SUPER MARIO GALAXY

Developed by Nintendo

Published by Nintendo

Nintendo Wii

(three-and-a-half out of four stars)

The weekend after I’d first laid hands upon Galaxy, a couple friends asked me for my opinion of it over an omlette at quarter to midnight. (That’s when I do my best work.) I figured that, as “a guy with a blog that’s received over 40 hits,” I would be speaking in my official voice on such an issue (and thus, subject to the Dogma of Supereffective Infallibility, vis “I’m right, fuckmook.”) So I took a long drag of iced tea, gnawed on some bacon, and began piecing together words.

Now, normally, one could just say, “It’s a great game.” Such a statement is true. Such a statement does not, however, convey the gravity of the situation. (Pun intentional.)

I then spoke. “Nintendo brought us the archetypal platformer, Super Mario Bros., so many years ago. Just over a decade ago, they demonstrated to the world that platformers can work in three dimensions. Last year, they created the Wii and its innovative control schemes. By all rights, we should expect Super Mario Galaxy to be one of, if not the, greatest 3-D platformer ever created, and we should expect it to utilize the new console’s controls to the fullest.

I ate a potato pancake.

“It delivers.”

I suppose that preamble, stripped of the references to my Super Omlette Smile, could suffice as a “Review.” How many people are going to read a review before they purchase this game, anyway? I bought it automatically, knowing that Nintendo managed to survive the past two console generations with scandalously weak third-party support on the strength of its in-house franchises; why would this be any different?

“Different” is a dangerous word. On the one hand, it’s a nostalgia-trip. Mechanics from Super Mario 64 mingle with musical tracks updated from Super Mario Bros. 3. The Fire Flowers are dusted off and back in the mix, along with even more weird-and-wacky power-ups. (If you thought the Tanooki Suit was weird, try picturing Mario wrapped in a huge spring.) The “Collect the stars, there are 120, they’re separated into worlds, and don’t forget Bowser!” concept is lifted directly from Mario 64; Bowser’s airship armada makes a return after an extended absence. These things are familiar, these things tie our gameplay experience to those we’ve had before, almost to play to our good graces. It doesn’t feel “different” at all, when you look at it like this.

But don’t be fooled. This is a step forward… but not, because “Forward” is an abstract concept. “Forward” depends on where you are in relation to it. If you believe that photorealistic graphics, 100+hours of gameplay,  and/or online co-op multiplayer are “the future”, this may look remarkably “backward” to you. However, if you’re willing to stand on your head, allow the blood to pool, and come to the transcendental realization that “Forward” just means “A confident step outward from where we are now,” you will come to understand just how revolutionary this game is.

No one’s done level design like this before, on this scale. (And I only add “on this scale” because someone will, undoubtedly, send me an angry comment because I neglected to mention Gravityman’s stage in Megaman 5. Just covering the bases.) Instead of having one expansive area representing a “flat” parcel of land on a presumably larger terrestrial surface, Galaxy opts to have levels consisting of several smaller terrestrial surfaces, each with their own gravity, which are then navigated in series along the path to one of 120 stars. Sure, it’s disturbing to run on the underside of something at first blush, and the controls can take a bit of getting used to while you’re down there, but the overall effect is one of unbridled innovation. It allows for enormous diversity in level design: one might be lots of small planets, one might be a larger planet with near-constant gravity and only a few outlying bodies; one might be a torus-shaped flume of water populated by sentient penguins. There is no “wrong” answer anymore; everything can be done, it’s a matter of how many stars it’ll take to get to it. Each world (rather, galaxy) houses 1 to 7 stars, some of which can only be acquired while a certain comet is in orbit of that system. Some galaxies are deep and merit exploration, some are one-trick-ponies and admit to such with relative enthusiasm. In either event, the sheer diversity of what Galaxy’s level design is able to present singlehandedly merits the term “different,” so much so that “singular” may enter the picture.

And the Bowser courses? Yeah. Unapologetic and cruel. These are not galaxies co-opted into withholding stars from you; these are stages hand-crafted by the King of Koopas himself with the express purpose of putting your mustachioed arse in a wooden box for good. One section of the final Bowser level actually dropped my jaw, the danger was so great, and I spoke aloud, “Yea, though I walk through the valley in the shadow of Death…”

Such unique design begs effective controls, and Galaxy complies with a familiar setup that feels like you’ve broken an N64 controller in twain (doubtless caused by trying to get 100 coins on Tick Tock Clock, you sorry fool). The jump, long jump, double/triple jump and backflip are all there as you remember, augmented by new tricks such as being able to slide down walls (to better aim wall-jumps) and the waggle-tastic Spin Attack. The Wiimote-D-Pad controls the camera… sometimes… that is to say, when the game doesn’t seem to think it has a better idea of where the camera should be. However, these instances tend to be few and far between; I myself rarely had to take angles into my own hands.  The konpeito gun star-bit-shooter aspects of the Wiimote are welcome, though I didn’t use them much myself. I’d try to scrape up 50 bits for a 1-up, but outside that, couldn’t justify firing them at mobs when my near-20-years of platformer experience was telling me to “jump on the damn thing already.”
Galaxy tries to maintain some relevant plot with this new oddly-familiar bit, Rosalia, who has a charming storybook tale to tell if you’ve the time to hear it. It’s painfully cute and may lead to dental work, so consider yourself warned… suffice to say, she’s tied into the Mushroom Kingdom opus and not just a bit of tail they jammed in ‘cuz they knew Peachie’d be in a box for the bulk of the game. (Though apparently she still gets mail service.) I don’t think it’s necessary, though, because you’ll generally be too enamored with this one-of-a-kind gaming experience to really give a damn about what she’s saying, anyway.

The Wii has seen its share of shit games, just as the DS has, where developers have struggled to figure out the most effective implementations of this new paradigm of gaming control. And, just like the DS, a few first-party titles come along and really work the system for all it’s worth, as if to say to the rest of the industry, “This is how it’s done; this is our vision. Keep this in mind.” Super Mario Galaxy is a shining example of what the Wii can do; now that there’s a solid front marker on the console, the third-parties can see what they need to accomplish in order to successfully develop for Nintendo’s new box. (Hint: rock candy is a good start.)