Samus Aran, the science fiction protagonist in the Metroid series, is arguably Nintendo’s most mysterious character. She doesn’t speak at all. She wears a space warrior’s uniform with a reflective helmet. For most of the games, no one knows what she looks like.
But almost everyone in Metroid Prime 4: Beyond knows Samus as a redeemer.
The game begins with explosions and epic Star Wars-style text. Giant spaceships hover and military bros boisterously express their awe when in the presence of the taciturn hero. Everyone becomes happily stunned when she’s nearby on the planet Viewros. Those who meet her are so gobsmacked that they make Samus seem something like an arm-cannon-wielding Taylor Swift.
Despite the spectacle, Metroid Prime 4’s start is inauspicious. It’s bland and cliché in an effort to appeal to all video game fans. The dialogue is terrible. It feels as if I were transported to a 1960s issue of Superman, and not in a good way.
It doesn’t help that the onscreen world is spinning and my arms are growing tired since I am not moving the controllers correctly. Not until I turn on a different mode, which offers a more familiar control scheme, am I able to move forward with alacrity and shoot precisely. (Yes, Samus can still roll up into a ball to move through small areas.)
That change enables me to eliminate enemies like jungle grievers, grossly mutated versions of the world’s ancient people. These monsters are fast, angry quadrupeds. Although they generally get stronger as the game proceeds, so does Samus.
The game’s sleekly designed gameplay and visual finesse becomes evident as you work to prevent Sylux and the Space Pirates — not a rock band but sci-fi soldier enemies — from obtaining a mystical artefact.
That treasure’s power sends Samus to the base of the gleaming Chrono Tower, where she loses her weapons. Moments earlier, her visor scanned areas and helped me get through locked doors; now it isn’t of much use. Instead, a floating robot leads me around a shiny futuristic maze with magical bridges, often sprawling across gaps with a vast nothingness below.
Eventually, the detective work becomes fruitful. The tragic story of the Lamorn, a sweet, extinct alien race that treated Samus as its saviour, is more memorable than most of the gameplay.
The highly intelligent creatures were hunted to the point of death until only 13 were left, a heartbreaking revelation that reminds me of how men hunt tigers, black rhinos and whales to near extinction. With its waterfalls, flying creatures and bioluminescent flora, all backed by an ethereal choir, the region gives any Avatar film a run for its money.
As Samus searches for five keys hidden on their planet, she acquires an upgradable psychic beam to blast enemies and a better scanner. A nerdy but affable engineer tells Samus about a mech, affectionately called Betsy, that blocks the way. Unfortunately, she’s broken, and you can’t use her. At least there’s a giant open world with harsh environments and secrets to discover ahead.
Agruesome boss, Carvex, reminds me of a much nastier Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors. It wants to stab me with multiple spikes it shoots across the ground and sharp, spinning vines that are thick as tree trunks. But with agility, missiles and swirling blue and pink psychic beams, victory is mine.
Metroid Prime 4: Beyond features an open world that is unpopulated. The emptiness evokes loneliness more than wonder. Here, Samus can speed along on her motorcycle through the vast stretches of desert and even over a pool of lava.
I never liked the idea that the game makers consider Samus “The Chosen One”. The moniker is over the top, trumpeting religion without enough backstory. With patience, though, I understand what the Lamorn people meant when they welcomed Samus as their saviour.
There is hope at the finale of Beyond. In video game science fiction, at least,
there can be optimism and even rebirth.
NYTNS
