The little train that couldn’t quite.
Back when I first played it as a teenager, I hated The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks. I said that it was the worst Zelda game ever. I said that the train limits your exploration and riding it around is boring.
And it turns out over a decade later I was still right, but now as a wizened sage, I think I was too harsh on it. Like an ounce. Half a pound of Too Harsh.
Spirit Tracks is not the worst Zelda game. It has a whole lot to like about it, maybe even love. But sadly, it also has so, so much going against it.
I want my thoughts on Spirit Tracks to be positive. But there are three fatal flaws that need to be addressed first. Any enjoyment there is to be had with Spirit Tracks is experienced while fully submerged in these fatal flaws. You can’t ignore them, and neither will this review.
The first fatal flaw is the controls. I will not speak too much on them because I already did that during my thoughts on Phantom Hourglass. It’s Bad. Simple as that. Spirit Tracks controls a little bit better than Phantom Hourglass but not enough to be anything but Bad.
The second fatal flaw, something you will thankfully not encounter much, is the instrument interludes. You know how bad it is if it’s a fatal flaw that you don’t encounter often. It’s a crudely formed simulation of playing a flute under the strictest parameters. You will curse Ocarina of Time for ever popularizing fun instrument microgames in Zelda. My advice is to play each note individually and not slur your notes, but even then that hasn’t worked for me every time. It’s bad.
The final fatal flaw, the actual killing blow, is the nature of the game itself. Going from place to place on the train on the titular Spirit Tracks. It’s not enough that it’s pretty slow getting around, or that the tracks are a convoluted nest of paths that you rigidly chug along, no. You are forced to look at the pleasantly rendered New Hyrule and you are denied fully exploring it. The forests and mountains in the distance are set dressing, not a destination.
There’s a lot of talk about linearity in Zelda these days, but I think the focus of that discussion is that there isn’t an open ended objective a lot of the time (it’s mostly Zelda 1 fans wanting to start any dungeon first, which I understand). Most Zelda games have set destinations, but a wide path leading to that destination, full of things to get distracted by. Spirit Tracks isn’t literally the most linear Zelda game (that title goes to Four Swords Adventures), but the lack of a wide path leading to your destination is painfully apparent. The experience of going from one important place to another is literally On Rails. Your only agency is to stop the train and clumsily catch a bunny if you see one. This is the second game to follow The Wind Waker and it ignores the cornerstone of its gameplay. Embarrassing.
Truly, the worst thing about Spirit Tracks is how good it can be despite all of its flaws. There are things about it that I feel would be nice to revisit. It’s no Wind Waker, but there is fun to be had.
Firstly, let’s get it out of the way, the music is excellent. The “Realm Overworld” and “In the Fields” songs are particularly solid bangers that I will never forget. In a game where the kitchen was mostly closed, it’s a blessing that the composers were still out there Cooking.
Secondly, this is the first and only Zelda game where Princess Zelda herself is your companion. She’s a ghost, but she’s with you all the way. And she’s a fun character to have talking all the time, she has a streak of self-centeredness that makes for some mildly funny interactions. This might just be my expectations being so low they’re subterranean after playing Phantom Hourglass but Zelda is good here. Watching her and Link go from strangers to friends over the course of the game is a genuinely nice thing, and watching them brace themselves for their uncertain future, together, is one of my favorite things. She’s also afraid of rats.
Her fear of rats is mechanically important, because when she possesses the invincible suit of armor enemies, the Phantoms, her hulking form will be left paralyzed with fear if she sees even a single rat. It’s cute, I like it. There’s even a pretty good puzzle involving her in the Phantom armor. You don’t have to write the order in which you have to press a switch, it’s automatically a good puzzle in this game.
The only issue with Phantom Zelda is that controlling her has you tracing a path along the floor, and not just outright moving her around like you do with Link (which is already a clumsy affair). It’s a stumble but I’m willing to accept that they made it this way because they wanted to. Maybe it’s to show off how much effort Zelda has to exert to control the armor. I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt because even though they’re going with a dumb stupid control style I don’t like, they’ve got the hang of it this time around. Now that’s some high praise. There’s at least one thing about the game to support that supremely generous theory.
The Sand Wand (which I accidentally called the Sand Rod in the first draft of this review) is maybe my new favorite Zelda tool. It’s not useful 24/7 but it shines like diamonds when there’s sand around, and hey check it out, it actually has synergy with the touch screen. So many of the other items that got their start with button gameplay in older Zelda games can feel like a square block/round hole situation on the touch screen. The boomerang used to be the most useful item but now that it’s tied to stylus gimmicks, it’s so obtuse and clumsy and slow that i rarely use it. The Sand Wand, being made specifically for stylus gimmicks, just works. You scribble all over the sand and pillars of the stuff emerge in an instant. And the puzzles they craft for the sand rod are genuinely clever, especially the boss for the Sand Temple, Skeldritch. Everything involving the Sand Wand is just the right amount of clever to make me be thankful for it.
Before this essay gets too long I want to praise the stamp stations. It’s a great way to emphasize Exploration in the grand scale (finding new locations on the rails) and then the small scale (finding the sometimes hidden stamp station at those locations). The rewards for collecting stamps are solid and fun, but I’ll be corny and say that sometimes the stamp itself is the reward.
There is sadly not all that much left for me to praise about Spirit Tracks. Byrne is a somewhat interesting and Cool character. I like his design well enough, his big Freddy Krueger hand is neat. Him being the muscle for a Demon opened the doors to the “demon era” of Zelda we’re in where seemingly all the evils of the world have a single origin. But this is a discussion for another game.
I have played Spirit Tracks twice and beaten it only once. Every phase of the final boss is a miserable time so if the game had a crumb of replay value, that brushed it off the table. I have not 100%ed Spirit Tracks and will more than likely never 100% it. I do not respect it enough to give it that much of my precious time.
I cannot in good conscience recommend The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks. I now understand and acknowledge the good in it but that good does not outweigh the bad. This game gave me a headache both times I played it and those times were a decade apart. Two of my three favorite things in Spirit Tracks can be experienced with a savvy YouTube search. This game is not for Zelda freaks, it’s for Zelda scholars who play the games academically.
Back when I first played it as a teenager, I hated The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks. I said that it was the worst Zelda game ever. I said that the train limits your exploration and riding it around is boring.
And it turns out over a decade later I was still right, but now as a wizened sage, I think I was too harsh on it. Like an ounce. Half a pound of Too Harsh.
Spirit Tracks is not the worst Zelda game. It has a whole lot to like about it, maybe even love. But sadly, it also has so, so much going against it.
I want my thoughts on Spirit Tracks to be positive. But there are three fatal flaws that need to be addressed first. Any enjoyment there is to be had with Spirit Tracks is experienced while fully submerged in these fatal flaws. You can’t ignore them, and neither will this review.
The first fatal flaw is the controls. I will not speak too much on them because I already did that during my thoughts on Phantom Hourglass. It’s Bad. Simple as that. Spirit Tracks controls a little bit better than Phantom Hourglass but not enough to be anything but Bad.
The second fatal flaw, something you will thankfully not encounter much, is the instrument interludes. You know how bad it is if it’s a fatal flaw that you don’t encounter often. It’s a crudely formed simulation of playing a flute under the strictest parameters. You will curse Ocarina of Time for ever popularizing fun instrument microgames in Zelda. My advice is to play each note individually and not slur your notes, but even then that hasn’t worked for me every time. It’s bad.
The final fatal flaw, the actual killing blow, is the nature of the game itself. Going from place to place on the train on the titular Spirit Tracks. It’s not enough that it’s pretty slow getting around, or that the tracks are a convoluted nest of paths that you rigidly chug along, no. You are forced to look at the pleasantly rendered New Hyrule and you are denied fully exploring it. The forests and mountains in the distance are set dressing, not a destination.
There’s a lot of talk about linearity in Zelda these days, but I think the focus of that discussion is that there isn’t an open ended objective a lot of the time (it’s mostly Zelda 1 fans wanting to start any dungeon first, which I understand). Most Zelda games have set destinations, but a wide path leading to that destination, full of things to get distracted by. Spirit Tracks isn’t literally the most linear Zelda game (that title goes to Four Swords Adventures), but the lack of a wide path leading to your destination is painfully apparent. The experience of going from one important place to another is literally On Rails. Your only agency is to stop the train and clumsily catch a bunny if you see one. This is the second game to follow The Wind Waker and it ignores the cornerstone of its gameplay. Embarrassing.
Truly, the worst thing about Spirit Tracks is how good it can be despite all of its flaws. There are things about it that I feel would be nice to revisit. It’s no Wind Waker, but there is fun to be had.
Firstly, let’s get it out of the way, the music is excellent. The “Realm Overworld” and “In the Fields” songs are particularly solid bangers that I will never forget. In a game where the kitchen was mostly closed, it’s a blessing that the composers were still out there Cooking.
Secondly, this is the first and only Zelda game where Princess Zelda herself is your companion. She’s a ghost, but she’s with you all the way. And she’s a fun character to have talking all the time, she has a streak of self-centeredness that makes for some mildly funny interactions. This might just be my expectations being so low they’re subterranean after playing Phantom Hourglass but Zelda is good here. Watching her and Link go from strangers to friends over the course of the game is a genuinely nice thing, and watching them brace themselves for their uncertain future, together, is one of my favorite things. She’s also afraid of rats.
Her fear of rats is mechanically important, because when she possesses the invincible suit of armor enemies, the Phantoms, her hulking form will be left paralyzed with fear if she sees even a single rat. It’s cute, I like it. There’s even a pretty good puzzle involving her in the Phantom armor. You don’t have to write the order in which you have to press a switch, it’s automatically a good puzzle in this game.
The only issue with Phantom Zelda is that controlling her has you tracing a path along the floor, and not just outright moving her around like you do with Link (which is already a clumsy affair). It’s a stumble but I’m willing to accept that they made it this way because they wanted to. Maybe it’s to show off how much effort Zelda has to exert to control the armor. I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt because even though they’re going with a dumb stupid control style I don’t like, they’ve got the hang of it this time around. Now that’s some high praise. There’s at least one thing about the game to support that supremely generous theory.
The Sand Wand (which I accidentally called the Sand Rod in the first draft of this review) is maybe my new favorite Zelda tool. It’s not useful 24/7 but it shines like diamonds when there’s sand around, and hey check it out, it actually has synergy with the touch screen. So many of the other items that got their start with button gameplay in older Zelda games can feel like a square block/round hole situation on the touch screen. The boomerang used to be the most useful item but now that it’s tied to stylus gimmicks, it’s so obtuse and clumsy and slow that i rarely use it. The Sand Wand, being made specifically for stylus gimmicks, just works. You scribble all over the sand and pillars of the stuff emerge in an instant. And the puzzles they craft for the sand rod are genuinely clever, especially the boss for the Sand Temple, Skeldritch. Everything involving the Sand Wand is just the right amount of clever to make me be thankful for it.
Before this essay gets too long I want to praise the stamp stations. It’s a great way to emphasize Exploration in the grand scale (finding new locations on the rails) and then the small scale (finding the sometimes hidden stamp station at those locations). The rewards for collecting stamps are solid and fun, but I’ll be corny and say that sometimes the stamp itself is the reward.
There is sadly not all that much left for me to praise about Spirit Tracks. Byrne is a somewhat interesting and Cool character. I like his design well enough, his big Freddy Krueger hand is neat. Him being the muscle for a Demon opened the doors to the “demon era” of Zelda we’re in where seemingly all the evils of the world have a single origin. But this is a discussion for another game.
I have played Spirit Tracks twice and beaten it only once. Every phase of the final boss is a miserable time so if the game had a crumb of replay value, that brushed it off the table. I have not 100%ed Spirit Tracks and will more than likely never 100% it. I do not respect it enough to give it that much of my precious time.
I cannot in good conscience recommend The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks. I now understand and acknowledge the good in it but that good does not outweigh the bad. This game gave me a headache both times I played it and those times were a decade apart. Two of my three favorite things in Spirit Tracks can be experienced with a savvy YouTube search. This game is not for Zelda freaks, it’s for Zelda scholars who play the games academically.