Throughout the years, Nintendo has christened, defined and set the standard with the release of a Mario title in the beginning of their console's five to six year run: Mario Bros. on the NES, Super Mario World on the SNES, and Super Mario 64 on the N64 are the prime examples. Mario's first solo incarnation on the Gamecube, Super Mario Sunshine, released more than a year after the Gamecube itself came out, is an effort worthy to be deemed a Nintendo and Mario title, but it lacks the groundbreaking and definitive qualities that its predecessors had, most notably Super Mario 64 when it debuted on the N64 six years prior.
By groundbreaking and definitive, I mean that Mario 64 introduced to the world of gaming the sheer potential of three-dimensional gameplay. SM64 represented a paradigm shift in gaming, a changing of the guard, from 2-D to 3-D, from pre-rendered to real-time, bringing with it the glorious potential for innovation and interaction. Helmed by the great Shigeru Miyamoto, Mario 64 dazzled gamers and critics alike, sold countless N64s, and most importantly it emphasized the most vital aspect a game can have--gameplay.
Fast forward six years to the year 2002. Super Mario Sunshine has just come out. I play it and realize that there's just something not quite right with the game. I recognize that the game is no slouch--don't get me wrong--but something's missing. The magic, that intangible, fleeting magic that you can only catch glimpses of , is not there in its entirety in Sunshine. This can be attributed to many factors. For one, the gameplay is similar to that of SM64, so it doesn't have that entirely innovative appearance. Two, games before Sunshine have rehashed some of the gameplay mechanics introduced by SM64, adding to the wear and tear of that general formula. And three, Sunshine feels like a prettier yet restricted version of SM64.
In Sunshine, you collect Shine Sprites, similar to the stars found in SM64. There are 8 objectives per level instead of six, which yield a Shine Sprite upon completion. Two Shine Sprites are hidden per level, and you can claim the eleventh by collecting 100 coins. This formula of gameplay has been exploited over the years since SM64's release. Donkey Kong 64, a game I think was a letdown in many ways, uses this gameplay formula, as does the lovable Banjo Kazooie and its sequel. Where Sunshine doesn't shine as brightly as its predecessor, however, is in its control mechanics and some aspects of its gameplay design. Mario controls well enough, and your ability to manipulate the camera is improved, but in the end, this compromises--along with the way the levels and objectives are designed--the sense of freedom Mario 64 had. In SM64, levels were usually massive, although at the sacrifice of detail. Through the open-air level design of Mario 64, the developers utilized the full potential of 3-d gameplay. Mario could launch out of cannons across whole levels, take to the sky with the wing cap and touch the heavens. This liberating factor allowed the player to devise his or her own methods for capturing certain star pieces. That was the beauty, the intangible variable that I think made SM64 the classic game that it is. Sunshine takes that away with the exclusion of things that allow the player to improvise, and with the inclusion and reliance on the water cannon, the way the objectives are designed, and the restricted scope and design of the levels you play in.
The premise of the game involves Mario, the Princess and her court going on vacation away from the Mushroom Kingdom to an island called "Isle Delfino." Upon arrival, a crisis has broken out: the airstrip where they have landed is covered in a mysterious goop, and there is so much pollution that the sun is being blotted out. The locals accuse Mario of these crimes and he is sentenced to mandatory labor to clean up the area with the help of a new gameplay device, FLUDD, a sentient water cannon with interchangeable nozzles. These nozzles allow Mario to manipulate water in various ways, giving him the ability to move through his environment, clean up goop, fight enemies, and solve puzzles. Setting out on his journey to clear his name, Mario discovers the true perpetrator to be a "shadowy" figure who possesses Mario's form.
Much like SM64, the levels that Mario can visit are accessible through numerous, indirect passages, never directly accessible in the sense that Mario can run to them. These levels are equally as exotic and sunny as the rest of the game, from the rolling, green Bianco Hills, to the massively mycological and tribal Pianta Village. Each level feels sharply distinct in its design and detail, right down to the musical themes that play, which conform to the personality and atmosphere. Organic instruments play upbeat tunes in the tribal-like Pianta village; the theme of Pinna Park captures the spirit of an amusement park as you stare in wonder at the swaying pirate ship's reflection in a pool of water below, spinning merry-go-rounds, and a rotating Ferris wheel. If you get up on said Ferris wheel, you have a breathtaking vantage point of the whole front side of Isle Delfino's, enabling you to see the other locales of the game situated at certain points along the Island.
Three-dimensional gameplay has come a long way since SM64 revolutionized it, and not many games have come close to the way SM64 executed it. A game is not supposed to have many limits unless its purpose is emulating the real world or a realistic facsimile thereof. In our real world, gravity holds us back: we can't jump as high as Mario, we can't leap off a mountain and watch ourselves and hope we land on the huge mushroom with the star on it, moreover survive. In a virtual world, gravity's not necessary, and especially with a 3-d Mario game, its full effects aren't necessarily desired.
By groundbreaking and definitive, I mean that Mario 64 introduced to the world of gaming the sheer potential of three-dimensional gameplay. SM64 represented a paradigm shift in gaming, a changing of the guard, from 2-D to 3-D, from pre-rendered to real-time, bringing with it the glorious potential for innovation and interaction. Helmed by the great Shigeru Miyamoto, Mario 64 dazzled gamers and critics alike, sold countless N64s, and most importantly it emphasized the most vital aspect a game can have--gameplay.
Fast forward six years to the year 2002. Super Mario Sunshine has just come out. I play it and realize that there's just something not quite right with the game. I recognize that the game is no slouch--don't get me wrong--but something's missing. The magic, that intangible, fleeting magic that you can only catch glimpses of , is not there in its entirety in Sunshine. This can be attributed to many factors. For one, the gameplay is similar to that of SM64, so it doesn't have that entirely innovative appearance. Two, games before Sunshine have rehashed some of the gameplay mechanics introduced by SM64, adding to the wear and tear of that general formula. And three, Sunshine feels like a prettier yet restricted version of SM64.
In Sunshine, you collect Shine Sprites, similar to the stars found in SM64. There are 8 objectives per level instead of six, which yield a Shine Sprite upon completion. Two Shine Sprites are hidden per level, and you can claim the eleventh by collecting 100 coins. This formula of gameplay has been exploited over the years since SM64's release. Donkey Kong 64, a game I think was a letdown in many ways, uses this gameplay formula, as does the lovable Banjo Kazooie and its sequel. Where Sunshine doesn't shine as brightly as its predecessor, however, is in its control mechanics and some aspects of its gameplay design. Mario controls well enough, and your ability to manipulate the camera is improved, but in the end, this compromises--along with the way the levels and objectives are designed--the sense of freedom Mario 64 had. In SM64, levels were usually massive, although at the sacrifice of detail. Through the open-air level design of Mario 64, the developers utilized the full potential of 3-d gameplay. Mario could launch out of cannons across whole levels, take to the sky with the wing cap and touch the heavens. This liberating factor allowed the player to devise his or her own methods for capturing certain star pieces. That was the beauty, the intangible variable that I think made SM64 the classic game that it is. Sunshine takes that away with the exclusion of things that allow the player to improvise, and with the inclusion and reliance on the water cannon, the way the objectives are designed, and the restricted scope and design of the levels you play in.
The premise of the game involves Mario, the Princess and her court going on vacation away from the Mushroom Kingdom to an island called "Isle Delfino." Upon arrival, a crisis has broken out: the airstrip where they have landed is covered in a mysterious goop, and there is so much pollution that the sun is being blotted out. The locals accuse Mario of these crimes and he is sentenced to mandatory labor to clean up the area with the help of a new gameplay device, FLUDD, a sentient water cannon with interchangeable nozzles. These nozzles allow Mario to manipulate water in various ways, giving him the ability to move through his environment, clean up goop, fight enemies, and solve puzzles. Setting out on his journey to clear his name, Mario discovers the true perpetrator to be a "shadowy" figure who possesses Mario's form.
Much like SM64, the levels that Mario can visit are accessible through numerous, indirect passages, never directly accessible in the sense that Mario can run to them. These levels are equally as exotic and sunny as the rest of the game, from the rolling, green Bianco Hills, to the massively mycological and tribal Pianta Village. Each level feels sharply distinct in its design and detail, right down to the musical themes that play, which conform to the personality and atmosphere. Organic instruments play upbeat tunes in the tribal-like Pianta village; the theme of Pinna Park captures the spirit of an amusement park as you stare in wonder at the swaying pirate ship's reflection in a pool of water below, spinning merry-go-rounds, and a rotating Ferris wheel. If you get up on said Ferris wheel, you have a breathtaking vantage point of the whole front side of Isle Delfino's, enabling you to see the other locales of the game situated at certain points along the Island.
Three-dimensional gameplay has come a long way since SM64 revolutionized it, and not many games have come close to the way SM64 executed it. A game is not supposed to have many limits unless its purpose is emulating the real world or a realistic facsimile thereof. In our real world, gravity holds us back: we can't jump as high as Mario, we can't leap off a mountain and watch ourselves and hope we land on the huge mushroom with the star on it, moreover survive. In a virtual world, gravity's not necessary, and especially with a 3-d Mario game, its full effects aren't necessarily desired.
Tell Your Friends