Super Mario World is without a doubt, 100%, a stone-cold lock of an essential game – even though upon release, it wasn’t essential for me.
These sorts of distinctions are important in an exercise such as ranking games, because when you’re talking about games that are, for lack of a better term, essentially perfect, and you’re interested in determining an order of some kind, picking the nits and trying to dig for problems can be, well, a little fruitless.
Take Super Mario World as an example. Am I going to sit here at the outset and say it has microscopic faults that definitively prevent it from finishing higher on my list of retro gaming essentials, picking at stupid things like the color palette being slightly different or the gameplay not quite being the same as the previous games, or any other number of dumb, nitpicky things?
Nah, that would be boring.
It would also be dishonest. Super Mario World is universally beloved as one of the greatest platformers of all time, many consider it to be THE best Mario game of all time, and still others think it’s got an argument as the greatest video game of all time, period.
One of the greatest games of all time? And we’re going to try to find faults with THAT?
I fully believe this game to be borderline perfect, and that is the thing we should focus on: why it is so good.
And of course the real reason why I don’t have it higher than No. 23 on my list …
Well, that comes down to my personal story. And so here is my acknowledgement of how this ranking came to be.
Super Mario World
Genre: Side-scrolling platformer
Released: 1991
Platform: SNES
Empire’s greatest game of all-time
I recall very vividly perusing gaming magazines and toy catalogs of the era (circa 1991 or thereabouts) and getting ridiculously excited not only for the brand-spanking new Super Mario World, but also for the system it served as the launch title (and pack-in game) for, the tantalizing Super Nintendo.
I also knew, quite clearly in fact, that there was no way on God’s green Earth my parents would spring for such an extravagance, especially since they had already relented in getting me an NES for my birthday the previous year. Such a purchase had been a MAJOR concession for them (Did any of you watch that movie “8-bit Christmas” with Steve Zahn? That was basically my adolescence in a nutshell for what seemed an intolerable length of time … probably something like a year or two, but that felt like a 20-year prison sentence to tween me).
Anyway, my parents did NOT want to buy me a Nintendo. I was annoyingly persistent enough to eventually encourage them to change their stance – much to my relief and appreciation – but getting them to get me a Super NES barely a year later was a non-starter as a result. I think I was wise enough to not even bother asking. It would have been as fruitless an endeavor as trying to suppress my irrational excitement for the thing.
In addition to this, I was not yet working, barely mowing lawns, and the allowance never seemed to stretch as far as one wanted. So, coming up with the scratch to purchase a $200 gaming system (TWICE as much as a Nintendo!) didn’t seem overly realistic either.
So basically, the Super Nintendo, and Super Mario World by extension, became a shiny, new toy that was absolutely unattainable.
Eventually the system landed in the States, and tons of folks gobbled them up as quickly as possible. There was a rich kid (there’s always a rich kid) who got one on Day 1 and demonstrated F-Zero for us, even letting some of us take it for a spin.
THAT was an experience.
But for most of us, that was our initial exposure to the SNES in person: through demos. We would huddle around those kiosks in department stores and absolutely FREAK OUT about getting to play these new games for a couple of minutes. We would similarly rush to kids’ houses who were lucky enough to have acquired the mythical device, only to have to go home shortly thereafter.
Those gaming sessions, in either form, were all too short.
Tons of folks, like my parents, wondered aloud why they should purchase a new system when the old one still worked perfectly fine. I think those words made an indelible impression on my brain, as I have never, not once, purchased a gaming system on its release date. “I can wait,” I would think. “The price will go down eventually.” Or even, “Maybe it won’t be that good anyway.”
I cannot help it at this point. I am hardwired to wait. It’s branded into my thinking as though I were a cow.
And those experiences, of waiting as a youth, most viscerally felt through the pining for a Super Nintendo, molded me into the type of person who today would rather postpone his happiness more often than not.
So to me, Super Mario World will always firstly represent shininess. Newness. But something that wasn’t yet in one’s grasp. Something very much like hope.
When Obama came along with that slogan, I knew better than to trust it. Hope was Super Mario World, not a politician.
Maybe you’re reading along and nodding your head in agreement, either at sharing in the exact same experience, or in having very nearly the same thing unfold for you five years later with the N64 and Super Mario 64. Or with another system and its launch title. Regardless, the experience is the same: You see a shiny thing, you don’t get that thing, and it comes to represent some kind of better life or happiness for you.
Anyway, we all know better by now. (I think.) Gaming can provide a great deal of enjoyment. And shiny, new things can provide a heck of a dopamine surge. But none of that will solve world hunger or provide the meaning of life.
All of this is to say, Super Mario World came to represent something that no video game could ever live up to, no matter how good a game it ended up being.
Most folks reading this should know I record a weekly Star Wars podcast with a couple of friends of mine, and one of the things we’re fond of saying on the show is to “check your expectations at the door.”
It’s an acknowledgment that our expectations can affect our experience. The problem with our enjoyment with a thing can often arise due to our own (incorrect) expectations for that thing. And this can apply to any form of entertainment, but it can also apply to life in general. Like if I’m craving a specific thing for lunch and then plans change and I don’t get it, I can be disappointed. Well, that’s my own stupid fault for putting expectations on my day in the first place.
“Dave, you didn’t NEED to have that burrito to be happy.”
Coming to terms with this phenomenon and trying to adapt to things on the fly is an important part of growing up. And when it comes to entertainment, it’s perhaps doubly important if you don’t want to come away from everything you experience completely dejected or angry.
So yes, I had built Super Mario World up into being something akin to the Holy Grail.
It didn’t quite live up to those lofty standards.
It was beautiful, and fun, and genuinely great. The more I played of it, however, the more my impression of it dropped. Eventually, it wasn’t even a priority acquisition for me … by the time I eventually chipped in with my brother to buy a SNES together, we went with the model that didn’t come with Mario packed in since it was cheaper.
Shock and horror!
It wasn’t so much that the game wasn’t appealing anymore – it was – but it moved off of the priority list in favor of newer, shinier things like Street Fighter II.
So, a game that once represented hope and good in the world became something less than essential. It was part of the backlog, in a time when the term “backlog” hadn’t even been coined yet.
That status of being knocked off the perch as No. 1 desired to something less important almost tainted the experience for me once I finally did buy Super Mario World a few years later and committed to sitting down with it and playing it all the way through.
Almost.
I could never go so far as to call the game a disappointment, because honestly, it came darn close to reaching Holy Grail status anyway, despite how unreasonable my initial expectations were.
The shine was off, but the game still delivered.
And that’s the thing. For all intents and purposes, Super Mario World really is pretty close to perfect.
The controls are fluid and precisely attuned to the action on the screen. The stage design is an absolute clinic on variety and creativity. The game is big and wide and at times awe-inspiring as you traverse a world map that exceeds most maps we’ve seen before and since. It’s colorful and vibrant and sounds great. And the mechanics in play that are supplemental in nature, such as carrying items, flying through the air with your cape, or even riding a dinosaur (let’s not undersell THAT … it was a huge selling point at the time) are absolutely joy-inducing.
That I could play this game, given every expectation that had been placed on it, and still enjoy it thoroughly is a testament to it. A badge of honor, if you will. I can think of many games over the years (several of them sequels) that DID disappoint me. Some of them I gained an appreciation for over time, but I can’t think of one single other game that basically came up short of some imaginary finish line I had envisioned for it and yet did NOT disappoint me.
I built it up too much and it didn’t quite reach that expectation, but nevertheless it was an awesome experience?
That game, for me, is Super Mario World.
And the happy ending in this story is that eventually, after that initial song and dance and “will they, won’t they?” Cheers-style face off between myself and the game, we eventually joined. And after many years of play, it has begun to rise in my estimation again. What wasn’t a priority became absolutely essential.
(It just wasn’t that way from the get-go.)
My game-related critiques?
I suppose it can get a little bloated in places with some of the levels feeling like you (and the developers) are going through the motions at times. The power-ups are less varied and interesting than they were the last time out in Super Mario 3. And the controls are almost too good. Mario feels a little wilder and more out of control here, because the controls are sensitive to the slightest possible movement. That’s no bueno during difficult jumps or even when trying to land squarely on the backs of your enemies. Sometimes you’ll miss. It’ll be your fault, but a smidge less speed and precision here would actually help most gamers land those moves more cleanly.
But that’s taking a microscope to things. Honestly, none of those observations constitute “good” reasons to put this game lower than any of the other Mario games. For me, it’s all about the joy.
Mario 2 delivered absolute gaming joy in a wildly different package.
Mario 3 was a joyful celebration of what made Mario great in the first place.
And Mario World was the promise of continued joy, now and into the future.
Play them and revere them in that order – 2, 3, World – and I think you’ll get an accurate picture of that era, and of my experience of it.
So what makes it worth playing today?
Everyone has to play this.
It’s not obstructionally long.
It’s not overrated by the critics or fanboys.
It’s not showing its age.
It IS a definitive 2D platformer, a game that holds up as one of the best of its kind.
It IS an essential game.
And, now, after years of reflection and enjoyment, it is essential for me too.
Dave’s Score: 10/10
Check out the whole Retro Gaming Essentials list here!
How to play
- Original hardware (SNES)
- Super Mario All-Stars + Super Mario World (SNES)
- Super Mario World: Super Mario Advance 2 (Gameboy Advance)
- Virtual Console (Wii & WiiU)
- SNES Classic Edition
- Nintendo Switch Online