Junk Drawer: Kaiju, Rockets and Anime

Let’s dive right in, shall we?

How about Godzilla: King of the Monsters? The sequel to Godzilla? It’s getting trashed by critics, isn’t it? Yeah, that’s surprising me too. I’d act upset, especially considering its trailers, but I’m not.

The lack of solid reception is causing lots of people online frustration. Especially in film circles, where the arguments range from “what’d you expect?” to “you’re complaining about the opposite problem of the previous movie? Make up your mind!” I shouldn’t be shocked here either, but I’m definitely disappointed.

Rotten Tomatoes gets plenty of flak for being an aggregate site. It’s not the “be-all-end-all” for quality, but writing it off because your favourite movie got trashed is petty and immature. (I should know, I used to think that way.) Because critics are entitled to their opinions, regardless of how “snobby”. And it’s time we appreciated that.

I’ve no interest in the film. Not solely because of its reviews, though that’s not helping, but because Godzilla was a fine enough stand-alone movie. Sure, Kong: Skull Island, was technically superior, but that doesn’t mean Godzilla wasn’t still an enjoyable, if flawed, experience. I admired its use of scope and weight to heighten the suspense, and the character work was admirable. It dragged at points too, I’ll admit it, but I walked out feeling somewhat satisfied.

I think part of why Godzilla: King of the Monsters is getting panned, and this is a theory, is that critics have more appreciation for drama, flawed as it may be, than mindless action. You can debate this all you wish, but examine the reviews for Godzilla VS Godzilla: King of the Monsters. The former has mostly-positive, if not mixed, reviews. The latter is getting trashed. I think that speaks for itself.

But seriously, make up your own mind. I’m only so willing to spend money on wildcards each year, but if you enjoy kaiju pulp, then so be it! Enjoy your dumb fun! It’s why I stopped criticizing Mad Max: Fury Road for being vapid, even though I already wrote an entire piece explaining why. (You do you.)

One movie I didn’t expect much from, yet appears to be exceeding all expectations, is Rocketman. I say that as a big biopic fan, yet recognizing that most of what Patrick Willems said holds weight. Musical biopics, or “musiopics”, have refused to innovate for decades. They’ve been formulaic, uninspired dreck that are afraid to get personal with their subjects. If Bohemian Rhapsody’s indication, audiences are starting to pick up on that as well.

That’s why people weren’t so eager for Rocketman initially. But that lack of expectation could be its biggest strength; after all, why overhype something when you don’t think it’ll be good? It’s a waste of time and energy, right? I think so!

I’m actually more excited for Rocketman than Godzilla: King of the Monsters. Like, a lot more excited. I know it sounds strange to say that, but a musical about Elton John sounds pretty cool! And having Taron Edgerton, that kid from Kingsman: The Secret Service who’s proven he can sing, playing the titular character is the cherry on top. Who knew?

That this movie’s getting praised and the kaiju movie’s being trashed shows how unpredictable film really is. You don’t have to like one or the other. You don’t have to like either of them. Or you can like both! But there’s no denying that Rocketman looks to be a fun time.

Also, the serious drama getting better reviews than the over-the-top monster movie blows my mind.

Akira’s that one movie people have been dreading an American remake of. It’s context-specific, taking place in a time that was incredibly relevant to the 80’s, contains Japanese-centric anxieties, and is based on a dense Manga. That it’s been in production hell for decades isn’t helping matters. We’ve seen what happened to Ghost in the Shell, after all.

Perhaps a glimmer of hope is that Taika Waititi’s been given directorial duties. He not only directed Thor: Ragnarok, one of the best Marvel movies, he also knows and understands how to direct stylish blockbusters. There’s a scene in Thor: Ragnarok where Thor fights enemies to “The Immigrant Song”, and it’s one of the best MCU moments ever. Enough said!

While the thought of Waititi directing Akira, which has been slated for a 2021 release, is exciting, I have my worries. For one, it’s a shameless remake. And two, it’s been in production hell forever. If you want proof, Leonardo DiCaprio, now an Oscar winner, was a 20-something nobody and set to star in it back when it was first announced. It’s been a while.

Personally, I think having this movie at all is a mistake. Akira, aside from me considering it slightly-overrated, is incredibly-Japanese. The characters are Japanese, the setting is Japanese, even the underlying themes are Japanese. I don’t know if that translates to an American setting. It’s not like we can’t do original stories around classist societies that aren’t already tied to a Nippon-centric creation, either.

I’m hoping I’m wrong. I’m hoping Waititi and his writers can make this happen properly. I’m also hoping this proves anime-to-Hollywood adaptations can be taken seriously outside of Alita: Battle Angel, and that they help anime be taken seriously. But, most-importantly, I’m hoping the years in production hell are worth it. Because I can only stomach so much disappointment.

That about does it for now. Ponder these three, somewhat-but-not-really related tangents, and I’ll see you all next time.

"Won't Some-WHO-body Please Think of the Children?!"

Picture the following scenario: you’ve purchased a video game you’ve never played before. You boot it up and start playing. After a few minutes, you die because the game’s harder than anticipated. So you try again, and again, and again, until you finish a boss fight. You glance at the time, realize it’s late and promise that you’ll stop soon because you have work tomorrow. However, you’ve already completed something and feel accomplished, so you might as well play a little longer. Sure enough, by the time you’ve beaten the next boss, you realize, with immediate panic, that it’s already 3:00 AM.

I want you to stop picturing now, because this is a reality for many gamers. It’s called a gaming addiction, and according to The WHO, or The World Health Organization, it’s officially been classified as part of the addiction umbrella.

I remember when I first heard about this. I was skeptical; after all, why would something as harmless as video games be an illness? But as I thought it over, it made sense. Especially considering my own experience with addiction.

See, I have Autism. One of the most-common traits of Autism Spectrum Disorder is a laser-focus on anything that fascinates me. While this has its upsides, I put more effort into tasks than most, it also make me lose track of time and my priorities. While in laser-focus, I often don’t eat, drink, sleep, do my chores or even go to the bathroom. The objective is my #1 priority, everything else be damned! I’m aware it’s unhealthy, but I’ll most-likely struggle with it for the rest of my life.

Video games are where this is most-prevalent. Because while movies, TV shows, books and writing require some degree of laser-focus, they’re all mostly passive. Video games, however, are interactive. I have a more active engagement with them, as much of the outcome is determined by me. Factor in how I’m slow with and bad at video games, and that laser-focus mentality can hijack my life.

So yes, I’m addicted to video games. (I’m addicted to other substances too, but that’s for another day.) But while acknowledging I have that addiction is a start, controlling it is really hard. And my brain knows this. I can’t begin to tell you how often I’ve openly “gotten sick” or “been busy” so that I could continue a challenging game. You can call it “hypochondria” or “laziness”, but I call it what it is: addictive behaviour.

And this isn’t uncommon, which is why The WHO was concerned. For one, it’s unhealthy to be that consumed by anything. And two, it can cause de-stability in a person’s life. Given how addiction, like anxiety, depression, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, is a mental health disorder, it should be taken seriously. The key word here being “should”, obviously.

If that’s not enough to convince you, allow me to share a story:

Two years ago, I attended a panel at my local synagogue on addiction in the Jewish community. This panel dealt with how addiction ruins people’s lives, but one of the panelists stood out. He was a psychiatrist, and he explained how video games are like gambling. Ignoring how many games require purchasing extras to finish them, like how gambling addicts spend more to win more, video games also function under similar principles as gambling. The most-common area of overlap is how the two create dopamine rushes when you complete your objectives, be it getting past a tough spot in gaming, or winning a hand in gambling. And when you lose at both, it’s not uncommon to have similar outbursts.

I initially compartmentalized this information; after all, I was more concerned about my other addictions and long-standing, buried trauma from childhood, so why would that be at the top of my list? But when I thought about The WHO classifying gaming addiction as a disease, I realized that it made sense. Because video games, judging by what I pointed out, can be incredibly addictive, and that’s worth addressing. It’s a shame that more people haven’t realized this until now.

I get it: gamers are proud and stubborn. We like to think we’re in control. We also like think we know better than everyone else. Unfortunately, we’re not in control. And, unfortunately, we don’t know better than everyone else.

It’s high-time we acknowledge that our favourite pastime is hurting many of us, and that we should do something. Does this mean “no video games ever”? No! Like candy, a little won’t hurt. But, like candy, too much is unhealthy.

I know that I’m not guiltless, especially given some of the pieces I’ve recently written, so I recognize that this won’t be an easy problem to solve. But we should still try. Because when video games get in the way, there’s a problem. And it needs addressing yesterday.

I think gamers need to suck up their pride and recognize that there’s an addiction epidemic. And it’s one that looks invisible. I know it clashes with our hard-libertarian, laissez-faire outlook on the industry, but not everything can be solved with “let the masses decide”. Because that’s dishonest, unfair to those in need and ignores the problem.

Ultimately, we need to stop treating The WHO like some obnoxious nanny who doesn’t know better. They deserve better than that. I’d even argue that we should trust The WHO more than ourselves, as they’re the experts. They’re the ones with the resources to dedicate to understanding addiction. That doesn’t mean that we can’t still fight for video games to be taken seriously, we should, but with that comes a need for introspection and humility. And that’s what we lack.

In Defence of CGI...

Let’s get the following statements out of the way now:

CGI, or computer-generated imagery, is a tool to tell a story. Like every storytelling tool, it’s best used as a prop in service of it, not directly opposed to it. There are good uses of it, and bad uses of it, and both appear frequently. Sometimes you won’t even know that TV or film has used it, as it’s so ubiquitous with both formats. CGI isn’t good or bad, but a neutral force that goes either way.

Conversely, CGI is incredibly hard to do well. We routinely criticize bad effects, but even bad CGI takes lots of time and effort. I’m no designer, but I can imagine the time and dedication it takes to make even the most-basic CGI. That’s also why, despite not all of it looking good, CGI redesigns are so laborious and time-consuming. If you’ve already dedicated time to a bad effect, why put in the extra hours for a better one?

I’ve recently noticed a trend in pop-culture. It might’ve already existed, but in recent years it’s picked up steam. It seems like CGI effects are being run through the wringer for looking bad, all-the-while obnoxious think-pieces circulate on how bad these effects are. I don’t think the studios are guiltless for rushing out half-baked effects, but it’s also not as simple as calling them “lazy” for not meeting a certain threshold.

Let’s back up: CGI has been an integral part of the film industry for decades. One of its earliest uses was in Star Wars: Ep. IV: A New Hope, where it was shown in a visual demonstrating how the rebels could blow up The Death Star. It’s surprising when you contrast that with how far we’ve come, but CGI was so primitive for the longest time that any uses of it, however small, were considered ground-breaking achievements. It was only in the 90’s, with the advancements in technology, that CGI began to kick-off, and, like anything new and exciting, it was abused for some time.

However, like with any tool, the more that was understood, the less-abused it became. These days, CGI is everywhere, but even the “bad” is lightyears beyond what we originally put up with. That’s because there are teams dedicated to doing it well. So even when it’s subpar, you can still see effort put into it.

Which leads me back to the complaint about CGI looking “bad”. As I said, CGI is really hard to do well. So much time and effort goes into every frame that, often, mistakes creep in. Especially under the hellish timetables that animators deal with.

I’d hate being an animator in Hollywood. Not only do you animate effects, you also have to animate backdrops and character models. And, sometimes, you even have to match your character models to the performances of actors. It’s tiring, tedious and incredibly expensive. It’s not unreasonable for tentpole releases to cost tens of millions of dollars, and CGI is a big part of why. If you don’t believe me, stay through the credits and skim the VFX section. Chances are that section alone will list half of the people who worked on the film.

Essentially, CGI isn’t easy or cheap. Which is why the claims of “bad CGI” feel naïve or misguided. It’s especially bad when those spouting the claims don’t work in Hollywood, and, therefore, don’t appreciate what goes into making these effects. Simply saying “it looks fake” isn’t enough when you don’t understand what went into making it. And constantly demanding that VFX artists “do better” is insulting when the complainers can’t do better themselves.

It also reeks of entitlement to claim that a CGI animation team “didn’t care”, which is something I’ve also heard a lot of. VFX people work exceptionally hard. They care a great deal about what they do, even if it’s not obvious. And given the constant reports of exhaustion and overwork that’ve surfaced, many of them probably care too much. All you need to do is read about the complications surrounding Sausage Party and Life of Pi.

I’m not saying bad CGI can’t exist. I see a lot of it. But that’s less the fault of animators and more the fault of studio executives forcing unrealistic expectations. Because that’s usually how bad CGI comes about. And when it does come about, that’s usually who isn’t blamed for it happening.

I’m also not saying CGI can’t date itself. It can, especially when it takes risks. But even when it does date itself, that can be overlooked if the story is engaging. Filmmaking’s made up of multiple components and isn’t an exact science. If we can still enjoy the train fight in Spider-Man 2 despite its video game-esque CGI, then who’s to say we can’t enjoy bad CGI?

But even with the aforementioned, constantly complaining about bad CGI is the wrong route to take. Instead of cherry-picking the bad examples, we should be praising the good ones. We should be lauding Avatar for innovating motion-capture (regardless of how good or bad its writing is), and we should be praising Star Wars: Rogue One for its facial “skin grafting” (even if it doesn’t entirely work). Those techniques actually advance CGI, flaws and all.

We also should count our blessings that so much CGI these days is seamlessly constructed, to the point of being near-invisible. So much of what we watch is CGI, but we don’t notice because it’s so well-integrated. It’s only once we stop and pay attention that the cracks in the illusion start forming, and even then not all of them are noticeable. Because for every example of “bad” CGI, there’s always an example or two of “great CGI” that’s never discussed. And I think that’s more important and praiseworthy than the cherry-picked examples online think-pieces like deconstructing.

Ultimately, we need to stop complaining about laziness whenever a bad effect is shown. If you don’t like people shamelessly ripping apart something you slaved over, then you should offer that same level of respect to animators.

The Omerisms-Skyward High!

I’m not really a Zelda fan. The games are solid, but I find myself equally as frustrated as I am enthralled. The franchise also falls into trappings that, for better or worse, makes me wish it innovated beyond the basic aesthetics and gameplay mechanics. Yet here I am, capping off my mini-series with a piece on The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. Either I’m crazy, or I’m dedicated.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword has a shaky history within the Zelda franchise. Like every 3D Zelda game post-1998, it was criticized for “not living up to OoT”. It also took flak for its E3 promise of “being a Zelda game for everyone”, as that ended up not being true. Nevertheless, I’d already started moving on from gaming to movies by 2011, so I skipped over the game entirely. I’m still debating if I made the right decision.

The most-obvious sticking point is its visual presentation. Zelda games generally have a unique imprint, but this one is a weird beast on its own. It looks like a supped-up version of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, except with colour and no bloom. Both games use the same engine, yet it exaggerates the texture blurring in the background. Not that I care too much, it’s pleasing to the eye, but it’s worth mentioning.

Also worth mentioning is the overworld. I’ve never been a fan of 3D Zelda overworlds, save The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, because they’re barren and boring to traverse. The overworlds are a wasted opportunity; after all, why create massive spaces with nothing in them? It doesn’t add anything, and wouldn’t an enemy or two help with immersion? I think so!

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword solves this problem by scaling down the overworld. There are only three or four places that need exploring, and they’re connected via an overworld hub you fly around in. Some people take issue with this, but it doesn’t bother me given my aforementioned complaint. Also, it’s an interesting take on a tired Zelda trope.

As for the regions, there are three that you routinely visit: Faron Woods, Eldin Volcano and Lanayru Mines. Each of these is distinct: Faron Woods is a forest with an ancient temple, Eldin Volcano is a volcano with hordes of enemies and secret passageways, and Lanayru Mines is a sprawling desert with time traveling. Each of these gets its share of exploration, and later objectives shake them up to keep them from getting boring. I never thought that a Zelda game would ape Banjo-Kazooie, Metal Gear Solid and Tomb Raider for its later missions, but here we are! And they’re easily the best parts!

The last point of note is the game’s score. Fans have criticized this game for not using a live orchestra, especially since the Mario games on the Wii went that route, but it’s never bothered me. Zelda games don’t need a live symphony to have memorable music, they need to have a composer who cares. Given how even the weaker Zelda entries still had great OSTs, isn’t that enough? Not everything needs to reinvent the wheel!

If it sounds like I’m being way too nice, it’s because I want to cover the aspects that I feel are unfairly chastised. Zelda fans love to squabble over trivialities like this, so a fair defence is in order. Fortunately, I have lots to complain about. And it starts with the motion controls.

To be clear, this is a minor complaint. I love the Wiimote and its motion controls, but I was never a fan of their sensitivity. It didn’t help that Wii Motion+ constantly needed to be recalibrated whenever it went awry. This happened more often than I’d like, and the recalibration process took longer than it needed to. The number of times I had to recalibrate the controller because it didn’t register properly, only to then have to go through that instructional window, was enough to make me go mad. Thankfully, it’s not a deal-breaker.

What’s more of a deal-breaker is how dated the franchise formula is. Many of the Zelda trappings make a return: constant backtracking, a companion who tells you information you already know, puzzles that lean on franchise history, boss fights that are repetitive, a final boss that’s frustrating if you lack a specific item, and several opportunities to get lost. I was chained to an online walkthrough, a few YouTube videos and several forum boards during my play-through, and yet I got stuck frequently. I know it might sound laughable, but I’m bad at video games.

I like how this games changes up two of the boss fights by making them sword battles. Unfortunately, they’re with Ghirahim, who’s unfairly cheap and requires exact precision. As someone with Tourette’s Syndrome who makes the same mistakes frequently, Ghirahim was never fun (neither was The Demise, but at least it was easier to hit him.) Each time I beat him, it was by accident, which isn’t a compliment.

Speaking of unflattering, why are the shields in this game so fragile? They break unbelievably fast, and they’re expensive to fix. And given how the best shield in the game, The Hylian Shield, is an optional side-quest most gamers wouldn’t complete, that feels dirty and unfair. I don’t get it.

Additionally, the harp, which you acquire halfway in, is under-utilized. Ignoring how the tears trials are tedious, you barely use it beyond those trials and the occasional easter egg. Much like bug catching, it’s not a productive use of the gimmick. Even Wolf Link’s howling in The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess was better-utilized, and that game also had tear-like challenges!

There are other, little details I’m not fond of, like how running and climbing have stamina metres, but it’s all par for a Zelda game by now. For everything that I hated, there was something I adored. For every adherence to formula, there was a deviation. It’s like the franchise is simultaneously too scared to innovate, yet too quick to redefine its mechanics with each entry. The end result, when coupled with this game being lengthy, is a mishmash of brilliant, awful and okay, all-in-one.

I get why fans were let-down by the “a Zelda game for everyone” philosophy…to an extent. The franchise is divisive in general, so I see the disappointment. But making a “beginner’s Zelda game” was a good choice. Because while I’m not in-love with it, I do feel like The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword was made for me. I don’t know if it’s my favourite entry, or if I’d call it a masterpiece (what entry is?), but I had fun with the nearly 60 hours I spent playing it. And you can’t beat that, right?

(All said, Okami is still the best Zelda game. Fight me.)

That wraps up The Omerisms. Thanks for sticking with me these past 5 weeks-it’s been fun-and I’ll see you next time for something more typical.

Nostalgia, or "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Mario"

I recently got accepted as a freelance writer for Nintendo Enthusiast. It’s been an interesting experience so far, allowing me to expand my network and communicate with people I’d never talk to. But it’s also given me some ideas for blog entries, and this one’s no exception. I figured that I’d discuss it eventually, given that I first wrote about my childhood gaming experience on ScrewAttack 10 years ago.

My introduction to video games goes back to my early childhood. My cousin’s grandmother owned a cottage several hours north, and every Summer my family would be invited. The cottage screamed mid-, but the one area that was relatively modern was the kitchen TV huddled in the corner. Plugged in was an NES, with a small-but-memorable library of NES games. As expected, that console got a lot of use.

One game in particular stood out, though: Super Mario Bros. 3. I had no idea what its real name was, I was 4, but I’d always ask to play “the game with Captain Raccoon in it”. Captain Raccoon was a reference to Tanooki Mario, but the nick-name stuck with me. I’d constantly take turns playing the game with Captain Raccoon in it, though my turn kept ending quickly because, surprise, I was really bad at it.

Mario was my introduction to video games, in other words. I’d later be introduced to Sonic as well, but Mario was my first true love, so-to-speak. I learned the basic mechanics of gaming with Super Mario Bros. 3, grasping the layout of the NES’s 5-button controller through trial-and-error. I didn’t matter that I kept getting Game Overs ridiculously fast, because I was enjoying myself.

Imagine my shock when, a few years later, I was over at a neighbour’s house and saw a Nintendo 64 in their living room. I had no idea what this was at the time, but, being 6, I was intrigued. The console was flat and top-loaded, not like the NES. And the controller, with had three prongs, was fascinating. But what caught my attention most was the game my neighbour was playing: Super Mario 64. It looked like an interactive movie, and it might as well have been! Everything was clear, crisp and incredibly detailed, with polygonal-rendered environments and characters. I didn’t realize that my neighbour had already 100% cleared the game, so when he beat Bowser and we were greeted to an ending montage, it further confirmed my theory:

Mario, that plucky character I’d known as Captain Raccoon, had done it again! He not only introduced me to gaming, he also introduced me to 3D gaming. He’d shown me how much a video game experience meant. As someone who didn’t have many friends, even at age of 6, Mario also became my first real friend. I realize how depressing that sounds now, but it was true.

Super Mario 64 would remain my unofficial-official best friend for the next 6 years. I’d quickly become familiar with the N64’s library, including Mario Kart 64 and GoldenEye 007, but nothing could replace my attachment to Super Mario 64. There was something undoubtedly simple and pure about the game, and nothing could replace that. Or no one, as I’d soon learn from the arguments I’d have over it.

The attachment I had for Super Mario 64 came to an end in 2002, when Super Mario Sunshine released for the GameCube. It was a game on a new console, and 12 year-old me gobbled it up. Yet while I was enjoying the game, I was subconsciously thinking about Super Mario 64. I longed for that experience again, even though the ship had sailed. Call it naïve, but I was a naïve kid.

It wasn’t until 2007, when I received a Wii as a Chanukkah gift, that I downloaded and played Super Mario 64 once more. Unfortunately, time hadn’t been kind. It was the same game, the same Mario, the same, epic adventure, but it also wasn’t. Something felt…off. Perhaps it was the camera, or the glitching, or even the primal level designs, but it wasn’t the Super Mario 64 I remembered, and that upset me.

I guess the nostalgia bug was responsible. It wasn’t Super Mario 64 I loved, it was my childhood experience of Super Mario 64. It was the joy and ecstasy of experiencing the game for the first time. That youthful feeling was now gone, never to be regained. I was heartbroken, but I’d rather a video game hurt me than a real person. At least a video game can’t be held responsible.

Perhaps it was unfair to want to relive my childhood. I was already 17, nearing the end of high school. Teenaged me couldn’t be that 6 year-old boy again, it wasn’t possible. So while I held on fondly to my memories, memories I’ll always be grateful for, perhaps it was best that I let my childhood fondness for Super Mario 64 go. I still hold that Super Mario 64 is a decent platformer, but, to quote my grandfather, “You can gain back your virginity once you’ve lost it”.

Nevertheless, the Captain Raccoon moniker stayed. That much is for certain.

The Omerisms-Battle of the Marios

There are many arguments in gaming that’ve persisted: is Diddy Kong Racing better than Mario Kart 64? Was Sonic Adventure 2 a good game? Cartridges or discs? And what was the last, great classic console? But the one argument I think holds the most weight personally is if Super Mario Bros. 3 or Super Mario World is the best, traditional Mario platformer.

I should note now that I played through the GBA ports of both games, due to their lenient save features. So if I reference them constantly, you’ll know why.

Courtesy of spooieVAULT.

Courtesy of bennettbuzz.

I also want to get this out of the way: despite both games having great commercials, see above, if we’re talking strictly advertising, then it’s no contest: Super Mario Bros. 3 had a tie-in film called The Wizard, so it wins by a long-shot. But this isn’t about that.

Story:

VS

The set-ups for these games aren’t taking home any trophies: what’s the story of Super Mario Bros. 3? Bowser kidnapped Princess Peach and turned the 7 rulers of The Mushroom Kingdom into animals. What’s the story of Super Mario World? Bowser took over Dinosaur Island, trapped the Yoshis in various castles and kidnapped Princess Peach. When it comes to a Mario narrative, if you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all. And no sequence reshuffling will change that.

If I had to give the win to one game, it’d be Super Mario World. Not because it has the more uniquely-written story, because it doesn’t. And not because it’s deeper, because it isn’t. It gains the upper-hand for having a distinct setting. It also, unlike Super Mario Bros. 3, doesn’t repeat its bosses 7 times.

Winner:

Controls and Gameplay:

VS

Both games, or the versions I played, control similarly: the D-Pad allows Mario or Luigi to move left, right, up or down. A allows them to jump. B is the run button. Start pauses the game. So on, so forth.

There are unique features to each of the games’ controls. If you hold B and move left or right with the D-Pad in Super Mario Bros. 3, then Mario or Luigi’s P-meter will fill up and they’ll run faster. This is helpful because running’s required for many of the obstacles. You also have the option, while in the overworld, of selecting items with the L or R triggers. I’ve used these buttons so frequently that I actually wore out my DS Lite’s triggers, forcing me to replace the handheld.

In Super Mario World, you can use a spare item in-level by pressing Select. Like the L or R triggers in Super Mario Bros. 3, this is incredibly-useful. I can’t begin to tell you how much I also abused it, nearly straining my thumb in the process. I also like how it’s a more readily-available feature than Super Mario Bros. 3 overworld items.

Super Mario World’s overworld and visual mechanics were clearly lifted from Super Mario Bros. 3. In that sense it’s not as revolutionary, but that doesn’t mean it’s not impressive. Whereas Super Mario Bros. 3 has a board map with slight non-linearity, Super Mario World has an expanded overworld with textures, pre-rendered transitions and full non-linearity. The game mostly progresses straight-forwardly, but there are occasional detours and secret passages. Sometimes, you’re even forced to replay a level to unlock a secret route, encouraging game longevity.

If I have any complaints with Super Mario World’s gameplay, it’s that its learning-curve’s incredibly shallow. The game, once you get down to it, is pretty easy compared to Super Mario Bros. 3, especially when playing through it your first time. I had much more of a challenge playing Super Mario Bros. 3, especially with all the near-frustrating deaths from enemies I never could’ve seen coming. Super Mario World, honestly, feels like a response to the other game’s difficulty, except it lowers the challenge too much. It’s not a complete cakewalk, but even still.

That said, Super Mario World does have advantages over its predecessor. This was the first Mario platformer to feature in-level checkpoints. In Super Mario Bros. 3, when you die, you have to restart the level. If it weren’t for the GBA port featuring a save option, it’d be a nightmare to beat. With Super Mario World, this isn’t an issue, as you can return to your last checkpoint.

Additionally, you’re no longer required to charge up a P-meter to run or fly. This was always tricky in Super Mario Bros. 3 to master: I routinely would charge my Tanooki suit, finally have enough P-meter power to fly and-oops-bump into an enemy I didn’t see and lose the suit altogether. In Super Mario World, all you need to do to fly with a cape is wait until your character runs fast enough that his arms are wide-open.

Super Mario World’s also the debut of Yoshi. Yoshi’s pretty ubiquitous with the Mario franchise now, but in 1991 he was a new phenomenon. And Nintendo promoted him like no tomorrow, with Yoshi being playable in many of the in-game levels. He also, unsurprisingly, makes the game that much easier.

Finally, Super Mario World has more variety in its bosses. In Super Mario Bros. 3, every boss and mini-boss was the same: jump on the enemy’s head three times, all-the-while avoiding getting hit by them. It was repetitive and predictable, even though the game tried mixing it up every-so-often. The one exception was Bowser, who had you constantly avoiding his fireballs while simultaneously making him plummet to his doom. Riveting, no?

Super Mario World shakes it up a lot. Bowser and his Koopalings make a return, but each one is unique and interesting. Bowser actually puts up quite the fight, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I finally beat him after decades of failure. And there are also those stone rhinos, who are unique to this game, as well, with many of their fortresses being optional.

This should be an easy win for Super Mario World; after all, its levels, bosses, inclusion of Yoshi and gameplay are all rich and diverse! But while Super Mario Bros. 3 is simpler, mostly due to technical limitations, it’s also more fun and memorable with its level design and locations (more on that later). It might be cheating, but Super Mario Bros. 3 gets the point.

Winner:

Aesthetic:

VS

Super Mario Bros. 3, being more-limited, makes each world different thematically, ranging from a dessert, to inter-connected pipes, to even a world consisting of clouds. The overworld also has a board game-like feel, which was probably intentional. This might be somewhat archaic now, given what newer Mario games are capable of, but it was unique for a Mario game in 1990. Doubly-so when you factor in that this was on NES hardware.

Super Mario World has a distinctly-connected theme amidst its vastly different worlds: dinosaurs. Because the game takes place on Dinosaur Island, everything about it, right down to its overworld, is old and rough. There’s a Jurassic Park feel to it, like you’re exploring it for the first time. And the running motif’s consistent.

Sadly, this inter-connectedness is also a drawback. Everything’s connected, true, but the original designs in Super Mario Bros. 3 made them so memorable and special. It was like playing the lottery: you never knew what to expect. One level could be grassy, the next a side-scroller in the clouds. And often in the same world!

Unfortunately, this variety does come with drawbacks. Namely that, when it comes down to it, the in-game levels are ridiculously-short. They might be blisteringly hard, but they can be completed in less than a minute if you memorize them. Super Mario World’s levels, while more thematically-repetitive, are longer and have more in them, making them more fun to explore. Plus, many of them are unlockables, adding incentive to revisit those that you’ve already beaten.

I’m giving this to Super Mario World for one reason: it has more to offer. Yes, Super Mario Bros. 3 has more interesting worlds. Yes, it also has more varied worlds. But Super Mario World, despite looking similar, has more levels to play and more options to visit. It feels like the bigger game, essentially.

Winner:

Sound:

VS

Super Mario World, on the outset, appears like it should be the winner here: it has better sound. It has an instantly-hummable jingle. And said jingle repeats constantly, making it incredibly-memorable. Surely this is no contest, right? Well…no.

Think about like this: so Super Mario World has an instantly-hummable and memorable jingle? What else does it have? Not much. It might be unfair to pick on one of the most-famous Mario tunes ever, but it remixes itself in some form with every bloody level. Like, to the point of annoyance.

This is where Super Mario Bros. 3 has the advantage: its sound chip’s more limited, but it takes better-advantage of that. It’s not the same tune over and over, there are actual motifs that feel distinct. This is something I wish Super Mario World had more of, instead of only in the overworld. Super Mario Bros. 3 wins.

Winner:

Overall Appeal:

VS

Now we get to the underlying question: which do I prefer? Super Mario Bros. 3, or Super Mario World?

Both are supremely well-made games that push the technical limits of their hardware. In the case of Super Mario Bros. 3, here’s a game on an aging console that proves the NES still has life. With Super Mario World, it’s an excellent launch title. Both are amazing, but in terms of surpassing limitations, Super Mario Bros. 3 is far more-impressive.

That being said, Super Mario World has something its predecessor lacks: length and options. It’s a longer game with more non-linearity, and it starts the trend of Mario collectibles. There’s more here to keep you occupied for longer, so it should edge out. And if we’re going by strict impulse alone, it would.

However, I’m giving the final point to Super Mario Bros. 3. Why? Because while it’s not as fleshed-out in design, it’s also much more to the point. Plus, and I have to be strictly honest, I’m not a fan of collectibles. They feel like a cheap way to pad length, and I’m rarely, if ever, tempted to gather them. Super Mario Bros. 3 is an example of “what you see is what you get”, and I mean that in the best way. I’m in no hurry to replay Super Mario World, while I could easily see myself replaying Super Mario Bros. 3.

Overall Winner:

That was ridiculously hard to write! Thanks for sticking it out, and I’ll see you in my conclusion to The Omerisms.