Last night I made this thread with only two sentences in the OP, and I was indeed drunk GAFfing. HARDCORE. I am sorry lords of GAF. However being sober now, I did have a point, and I really would like to try and get it across better if allowed. A lot of people in the thread seemed like they would've like that too, so here it goes...
Metroid Prime's intro, (and the entire game for that matter), very clearly shows you what video games are capable of as a medium. What they should be, and what they are. How they can be expressed in a way that simply can't be replicated in other forms and why that's important.
When starting at Frigate Orpheon, you immediately have a choice. You can walk forward and figure out how this video game is played, or you can just look. Look around you. Look at this center and ponder what the fuck has gone wrong inside. Look at the debris in space and realize that you are extremely far from home. Scan a few things on your own time, and learn a little bit more on why those switches are so red and need to be shot. Instantaneously, Prime shows you that video games are about you in a world, and how you interact with that world. Nothing tells you where you should go or what you should do, and nothing funnels you in a specific direction besides the path itself.
The path itself even, besides a few corridors, intentionally strays from being too cramped. At the very beginning, all you really need to do is go forward, but the paths are large, expansive. Massive chunks of metal in space. You can wander to the edge of one and look out into it, or continue straight without caring.
Once you get inside, once again the objective is to go forward, but the rooms open into massive laboratories. Stories do not stop and force you to listen, they are being told right in front of you. Space Pirates struggling to cling on to their last bit of life but still shooting at you, showcasing their deep desire to destroy you at all cost as you put them down (or not). Elevators are slanted and not working properly. The remains of specimens that you've never seen lie dead in massive containers.
You keep progressing, and eventually a small scene is shown showing some small creatures running into a tunnel. The game has just explained the morphball funtion and hidden paths in to you, an once you get inside and realize there is a save point in there, the game has also shown you why hidden paths are so important in this game and should always be looked for. The game just told you all of that, without really telling you anything. Something that if done correctly, only video games can do.
Then you find the Parasite Queen, and a battle ensues. The fight consists of the Queen screaming energy beams at you from inside of a giant test tube. The tube has barriers, and will block some of your shots if timed incorrectly. Missiles and charge shots are the most effective here, but you only have limited amounts of missiles. Thus the game shows you how important it is to use your missiles wisely, as one or two misplaced shots (especially to a new player that has not gotten used to the charge shot functions yet), could leave you in an uphill battle.
After the Parisite Queen is defeated, you must evacuate immediately. The plant is going to explode, and while the game gives you plenty of time to escape, the balls to the fucking wall music and events that take place which I'm about to go into, will always shoot that intense sense of urgency into your viens. You begin to run, an everything has changed. Devices that were once working now are not. Electricity is shooting out of the walls. Certain devices now need alternate forms of power. Once again, the game is telling you story in ways that only video games can, and showing you that the Parasite Queen was being used as a type of power source.
You continue to run, and you see a group of Space Pirates all putting everything they've got into firing at another parasite. You realize while these guys are scum bags and will still kill you any chance they get, in that moment your enemy is the same, and there is slight bit of almost compassion you feel as the parasite's chamber explodes and takes them with it. But then you see another Space Pirate walking at you, and you know what you have to do. Without thinking for an instant, you put him down and press forward.
Then, Samus looks up, and there he is. Ridley. He expands his wings and with a mighty as fuck roar, he flies upwards leaving destruction in his wake. (Also, for fun, compare Metroid Other M's scene of Samus meeting Ridley to Metroid Prime's directly. Well, maybe not fun, more like nausea.) You know that thing is fucking crazy and probably needs to be stopped, even if you've never played a Metroid game before. You use your grappling hook to pass over the destruction he has caused in a clever and seemless way of showing you every tool that Samus is going to need in this fight, and go to the elevator to escape when....BAM MY BACK. MY FUCKING BACK. ALL MY POWERS ARE GONE BECAUSE MY FUCKING BACK HURTS SO MUCH.
Yup, ablitease. And while the way your powers are removed is pretty silly, the sense of powerlessness is extra effective in this game. You have just witnessed some horrific and monstrous shit. You are playing a game unlike pretty much anything you've ever played before. And now, you don't even have a charge shot. What are you going to possibly do? What if Ridley is waiting for you the second you get out of the elevator? Prime doesn't just show you abilities and take them away, it brings with it a true sense of dread and helplessness as well. And it earns all of that reaction from the player because of how well this entire intro has been designed as a fucking video game.
The elevator makes it, you book it back to your ship, and you make it. And you know you have an extremely tough fight ahead of you.
Metroid Prime is godlike. Absolutely godlike. I usually play it to completion twice a year, and it's all because this incredible stuff that envelops the intro also envelops the entire game. Not quite as concentrated, but it does. It uses nearly every advantage of being a video game possible at that time, and just refuses to be anything else. And why would it? If used correctly, video games are possibly the most exciting form of entertainment.
I look at most games today, I just feel like they don't strive for those same time of goals. When playing it again last night, I was just thinking games like Destiny. It's endless fucking chatter and bullshit exposition. It's enemies that are always the same way everytime. It's world that, while wonderful to look at, doesn't strive for much more than being a really cool place. Hell, even the Space Pirates that are at death's door at the beginning of Prime are leagues above anythimg Destiny tries to do with their enemies and world even after 100 hours.
I feel that games have not taken advantage of the opportunity that games like Prime has gave them in the right ways or the optimal ways. Only very few have. And it's depressing.
Hopefully that's a little better.
Metroid Prime's intro, (and the entire game for that matter), very clearly shows you what video games are capable of as a medium. What they should be, and what they are. How they can be expressed in a way that simply can't be replicated in other forms and why that's important.
When starting at Frigate Orpheon, you immediately have a choice. You can walk forward and figure out how this video game is played, or you can just look. Look around you. Look at this center and ponder what the fuck has gone wrong inside. Look at the debris in space and realize that you are extremely far from home. Scan a few things on your own time, and learn a little bit more on why those switches are so red and need to be shot. Instantaneously, Prime shows you that video games are about you in a world, and how you interact with that world. Nothing tells you where you should go or what you should do, and nothing funnels you in a specific direction besides the path itself.
The path itself even, besides a few corridors, intentionally strays from being too cramped. At the very beginning, all you really need to do is go forward, but the paths are large, expansive. Massive chunks of metal in space. You can wander to the edge of one and look out into it, or continue straight without caring.
Once you get inside, once again the objective is to go forward, but the rooms open into massive laboratories. Stories do not stop and force you to listen, they are being told right in front of you. Space Pirates struggling to cling on to their last bit of life but still shooting at you, showcasing their deep desire to destroy you at all cost as you put them down (or not). Elevators are slanted and not working properly. The remains of specimens that you've never seen lie dead in massive containers.
You keep progressing, and eventually a small scene is shown showing some small creatures running into a tunnel. The game has just explained the morphball funtion and hidden paths in to you, an once you get inside and realize there is a save point in there, the game has also shown you why hidden paths are so important in this game and should always be looked for. The game just told you all of that, without really telling you anything. Something that if done correctly, only video games can do.
Then you find the Parasite Queen, and a battle ensues. The fight consists of the Queen screaming energy beams at you from inside of a giant test tube. The tube has barriers, and will block some of your shots if timed incorrectly. Missiles and charge shots are the most effective here, but you only have limited amounts of missiles. Thus the game shows you how important it is to use your missiles wisely, as one or two misplaced shots (especially to a new player that has not gotten used to the charge shot functions yet), could leave you in an uphill battle.
After the Parisite Queen is defeated, you must evacuate immediately. The plant is going to explode, and while the game gives you plenty of time to escape, the balls to the fucking wall music and events that take place which I'm about to go into, will always shoot that intense sense of urgency into your viens. You begin to run, an everything has changed. Devices that were once working now are not. Electricity is shooting out of the walls. Certain devices now need alternate forms of power. Once again, the game is telling you story in ways that only video games can, and showing you that the Parasite Queen was being used as a type of power source.
You continue to run, and you see a group of Space Pirates all putting everything they've got into firing at another parasite. You realize while these guys are scum bags and will still kill you any chance they get, in that moment your enemy is the same, and there is slight bit of almost compassion you feel as the parasite's chamber explodes and takes them with it. But then you see another Space Pirate walking at you, and you know what you have to do. Without thinking for an instant, you put him down and press forward.
Then, Samus looks up, and there he is. Ridley. He expands his wings and with a mighty as fuck roar, he flies upwards leaving destruction in his wake. (Also, for fun, compare Metroid Other M's scene of Samus meeting Ridley to Metroid Prime's directly. Well, maybe not fun, more like nausea.) You know that thing is fucking crazy and probably needs to be stopped, even if you've never played a Metroid game before. You use your grappling hook to pass over the destruction he has caused in a clever and seemless way of showing you every tool that Samus is going to need in this fight, and go to the elevator to escape when....BAM MY BACK. MY FUCKING BACK. ALL MY POWERS ARE GONE BECAUSE MY FUCKING BACK HURTS SO MUCH.
Yup, ablitease. And while the way your powers are removed is pretty silly, the sense of powerlessness is extra effective in this game. You have just witnessed some horrific and monstrous shit. You are playing a game unlike pretty much anything you've ever played before. And now, you don't even have a charge shot. What are you going to possibly do? What if Ridley is waiting for you the second you get out of the elevator? Prime doesn't just show you abilities and take them away, it brings with it a true sense of dread and helplessness as well. And it earns all of that reaction from the player because of how well this entire intro has been designed as a fucking video game.
The elevator makes it, you book it back to your ship, and you make it. And you know you have an extremely tough fight ahead of you.
Metroid Prime is godlike. Absolutely godlike. I usually play it to completion twice a year, and it's all because this incredible stuff that envelops the intro also envelops the entire game. Not quite as concentrated, but it does. It uses nearly every advantage of being a video game possible at that time, and just refuses to be anything else. And why would it? If used correctly, video games are possibly the most exciting form of entertainment.
I look at most games today, I just feel like they don't strive for those same time of goals. When playing it again last night, I was just thinking games like Destiny. It's endless fucking chatter and bullshit exposition. It's enemies that are always the same way everytime. It's world that, while wonderful to look at, doesn't strive for much more than being a really cool place. Hell, even the Space Pirates that are at death's door at the beginning of Prime are leagues above anythimg Destiny tries to do with their enemies and world even after 100 hours.
I feel that games have not taken advantage of the opportunity that games like Prime has gave them in the right ways or the optimal ways. Only very few have. And it's depressing.
Hopefully that's a little better.
