The 3D Mario titles have a similar illness. They demand the collection of celestial bodies, many of which appear in obvious places or require the player to engage in gameplay gimmicks. And their tone is largely one-dimensional, to the point where the games' joyfulness devolves into smarminess. This is why I don't bow before the innovative Super Mario 64, and why when I revisited Super Mario Galaxy last year, I came away thinking, "How did I ever believe this was all-time great?" (Note: I haven't played Super Mario Sunshine, so perhaps its unusual qualities would impress me.)
Super Mario Odyssey has its fair share of stupidly hidden moons and disposable appeals to nostalgia (e.g., when fully rendered Mario transforms into super pixelated Mario). But there is a wickedness to Odyssey that makes the game more intriguing than its overwhelmingly friendly ancestors.
Cappy, a talking hat, is the most subversive figure of any mainline Mario game (I have to exclude the Mario RPGs because they always mock conventions). He represents corporate branding to the extreme: When Mario hits certain enemies or objects with Cappy, it allows him to possess things like a demon — and mark them with his patented cap and mustache. In previous Mario games, the hero gains powers by acquiring items or suits. Here, he takes away the will and agency of others, manipulating their existence. This dynamic can have disturbing connotations when it involves living creatures, but it makes Super Mario Odyssey a strangely honest game about how three-dimensional space — and everything in it — is here for our exploitation. The weird implications of using Cappy overshadow a lot of that overbearing optimistic tone that grates on my nerves. Cappy outs Nintendo's dark edges. (Fellow critic Andrew Hathaway once compared Odyssey's demented vibes to the trick in Super Mario World where Mario can sacrifice Yoshi in midair to continue platforming.)
Half the fun in Odyssey is finding out what Mario can possess. Some options resemble bizarre gags or asides, like the piece of meat or the man with the remote-controlled car, but actually lead to moons. The most substantial forms enable distinct attacks and modes of travel. While many of the possibilities involve classic Mario foes like Chain Chomps and Bullet Bills, I was drawn more to the unique additions like Spark Pylons and Pokios, the latter of which allow for some of the most compelling platforming in 3D Mario history.
Odyssey has too many limitations and too much bloat to compete with the greatest Mario games (Super Mario Bros., Mario 3, Yoshi's Island). But with Cappy's devilish capabilities and a strange assortment of locations like Metro Kingdom, Luncheon Kingdom, and Lost Kingdom, Odyssey is the most gonzo of all Mario platformers. Indeed, where can the Italian plumber go from here? The other 3D Marios didn't stoke my imagination like this. They merely granted a fleeting sort of happiness.
Super Mario Odyssey has its fair share of stupidly hidden moons and disposable appeals to nostalgia (e.g., when fully rendered Mario transforms into super pixelated Mario). But there is a wickedness to Odyssey that makes the game more intriguing than its overwhelmingly friendly ancestors.
Cappy, a talking hat, is the most subversive figure of any mainline Mario game (I have to exclude the Mario RPGs because they always mock conventions). He represents corporate branding to the extreme: When Mario hits certain enemies or objects with Cappy, it allows him to possess things like a demon — and mark them with his patented cap and mustache. In previous Mario games, the hero gains powers by acquiring items or suits. Here, he takes away the will and agency of others, manipulating their existence. This dynamic can have disturbing connotations when it involves living creatures, but it makes Super Mario Odyssey a strangely honest game about how three-dimensional space — and everything in it — is here for our exploitation. The weird implications of using Cappy overshadow a lot of that overbearing optimistic tone that grates on my nerves. Cappy outs Nintendo's dark edges. (Fellow critic Andrew Hathaway once compared Odyssey's demented vibes to the trick in Super Mario World where Mario can sacrifice Yoshi in midair to continue platforming.)
Half the fun in Odyssey is finding out what Mario can possess. Some options resemble bizarre gags or asides, like the piece of meat or the man with the remote-controlled car, but actually lead to moons. The most substantial forms enable distinct attacks and modes of travel. While many of the possibilities involve classic Mario foes like Chain Chomps and Bullet Bills, I was drawn more to the unique additions like Spark Pylons and Pokios, the latter of which allow for some of the most compelling platforming in 3D Mario history.
Odyssey has too many limitations and too much bloat to compete with the greatest Mario games (Super Mario Bros., Mario 3, Yoshi's Island). But with Cappy's devilish capabilities and a strange assortment of locations like Metro Kingdom, Luncheon Kingdom, and Lost Kingdom, Odyssey is the most gonzo of all Mario platformers. Indeed, where can the Italian plumber go from here? The other 3D Marios didn't stoke my imagination like this. They merely granted a fleeting sort of happiness.
4 Comments
I'll get around to Sunshine soon. Thank you for sharing your take on that.
I also appreciate your perspective on Odyssey. Not every captured thing is a profound experience, but I don't think that was the intent. Some of them do function as keys, but I was still surprised and amused by the sheer amount of situations where the mechanic could be used. When I judge a game, I try to accept its fundamental design goals (unless the goals are reprehensible for whatever reason), and then evaluate how well the game achieved those goals. If we look at games with possession mechanics throughout history, like Geist, they never really took the possession idea that far. The most interesting example I can think of is Light's End (which is no longer available; it lived on the Xbox 360's Live Indie Games platform, which was sadly shut down a few years ago). Light's End was a narrative-focused RPG, and you could possess any character in the game and have unique conversations, etc. In other words, Light's End destroyed the concept of the NPC. Mario Odyssey isn't that radical, but it's also far from lazy with the possession mechanic, especially when you compare its breadth of forms and abilities to action games of the past.
I also appreciate your perspective on Odyssey. Not every captured thing is a profound experience, but I don't think that was the intent. Some of them do function as keys, but I was still surprised and amused by the sheer amount of situations where the mechanic could be used. When I judge a game, I try to accept its fundamental design goals (unless the goals are reprehensible for whatever reason), and then evaluate how well the game achieved those goals. If we look at games with possession mechanics throughout history, like Geist, they never really took the possession idea that far. The most interesting example I can think of is Light's End (which is no longer available; it lived on the Xbox 360's Live Indie Games platform, which was sadly shut down a few years ago). Light's End was a narrative-focused RPG, and you could possess any character in the game and have unique conversations, etc. In other words, Light's End destroyed the concept of the NPC. Mario Odyssey isn't that radical, but it's also far from lazy with the possession mechanic, especially when you compare its breadth of forms and abilities to action games of the past.
Majora's Mask could be another kind of example. You don't "posess" but like in Odyssey you take the role of someone through a curious costume: masks.
I haven't played this game, but you can also posess people in Game Boy's Avenging Spirit.
Oh, that about Light's End sounds interesting...
Btw, I want to say one more thing about Odyssey. Have you ever noticed that in the original SMB the enemies (except the ones from the water levels) reflected a portion of Mario's moveset? Goombas - Small Mario moving slowly; Koopas - Tall Mario moving slowly; Fast Koopa shell - Small Mario running; Piranha Plant - Mario crouching and standing up; Hammer Bros. - Mario Jumping and throwing fire balls; etc. - etc. I consider that Odyssey was kinda a take on that, but this time the other way around, with Mario being the imitator. And beyond that, a posessor.
I haven't played this game, but you can also posess people in Game Boy's Avenging Spirit.
Oh, that about Light's End sounds interesting...
Btw, I want to say one more thing about Odyssey. Have you ever noticed that in the original SMB the enemies (except the ones from the water levels) reflected a portion of Mario's moveset? Goombas - Small Mario moving slowly; Koopas - Tall Mario moving slowly; Fast Koopa shell - Small Mario running; Piranha Plant - Mario crouching and standing up; Hammer Bros. - Mario Jumping and throwing fire balls; etc. - etc. I consider that Odyssey was kinda a take on that, but this time the other way around, with Mario being the imitator. And beyond that, a posessor.
Hi Jed, thanks for this review. Really fascinating perspective on the depths lurking in Super Mario Odyssey, the "darker side" if you will 😂 Would be curious to see your opinions on Hey Pikmin. I found that it cut past Nintendo's cutesy veneer and revealed similarly fascinating ideas under the surface. Would be curious to see you play it and hear your thoughts!
Lot0
10 months ago
If I could summarize summarize briefly what I didn't like about Odyssey is that it's not as imaginative for the player as how to interact with the world, as other mainline Marios.
Remember that there were two trailers before the release? The first without Cappy's abilities and the second with them. One made us wonder, and the second made us comprehend, maybe too much. I get your points about the "why" of this capture mechanic, but the imagination put behind it felt like coudn't match certain expectations, and a bunch of them justo felt like keys to accomplish small things in the end. (I think that a monster capture system, á la Dragon Quest, would have been an interesting thing to see in this Game; or more simple: to invite NPCs or creatures to your flying ship, the Odyssey. Characters sure do like to travel in this game, don't they?)
Tbh I enjoyed this game the most avoiding the capture system the most as far as I could. It's more interesting to make a T-Rex chase you (in an underground forest?!) and make it break things than being the T-Rex and facilitate the process. But that's me. Maybe after reading you I have another insight in the future.