactyl that killed your parents. Of course he has his own demon temple.

A lot gets made of the game's fussy controls. I make a lot of the game's fussy controls. Playing on the SNES shook off a lot of my modern sensibilities, though, and I only counted one time in the game where a wall-jump is mandatory. If you're a big pissy pants, you can use a guide to make sure you never wade too far in the deep end of the game. But past the opening hour, the game didn't feel half as daunting as I'd feared. Only one boss took me more than two attempts, and that can likely be blamed on how little time I'd spent searching for optional upgrades until then. I didn't have to push myself to enjoy this experience. I was cursing how much of this approach has been lost in modern game design.

I just love being inside these kinds of games. Where you're becoming more intimately familiar with the larger map each time you play, and still thinking about it when you're away from it. I went right from NSO Zero Mission to original hardware Super, and I didn't trust myself to stick around until the ending, but I never wanted to let go. I think I'm good now, though. I'm pretty sure Mother Brain blew up properly this time. I think I'm ready to back to games that aren't a different shade of Super Metroid again. Why should I fucking bother, though?

metroid and its sequel were both ambitious games marked by how adventurous they were, but fell short due to console limitations. both games are barren landscapes, with the former suffering from it, causing frustration, and the latter benefitting from it. in many ways, super metroid is what both of its predecessors wished to be, and combines the best parts of both to make its mark.

one of the greatest improvements super metroid makes is the map (FINALLY), which assists greatly in navigating zebes' many different sections. there's still no true hand-holding here, though, as i distinctly remember being pissed off thinking i softlocked myself the very first night i booted the game up. that's the beauty of super metroid, though; you are never truly lost. there's always new areas to explore and think of ways through. when i got here, i thought i was stuck because i had entered norfair far too soon. yet, some simple exploration taught me that i was far from stuck, and the path i took was one of many viable ones.

i could seriously gush about this game for hours. it is an enduring classic that drives the player to explore every little nook and cranny, because every area has it's true purpose. there's heart in the gameplay, the story is at its peak thus far, and i've never been more excited to play the next game in the series. spectacular.

now did i STILL use a guide to get the last 20 or so upgrades i was missing just so that i could check off for mastery? possibly. but some of those rocket placements were bullshit and i won't be convinced otherwise