Nintendo Against Narrative: A Gaming Paradox

Nintendo is known for their limitless creativity when it comes to gameplay, but seem stuck when cracking the narrative nut.

Paradoxes are not supposed to make sense. I am meant to question the absurdity present in a seemingly logical world, the random chaos that dictates the “order” we live by. And yet, as humans we try our best to apply reason to the disorder. A desperation for any semblance of concreteness in an ever changing social landscape is a natural reaction to have, and I experience this intense confusion whenever I boot up Super Mario Galaxy 2.

Why is the sequel to one of the greatest games ever made a retelling of the original? Except this time, hold the charm and heartfelt/melancholic tone that defined the unique loneliness radiating from every silent corner of space in the first game. While Super Mario Galaxy’s aesthetic presentation certainly does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to crafting its comfortably isolating atmosphere, it’s the game’s story where Mario Galaxy transforms from aesthetically interesting to a modern day Nintendo question mark. 

For the uninformed, and those actively practicing self sabotage for every moment they don’t remedy their life threatening illness that is having not played Super Mario Galaxy, the game follows Mario in his adventures throughout solar systems, collecting stars to power the ship of space goddess Rosalina. It’s a simple presentation abound with creative potential fulfilled. Diverse planets are always introducing and evolving new gameplay mechanics for the player to experiment with. Every solar system, biome, even building feels handcrafted with its level of beauty and detail. There is such a strong attention to aesthetics that wonder and astonishment is the only natural response from a new player. While this is typically where the Mario games end when invoking a feeling within the player, Mario Galaxy goes a step further, and as a result, becomes a masterwork. 

Throughout the game Mario can visit Rosalina’s library, where he will find a group of baby luma’s (sentient star babies that Rosalina cares for on her ship, just accept the cuteness), gathered in a warm circle, I imagine their legs would be criss-cross apple sauced if they had any. They stare in wonder at their motherly role model as she tells a story, one of a mysterious girl who was abandoned in the stars, left with a single luma to comfort her soul made frigid by space on fire again. The retelling makes it obvious that this child was Rosalina, that the luma’s are her family, and the refusal to acknowledge her past as her own demonstrates a deep melancholy within the character, a tone unique to this game because of the insertion of a wondrously intimate story that is amplified by aesthetic and game design decisions. 

The blend between visuals and narrative is so seamless that it becomes difficult to imagine a version of Mario Galaxy where that story is missing. Well, it exists in the form of a confusing sequel. While it is certainly arguable Galaxy’s predecessor trumps the first in gameplay, the comparison between story, and as a result, atmosphere, is complete night and day. Rather than be infused with the romantic depiction of a beautiful galaxy made existentially expansive, Galaxy 2 opts for a storybook presentation. Nuance has lost itself amongst the stars. Now, the subtext is made literal, and I am left with an experience that is potentially more mechanically engaging, but infinitely less enjoyable or memorable than the original. Super Mario Galaxy 2 could be the better game, but not because of its strong narrative or unique identity, as it seems to be lacking either. This is not a coincidence. 

Shigeru Miyamoto, the impetus for Nintendo’s imagination, has proclaimed his hatred for narrative multiple times throughout his career. While I admire a game designer who focuses on, well, the gameplay, I simply cannot help but remain utterly baffled when hearing that Miyamoto argued for the removal of Rosalina’s story from the Mario Galaxy. For me, and thousands of like minded players, Mario Galaxy is inseparable from its unique atmosphere made palpable by its rare inclusion of Rosalina’s narrative. It’s simple, but more meat than Mario is used to feasting on, and as a result, Mario’s character, the lore of the mushroom kingdom, and the game are compounded and expanded to heights impossible for the aimless product that would be Mario Galaxy barred Rosalina. Not only does the narrative inclusion make Super Mario Galaxy unique, but complete. As mentioned previously, story and design have never been more in tandem for Nintendo, not just in Mario, but their entire catalog of IP.

Which, again, just confuses and upsets me as an avid Nintendo fan wanting more from their games, wanting something I know can be delivered save for one man’s assertion that story impedes on gameplay. Yes, making sure a game is fun is the number one priority for any commodity selling itself off its entertainment value, but to believe entertainment is the antithesis of narrative goes against the very reason Mario Galaxy is so beloved. Once realizing this and examining the potential in Nintendo’s other historic franchises, I can only be left more disappointed every second I spend thinking about the storytelling potential for a high fantasy setting like Hyrule, or the promise of unique and nuanced worldbuilding in the dark reaches of Metroid’s deep space. Nintendo has solidified itself as a gaming juggernaut not for its technical ability, but its imagination. No one makes games like Nintendo, but I cannot help believing they are similarly holding themselves back from even greater products.

The trailer for Tears of the Kingdom placed extreme emphasis on the narrative of this iteration of Hyrule. Post-apocalyptic mysteries, ancient legends, a new historic race of technologically savvy…things? Nintendo’s patented creativity shines in every crevice of TOTK’s open-world, however, what was a major selling point for me was rendered to exposition dumps from character’s rarely deeper than Link’s own voiceless persona. I wanted to explore the “legend” in Legend of Zelda in a way the series has failed to do save for a few notable entries, entries that are, not coincidentally, praised for their focus on narrative. Skyward Sword’s characters, Twilight Princess’ tone, and Majora’s Mask moody atmosphere are all franchise highlights. And I hope this makes my argument abundantly clear: this insistence that story would make a game worse is simply baffling. We already have rare experiments into narrative content outside of the games, and they are some of the most fun I’ve had with Nintendo’s worlds. The Pokemon adventures anime retelling Red’s legendary run in Kanto is exhilarating and adds life to pixels. The Legend of Zelda manga series injects depth and nuance only found in the Zelda games that actually delve into storytelling. Even more confusing, fans still return to Nintendo’s narratively denser games because of the story. Majora’s mask is memorable because of its characters and atmosphere. Mario Galaxy is remembered for its unique tone rendered by Rosalina’s emotional vulnerability. Again, these stories are not complex, and at this point the lore is so deep and these franchises so expansive that the narratives could practically write themselves. It is no wonder that fans have been begging for a Super Smash Bros. anime since the day Pauletena’s trailer was released: we love story, we love Nintendo, and their greatest and most immersive products have always been the ones willing to expand the worlds of their uniquely creative franchises. 

So this is my personal appeal to Nintendo. Please, as a Nintendo fan, give life to your games not just in imagination and gameplay, but in narrative. Your games are begging for story expansion. Give Link a personality. Characterize Samus in more than animation. Give Mario a goal outside of saving the princess. Make Pokemon…just make any sense at all at this point. Whenever I play a Nintendo game I have a blast, but there’s only a select few where I am emotionally engaged, and by extension, only a select few I herald as the greats. Nintendo can give fans what they want, and relatively easily. I am not asking for the next Lord of the Rings in Tears of the Kingdom’s sequel, I’m simply craving a voice to hear, an identity to recognize, and a world to explore through more than just a joystick.