Metroid Prime is a testament to the concept of “where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
For the better part of a decade, the idea that a game like Metroid Prime could even exist stretched the imaginations of developers and gamers everywhere.
Could it be done?
A decidedly 2D concept, that of a large, atmospheric map that is gradually unlocked through the accumulation of additional powers acquired via backtracking and exploration, dependent upon tight, precise controls as well as highly specific memorization of not just enemy attack patterns but also more critically of the terrain itself … Metroid just didn’t seem like an easy thing to convert into a 3D space.
Also problematic was that Metroid, as a franchise, had never, not once, ever been a big seller.
We’re talking about a brand that had traditionally been outsold by such glorified tech demos as Pilotwings and Mario Paint (fine experiments in gaming to be sure, but not exactly the first games that roll off the tongue when talking about the greatest or even the most popular video games of all time).
Overwhelming financial incentive to engineer such a difficult switch-up just wasn’t there.
So, thusly, a 3D conversion for Metroid wouldn’t happen for a long time.
Eventually, of course, it did. But by the time Metroid Prime released on the GameCube in the fall of 2002 to glowing reviews, Nintendo had lost its stranglehold on the gaming industry to Sony and the mighty Playstation 2, thereby ensuring that Metroid would, once again, sadly not sell a gazillionty copies.
I think this is important to note, as Metroid, to this day, remains a niche property, appealing to a relatively small audience. This is despite the fact that:
- Metroid games, by and large, are incredibly good. Like almost illogically good?
- Metroid Prime should have been an absolute gold standard, Grade-A system seller.
On that second point, my contention is that Metroid Prime would have had every opportunity to find an entirely different level of success above and beyond the 2.84 million copies it sold had it not been married to a gaming system that consumers just weren’t buying.
Speaking from personal experience as a PS2 owner back in the day, I had little incentive to double-dip and buy a second gaming system. I, like many others, knew there were only so many hours in the day to devote to gaming, and also, I was poorer than dirt.
So … no GameCube for me. The temptation to go against this very sound logic was literally one game: Metroid Prime.
And that just wasn’t enough.
The GameCube, still utterly beloved by generations of Nintendo stans, finished third in sales (21.74 million units sold) during its generation’s heyday, behind the aforementioned Playstation 2 (155 million!), and the new kids on the block, Microsoft and their Xbox (24 million).
Xbox’s system seller was Halo, a game that very much deserves its flowers (while the Playstation 2 had too many “system sellers” to even count – that system’s library is insane!).
But Halo – to this day a monster of a property for Microsoft (perhaps its most important) with over 81 millions copies sold – was simply no Metroid Prime.
Was Halo excellent?
Yes. (It’ll absolutely make an appearance on this countdown at some point.)
Was Halo revelatory?
No. Not quite.
So … why didn’t Metroid Prime take off in quite the same way?
Well, we noted it being chained to a comparatively unpopular system, but beyond that, the game itself was a quieter, more thoughtful affair. “Cerebral” isn’t usually one of the first characteristics one might list when noting what mass audiences crave.
Nintendo as a brand was also no longer seen as cool or edgy in the GameCube era. Having hemorrhaged developers during the N64 days due to an odd commitment to cartridges (a commitment they dumped a generation later), Nintendo WAS at least trying interesting things with its main properties. Zelda was now a cell-shaded cartoon. Mario was wandering around a tropical resort with a water cannon on his back. Luigi had his own game, and it was very much unlike a traditional Mario platformer. Heck, even Mario Kart had a gimmick.
But some of those creative decisions alienated long-time fans while simultaneously failing to court new users. At best, some of that generation’s games might be characterized as colorful diversions (Luigi’s Mansion). At worst, they could be called actual missteps (Mario Sunshine).
But regardless, it felt like Nintendo was throwing things against a wall to see what would stick.
And it was within that type of environment, with spaghetti dripping down the walls, that they handed the keys to Metroid over to a subsidiary, Retro Studios, to take on an unenviable task:
Make Metroid 3D.
They succeeded brilliantly.
Metroid Prime at a glance:
Genre: First-Person Action-Adventure
Released: 2002
Platform: GameCube
No. 10 in Nintendo Power’s “Top 200 Nintendo Games Ever”
For the completely uninitiated, and as alluded to above, the Metroid series is one that is contextualized around the concept of exploration. The main character is a woman (no small thing, even today) named Samus Aran, who is dropped into an alien world crawling with creepy critters trying to kill her, and is then charged with not only clearing this co-occupied space of some of the worst of said baddies, but also, more importantly, in finding her way out.
While not entirely defenseless at the outset, she is stripped of her most powerful attacks and abilities, which are hidden about within the game (as are the capacity to increase her health, recharge her health, and even save the game), necessitating further exploration above and beyond the basic “find your way out of this maze” motivation.
Some of these abilities are absolutely necessary to complete the game.
For example, you might encounter a door that doesn’t open without a particular weapon that provides access. You now have to find that weapon to get that door to open. There are a ton of examples of this sort of thing, and again, the idea is to get the gamer to explore the environment.
That said, some of this stuff is absolutely unnecessary, yet compelling all the same.
How?
Think of it this way: Is it better to get caught in a time loop of replaying difficult sections over and over and over again … OR … would you rather “level up” with a nifty weapon or additional health/missiles that makes the experience much smoother and much less of an invitation to pull out all of your hair?
Since I don’t have any hair left, I’m taking Option B.
Much like my hairline, the Metroid series has never been what one might call prolific, with the original (somewhat limited) game releasing in 1986, the GameBoy sequel (which is surprisingly great) coming out in 1991, and then the almost universally well-regarded Super Metroid hitting the market in 1994.
This countdown included Super Metroid up at a lofty No. 8, and I wouldn’t adjust that ranking in retrospect, nor would I change much of what I wrote about the game at the time. It’s a brilliant game.
But it took an additional eight years for Nintendo to finally follow Super Metroid up, which they did with the co-release of Metroid Prime and the GameBoy Advance exclusive Metroid Fusion in 2002.
While Fusion was a straight-line sequel to the other Metroid games that featured the traditional 2D approach, Metroid Prime was (and still is) unique, an odd duck of a game. Prime did fascinating new things with the first-person shooter genre, melding it together with Metroid’s explorer-platforming roots to birth a completely different experience.
Most first-person shooters, like the aforementioned Halo, continue to focus their energies on creating a thrill-ride of sorts. The idea is to have a bunch of things coming at you all at once, for you to blow them all up, and then for you to move along to the next wave of baddies to detonate.*
* With the older, more boiled down games like Doom or Quake, this is basically all that you get. More advanced games like Halo and Half-Life are much more robust than this basic gameplay concept, as they do a wonderful job of adding different gameplay modes and tell a more engaging story … but the point remains that the basic gist is still centered around blowing stuff up.
Metroid Prime takes a more deliberate approach, encouraging the player to stop and smell the roses. Indeed, a great deal of appreciating Prime boils down to playing it and letting its immersive world wash over you fully.
I’d venture to say that Prime is one of the most engaging games a person can play, perhaps only short of donning a VR headset with all of those wacky attachments meant to augment the experience. In this case, you don’t need a slew of random clunky equipment … you only need the game itself.
A lot of what makes the game as immersive as it is are the details. Bird critters chirping at you and flying past. Annoying insect-like creatures taking a swipe at you. Lava that will boil you alive. A genuine sense of gravity. Rain. snow. A visor that fogs up on occasion.
I mean, this is stuff that a lot of developers, even today, don’t bother to include or try to get right, ostensibly because it seems hard to do. So, it’s noteworthy that it’s here, in a game that was released 20 years ago … and it truly makes a difference in the overall experience.
The other side of what makes this feel like a real, breathing universe is the type of game it is.
Metroid Prime, like its 2D cousins, is built around the idea of exploration.
One of the clever ways it does this is by introducing a scanning function, which offers the opportunity to document the things you encounter (and reward you with a better ending), but it also reveals hints about the environment to the player. So, by scanning an area, you might learn that a wall can be blown up with one of your weapons. Or, by scanning an enemy, you might learn how to defeat them.
It’s integrated into the entire game, and each scan necessitates you pause to look around, initiate the scan, and then wait for the results to come in.
This is mostly a satisfying experience. It can be tough to always remember to do it, and there are times a threatening beast is charging at you that you’d (much) rather open fire on than scan the thing first, but the system basically works the way it is supposed to. There are multiple rewards for you doing scans, so you do them. And in doing so, you end up slowing down and observing the beauty around you a whole lot more.
So … by design, the game needs to live and breathe in a way other 3D games don’t.
But let’s circle back to the whole “scanning a wall to figure out you can blow it up” thing, because that’s no small point. Yes, there are certain obstacles and abilities that pair together in a natural, intuitive way, that allow for Metroid to exist in a 3D environment (think high cliffs and a double jump ability, for example, or the previously mentioned “locked door with special weapon” scenario). But Retro Studios also managed to keep certain parts of the game locked away through this very concept of scanning, and it was an important piece of the puzzle for making this style of game work in 3D.
“This wall can maybe be blown up.”
“That looks like an area you can fit into in Morph Ball form.”
“This area is poison; don’t do it.”
The scans explicitly tell you what might and might not work, removing stupid guesswork from poor design. Even in the vaguer moments like that last example, this system encourages you to find a solution and circle back later.
The game is fair with you in that way. The scanning and slower pace feel justified.
Prime’s top-tier atmosphere and the rewards of exploration make this slow pacing into something palatable. And those things matter. But what truly makes the slow pacing actually brilliant is the series’ roots in horror.
Metroid has been unshy about taking its inspiration from some of the greats in the horror film pantheon, most specifically and directly the “Alien” movies.
You don’t have to squint hard to see the similarities.
But as most aficionados of the genre know, there are steps to be taken to utilize horror to its fullest. And the biggest and best tool for any storyteller to lean on is the idea of suspense.
Sparsely populated environments, like those seen in Prime, are conducive to feelings of isolation and paranoia. They make the jump scares that much more effective.
And those jump scares here are most definitely effective, with waves of disturbing, fear-inducing creatures coming at you at the most inopportune moments.
The first-person immersion here only intensifies the sensation. It makes things more cinematic – bigger and bolder – but also more intimate. You feel like it’s you in the middle of the chaos.
You can see why all of these decisions have been made. There’s a logic to it.
A first-person perspective, as opposed to what Nintendo did with Mario and Zelda with their third-person viewpoints, inevitably leads to worse hazard avoidance or hit detection.
If you can see yourself on screen, you can better avoid enemies or a fall into a death pit (something a Mario or Zelda player will appreciate very much).
But those things aren’t really the point with Metroid in the same way they would be with a more action-oriented game. Metroid is more concerned with the cinematic nature of drawing you into its story. The atmosphere, of feeling like you’re actually IN the game, gives you the experience of feeling like you’re in a foreign environment, on your own, having to use your wits to survive.
It succeeds at that in a major way.
The story elements here ratchet things up further. Partly due to you working your way through a society that has been wiped out by some unseen force, where there are other antagonistic participants trying to achieve your same objectives, there is an ever-present, almost vague sense of being manipulated or controlled … which is of course what you, the gamer, are doing yourself by guiding Samus through the game.
It’s a very meta concept, but honestly, this is what the main thrust of the game is, that you feel affected by what you’re seeing on screen; that you are unsettled and ultimately thrilled by it.
Thankfully, it doesn’t go overboard. The game is well balanced, and it gives you every chance to have success. Metroid Prime ultimately dumps you into a scary, aggressive world – a highly memorable place – but it also provides you a roadmap for getting through it. This sense of fairness is what makes the whole thing not only bearable, but also extremely enjoyable.
How did they solve the riddle of making Metroid 3D?
They retained the exploration and horror elements, leaned into immersion, and kept things fair.
The result is one of the best games a person can play.
So what makes it worth playing today?
Prime kick-started an unprecedented era for Metroid in which Nintendo went all-in on the property, releasing seven games over a six-year span from 2004 to 2010. Those titles ran the gamut in both quality and sales success, but eventually the property ran out of some steam.
It wasn’t until 2021’s Switch release of Metroid Dread, a certified banger, that the ship seemed to right itself again.*
* I don’t know that I’ll have occasion to write about Metroid Dread any time soon, so let me just take a moment here to sing its praises. It’s wonderful. Nostalgic purists may deny its overall quality due to their devotion to the superb pacing and world design of earlier efforts like Super and Fusion, but that’s ultimately a fool’s errand. Dread, a return to Metroid’s 2D roots, is a slightly different game than those classics … but that’s okay! It is still 100% outstanding.
Dread helped pave the way for a Switch re-release of Prime, called “Metroid Prime Remastered,” which landed earlier this year. The remaster, which offered up the option of playing with modern controls (much welcomed) and retouched visuals (also much welcomed), quickly sold a million copies and is now the definitive way to experience the game.
Funnily, we’ve gone full circle, back to the starting point of Metroid’s greatest period of success. And we’re doing it with a wonderful, fresh coat of paint.
But even if you don’t have access to the remaster, Metroid Prime, as a representative of an interesting period in Nintendo’s history, as a unique blending of two different kinds of games, and also as simply a stellar gaming experience in its own right, is a must-play game.
2D Metroid will give you more precision and more “a-ha!” moments of discovery. But what you lose in those aspects with Metroid Prime you more than gain in atmosphere and immersion.
It’s a good trade. And while gun to my head I’m still taking games like Super Metroid or Metroid Dread over this one, the experiences are so distinct, yet familiar, that I have to recommend doing both.
In short, play more Metroid.
Dave’s Score: 10/10
Check out the whole Retro Gaming Essentials list here!
How to play
- Original hardware (GameCube)
- Metroid Prime: Trilogy (Wii)
- Metroid Prime Remastered (Nintendo Switch)