All Your History: Metroid Part 3 – Comeback Kid

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By the mid-1990s, it seemed like the Metroid franchise had run its course.  Despite its non-linear gameplay, fantastic art direction, and relatively mature tone compared to other Nintendo franchises, the games in the series all released at the wrong time.  1994’s Super Metroid was hailed as an instant classic, a phenomenal achievement that later critics would look back on as one of the greatest games ever made.  But by releasing so late into the Super Nintendo’s life cycle, it just couldn’t break out.  If a franchise could achieve that much critical praise and still not sell, Nintendo figured it wasn’t one worth pursuing.  The series was shelved for years.  But starting just before the turn of the millennium, Nintendo changed its mind, and before long, two new Metroid games were in the works.  One was under the direction of the series’ original crew.  Unfortunately, the other was in the hands of a floundering studio in Texas that few at Nintendo had any faith in.  That game seemed destined for disaster.  But every once in a while, a miracle occurs, and a game that should be a dud comes out as solid gold.

-Comeback of the Century-

Nintendo had made a push in the 90s to acquire Western studios, to make games that appealed to non-Asian markets.  Very quickly, UK developer Rare proved to be one of Nintendo’s best partners, producing games like Donkey Kong Country and GoldenEye.  Rare was what is referred to as a second-party developer: while still technically independent, Nintendo owned a 49% stake in them, so Rare was only making games for them.

It was with this kind of deal in mind that industry veteran Jeff Spangenberg decided to found a new studio of his own in Austin, Texas, in 1998.  To help get funding, he reached out directly to Nintendo, offering to make his studio a Nintendo second-party developer in exchange for seed money.  Nintendo liked Spangenberg’s long track record at Acclaim, and agreed to the proposal.  Retro Studios would immediately begin working on Western-oriented games for Nintendo’s upcoming new console, the GameCube.

Spangenberg was a seasoned professional, but sometimes, even seasoned professionals get carried away.  Retro began work on not one, not two, but four games simultaneously.  That would be a tall order even for an established company.  For a brand new one, it was disastrous.  Even Spangenberg’s long experience never prepared him for the chaos that ensued, trying to build four separate teams that each shared the resources of one company.  Perhaps inevitably, the developer was soon in disarray.

Lax management and some serious early mistakes compounded the issue, and Nintendo started getting nervous about their investment.  Finally in 2000, they deployed their legend, Shigeru Miyamoto, the father of Mario and Zelda.  Miyamoto was aghast at what he saw, disapproving of all the games in production.  One by one, they were all cancelled.  Not exactly an auspicious start.

So, what was Nintendo to do with the floundering studio where everything was going wrong?  Why not give them the beloved Metroid franchise?  Wait, what?  The decision was as baffling to Retro as it was to anybody else, but Nintendo must have figured that the studio needed a big-name boost, and that the near-dead Metroid didn’t have anything to lose.  That being said, Miyamoto became very directly involved with the production of the new, Western Metroid, notable because Miyamoto had never had anything to do with Metroid before.  And oddly enough, he seemed to keep pushing Retro in a very un-Mario direction.  He ordered that they make the game first-person instead of third-person, over Retro’s objections.  Japanese developers are notorious for avoiding the FPS genre; now, the father of platforming was ordering a Metroid shooter.  The question was, could the 2D gameplay of Metroid translate into 3D?

But, after all the other projects had been cancelled and much of Retro’s staff had been laid off, at least now the studio could work in relative peace, right?  Well, as it turned out, Spangenberg would be kicked out by Nintendo, with the Big N buying out all of his shares and becoming sole owner of the company in May 2002.  Retro was now a first-party developer, with a new head honcho.  And then he would be shown the door not long after.  Staff morale was minimal at best.

Much of this was heavily publicized in the press, and fans of Metroid couldn’t be more disappointed.  After eight years of waiting, it looked like the next Metroid would be a disaster.

And then it came out.

Maybe it was that magic Miyamoto touch, or maybe it was art from adversity, or maybe fate just needed to balance out all of Retro’s bad luck.  Whatever it was, one of the worst development cycles in history produced one of the highest rated games in history.  2002’s Metroid Prime was a stunning success, a landmark title that flawlessly combined FPS gameplay mechanics with the non-linear exploration of Metroids past, while brilliantly showcasing the power of the GameCube and bedazzling its audiences with stellar artwork.

The world Samus found herself on was absolutely huge, and as it should be, it was all one map that could only be fully discovered if the player searched for the right power-ups.  A new addition to the franchise were brain-twisting puzzles, that were perfectly placed to mix up the combat.  It somehow felt just like the terrific 2D games of old, while still making full use of 3D gameplay and graphics.  It maintained that sense of isolation that the series had become known for, as Samus had only herself to depend on: she never encountered a friendly face, ever.  And it all worked flawlessly.

Set between Metroid 1 and 2, it told the tale of Samus once again encountering Space Pirates, who this time are trying to harness the all-powerful Metroid Prime.  While there was no voice acting, Samus could scan items for information, and a complex backstory and plot revealed themselves through the text, a great addition to the gameplay.  Indeed, Metroid Prime became the most story-driven entry in the franchise, although because a player had to actively seek it out, it was both artfully fragmented for gamers who cared and skippable for players who didn’t.

In a hundred other details, from the varied environments to the way Samus’ visor would mist, Metroid Prime was a monolithic masterpiece hewn from a solid block of excellence.  All from the studio that had failed its first four projects in a row.  Astounding.

In the meantime, back in Japan the original team behind the series had made their own sequel, Metroid Fusion, for the Game Boy Advance.  It released right alongside Metroid Prime, and if a player hooked his GBA into his GameCube, the two games would unlock extra content for each other.  Under the direction of Yoshio Sakamoto, it was both a  more linear and less solitary game, since Samus would continually receive orders from an AI character.  This way, the player always knew exactly what to do and had somebody else to talk to.  While this did help characterize Samus herself more than in any previous game, it also broke the series’ signature sense of isolation.  Still, the gameplay was solid, and the story finally revealed the backstory of the evil Metroids themselves, making it a welcome addition among fans of the series.

Good as it was, and despite being from the original team, it paled in comparison to Prime.  The Western-made title became the second-best selling game on the GameCube, behind only Super Smash Bros Melee.  It was the first time that Metroid’s sales had actually equalled its praise, the first time that the Metroid Curse had been reversed.  No Mario or Zelda game that generation sold better than Samus.  Unbelievable.  At long last, Metroid was a priority for Nintendo.

Retro had managed the impossible.  So after the brutal, agonizing labor to produce the game, the studio received their orders from Japan: do it again.

Tune in next time to see Metroid’s most prolific era

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