Sure, there are aspects of Zero Mission I'd take ever so slightly over their Super counterparts, namely slight tweaks to the control scheme's shortcuts and some basic quality-of-life updates to the map system... but man, even if I've called Zero Mission my favorite Metroid for a long time there really is just no topping Super on most other levels this series operates on.

The soundtrack is one of the most impressive aspects of this game - it may not be the first game to do ambient and almost new age-ish music the way it does, but Super Metroid has such a distinct sound within the Super Nintendo's library that it's beyond impressive. Tracks like "Upper Brinstar", "Maridia - Swamp Caverns". and "Tourian" are pretty singular within the realm of 16-bit music, and you'd need to look to something like EarthBound to find sounds operating on the same level of experimentation within the console's library.

These sounds compliment a well-established atmosphere that's been discussed to death elsewhere, but for good reason. Super Metroid often toes the line from adventure game into action-thriller, and even horror thanks to its mood, colors, sprite artwork, and direction. One of the best things Super Metroid does with its color language is break its own rules, and early on: where much of the game paints Planet Zebes in naturalistic greens, browns, reds and greys, some of the areas depicted that the player should recognize on cue from the original Metroid title retain their spacey blues and blacks. Mother Brain's lair is kept more or less intact from its 8-bit depiction. Indeed, this leans into the minimal but effective story too - you really don't get the full weight of Super Metroid and all the impressions it sets to leave without the full trilogy under your belt.

Samus' arsenal is at some of its most balanced and effective here. The endgame combo of upgrades feels really fun to use, also I do feel the Screw Attack saw better and less finnicky days down the line on the Game Boy Advance. I'm actually a big fan of the X-ray Scope, except for the few times it doesn't work consistently - a few fake walls in Tourian spring to mind.

Still, for a trailblazer like Super Metroid, it would be excusable should time have worn down its gold sheen into ragged glory, but this isn't the case. I'm not the first nor the hundredth to tell you this, but this game remains one of the all-time greats. The small nitpicks I have here would be more or less cleaned up by the time Fusion and Zero Mission come around, and it should speak to how minimal these complaints are that even after having just replayed the game with my best friend, I'm already getting the itch to land down on Planet Zebes again.

it does seem sort of like a directionless assemblage of vibes at first, but a true dream logic emerges in the second half as elements and scenes start recurring and lighting up regions of the subconscious. the full moon in the fridge and the endless/beginningless ladder make me tense up my tummy for reasons i can't understand. the overflowing rainbow cup minigame (and accompanying text) is aggressively hopeful in a way that's almost too obvious, but then the bizarre closing city sequence rebalances the tone just right. for my tastes, anyway.

actually, by some mildly cruel technocosmic joke, i can't play that second half on my computer. the game positively refuses not to crash right after the flower sequence every single time, so i had to give up and make do with a handful of youtube playthroughs. i am bummed to have only experienced the ending vicariously, not least because i kinda feel like i've broken the developer's directive to "play alone". but at the same time, the fact that i find myself stuck on the other side of an arbitrary barrier from the most magical part of the game sort of makes it take on a personalized extra layer of melancholy. almost hilariously on-the-nose really. so thanks porting kit for sucking ass i guess <3

it's nothing life-changing, but it would be silly to ask that of it. i'm a little different now; that's what matters.

Kojima has done it again.

He seems to be a master of turning obtuse concepts into grounded emotional journeys, where every thread of nonsensical plotting is woven into this massive, cathartic climax that leaves you stripped of any doubts or confusion and wholly fills you with wonder and astonishment. Every plot twist is built upon another plot twist, which is then capped off by an even bigger plot twist after the credits roll. Everything culminates in what can only be described as an ingenious narrative masterpiece.

The game is surprisingly less dense than the previous installments (which isn't really saying much), with its emotional underpinnings given far more weight than expected. It is written with the intent of completely engrossing the player in its world and philosophies. Snake/Jack/John (he gets a new name in the end just because) navigates his way through a Soviet jungle setting in this weird web of government secrets, conspiracies, every type of military intelligence, superhuman psychos, an illuminati-like faction of world leaders, all set during the cold war in 1964, and it is the most glorious thing you can ask for. I keep saying this every time I play an MGS title, but what the actual fuck Kojima? How high was this dude when he made this?

The gameplay itself is by far the most polished and streamlined aspect of this game. Every time I felt like the bosses got too difficult, I had the option of trying 20 different methods of approaching them, each more unhinged than the other. Every piece of equipment and each weapon can be utilised to craft a completely unique experience, to the point where I feel if I showed my gameplay to any hardcore fans, I'd get shunned because of how insanely odd I was with my tactics and logic (and I enjoyed every second of it, mind you).

The game oozes creativity with its utilisation of space and combat/enemy variety, sure, but it's the near limitless combinations and techniques provided to the player that make for a truly remarkable achievement and experience. The game is ground-breaking in general. The addition of crouching makes life so much easier. Hunting for food, a new camera angle, camouflage outfits, tighter focus on direction rather than exposition, and redefining the stealth genre while birthing an entirely new foundation for the survival genre. The story itself is worthy of an essay. It deftly explores a multitude of topics surrounding war and love. The unquestioned patriotism of a soldier, the love of a mother and son tangled up against the odds of fate, the facade of eternal enemies, and the fact that everything is bound to change. 

The concept of "scene" is introduced, which is different from "gene" and "meme" introduced in 1 and 2, respectively. It deals with the idea of cultural relativism in response to ideology and personal doctrines, which it states is heavily influenced by the time and location we live in. "Eternal" is a concept not applicable to ideology, enemies, or allies. They are transitive and change in response to the "times" we live in. This is heavily illustrated in the character of "The Boss," a mentor and maternal figure to Snake, who becomes a victim of circumstance. This theme echoes through all the major characters. "Big Boss," for example, was considered a major antagonist in the previous games, but here he is a patriotic, heroic man. Eva is forced into playing a defect agent and participating in a deadly game of espionage where she falls in love, which ultimately causes heartbreak. Patriotism is also shown to be a relative idea, where one person can be publicly acknowledged, yet the true patriot can have their entire legacy tainted forever. Loyalty is also relative to the "times" where Snake was forced into choosing his own nation over his mentor, until he later decided to abandon it. It wasn't he who chose his loyalty, but the "times."

What a thrill

Everything I've mentioned is just the cherry on top compared to the opening theme. The lyrics are poignant, to say the least. This being my favourite,

I give my life
Not for honor, but for you

The theme has many loaded words. The gravity of them will not be apparent until you finish the game, which is full of these tiny allusions. Of course, lyrics aside, the music itself doesn't hold back.

Oh my god, how can you listen to it without being completely swayed and struck by it? That shit had me FLOORED. Cynthia Harrell's captivating vocals and the weight of the lyrics are some of the best of the best. Listening to it alone was so ethereal, even more so paired with scenes like the infamous ladder scene that sets the tone for the rest of the game and the final fight with The Boss that moves you to shed manly tears. The boot-up credit sequence itself was unskippable. I'll never stop playing it in my head and go

I'M STIIIIIIIIILL IN A DREEEEEEEEAAM SNAKE EATERRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!

Truly one of the greatest games ever made. What the hell Kojima