Metroid Fusion — Dreadful Anticipation
I don’t know about you, but I am hyped for Metroid Dread (Nintendo, 2021). But, true to my form, I’ve kept my information intake minimal. All I know (or have inferred) is it’s 2D-gameplay with 3D models, a la the Nintendo 3DS Metroid: Samus Returns, and takes place chronologically last in the series so far. Got me on both the mechanical and the narrative angles!
Then I realized how much I, intentionally or not, have waited around for new Metroid games in my life. And why wouldn’t I? They’re fantastic as games, beautifully set, scored, and designed. They innovate, they challenge norms, they set trends, and they are still unabashedly Metroid. Even Metroid Prime Pinball relies on certain staples of the Metroid equation, and it’s literally a pinball game. So, in anticipation for Metroid Dread, I thought it would informative, entertaining, and would help me pass the time until October 8th to revisit the Metroid series, not in order of release, but in order of my playing them. Spoiler alert: we’re gonna get whiplash, y’all.
What’s Past is Epilogue OR “Let me start at the end.”
In true “me” fashion, I found out about Dread’s existence from my younger brother. In his game choice growing up, in his art now, in his general inspiration for and love of sci-fi, he has always been big into the Metroid series. When me and my brothers were fully equipped with Game Boy Advance systems, we started to branch into games that we could play. Metroid Fusion called to him, and, invariably, I ended up playing it, too.
Were we confused when it was introduced as “Metroid 4” on the title cutscene? Yes. Did we have any clue what these planet names were or meant, where this “Baby Metroid” came into play, or any inkling of what happened before this? Not in the least. In hindsight, it is genuinely hilarious that we dove so strongly into this fourth installment absolutely clueless. But it’s impressive just the same that it could hook us so thoroughly, even without any prior experience with the game.
There would be late nights and car rides home, the GBA Wormlight allowing us to keep guiding Samus through this strange research station. Fusion was a perfect blend of creepy, challenging, and fun. It was dark and foreboding, but it still felt like a game. It was linear and objective-based, but still felt open and exploratory. It absolutely destroyed us with Game Over after Game Over, but we knew that we were sloppy and could do better, read the bad guys better, react better.
There is something to be said about the rose-tinted melodies of nostalgia, especially regarding the music of our youth. Take a listen to it again down the line, maybe it doesn’t hold up. But the rose-tinting was powerful back then. I’d revisit a number of Fusion’s tracks in years to follow, using them as an inspiration for other creative works given how beautifully they would set a stage or tone. With a single mono speaker, Metroid Fusion, in no small part, laid the foundation for my love of, not just game music, but music.
There were bits and pieces of lore and information that made zero sense to us growing up (namely, an unfamiliar face chilling in deep-freeze), but that had no bearing on our ability to enjoy it. We got to be Samus Aran, absolute badass with a blaster-cannon for an arm, taking no prisoners and saving the galaxy! Unless the SA-X showed up. Then we hid. Like strong, confident absolute badasses.
It doesn’t always behoove people to begin a story at its latest installment, but for us, Metroid Fusion was a great jumping off point. It showed us Metroid’s gameplay, its tone, and what we could generally expect from any future outings. Even though that all got sent into the blender with my next outing, it was foundational for both our shared love of the Metroid series, and what we looked for and appreciated in games going forward.
Started at the End, now we’re here
A few thoughts, having now completed a return-run of Metroid Fusion:
“HOW DOES THE MUSIC STILL HOLD UP SO WELL?”
“THEY DID SO WELL WITH THE STORY AND GAMEPLAY BALANCE, WHY DID THEY SHIFT IT FOR OTHER M OR WHATEVER?”
“I DIDN’T APPRECIATE THIS MAP DESIGN ENOUGH AS A YOUTH.”
And so on. Most of my thoughts were in all-caps. It was exciting. Shut up.
The entire game stood up nineteen years from its release. Four elements absolutely stood the test of time: atmosphere, sound design, gameplay, and plot.
Atmospherically, one must recall (or imagine) how small the Game Boy Advance screens are. Today’s youth (and everyone, really) is spoiled by all that resolution on their smartphones and Switches and whatnot! The fact that Fusion’s designers blasted so much visual atmosphere onto that screen is astounding, even more so that it holds up today. Little things, like how familiar objects and setpieces (to seasoned Metroid players) found their way into the research station, to watching enemies realize down the line that they can’t harm you, and actively start avoiding you, all add to the overall vibe and feeling of immersion. General aesthetic, lighting (both when well-lit and creepily dark), the atmospheric sound design, all amazing. Even on a single screen no larger than 3-inches by 2-inches and a single Mono speaker (my Game Boy Advance SP doesn’t have a headphone jack), they did a lot with not very much. To get sucked into that small window, no matter how close you hold the screen to your eyes, is a feat, then and now.
Sound design. Again, I cannot stress how impressive this is coming out of a mono speaker. The beams, from start to end, sound punchy. The jumps, no matter how high you go, feel more effective with the swishing-spinning noises Samus makes. Little sound bites, from station-wide announcements to the weird noises that the boss creatures play, consistently spiked memories. Can I describe those boss sounds, outside of a shuddering noise with a smile on my face? No. Did a bunch of them awaken feelings of nerve and fear than nostalgia? Yes. That’s powerful sound design.
And on the vein of powerful, there’s something to be said about the understated approach, too. Many Metroid titles make a big, musical deal about players finding an upgrade tank for their missiles, energy, or what have you: pause the background music, kill the atmosphere, play jingle, resume play. Fusion takes a subtler approach: upon collection, play a synthy rhythm over the music, and then resume play much more quickly. It acknowledges your discovery and rewards you, but doesn’t rip you out of your flow as jarringly.
Lastly, the music. Though I (unapologetically) gush about music in games, Metroid Fusion already held a special place in my heart. It kickstarted my love of video game music and felt enjoyable outside the game, paving the way for years of musical exploration. The music fit perfectly with the atmosphere, every time a track would start. And there lies the soundtrack’s greatest contribution to the Fusion experience: it was themed like a score. Story beats and atmospheric cues would pop up, and the track would alter itself accordingly. It was not like other games, Metroid or otherwise, where the tracks were dictated by location alone, but by where the narrative was at right then and there. Soft hums in an empty room were nervewracking as I searched for an unseen enemy. Anxious ratcheting of music after moments of calm would spike my heart. And when the music died with the lights and power, it hammered in how pressing the danger was.
Gameplay-wise, Fusion hit a lot of solid points for a return-trip. Samus feels quick and agile, yes, but also weak. No matter how many energy tanks I stumbled into, no matter how upgraded my abilities were, she felt like a glass cannon threatening to fracture. But it felt good, it felt in-line with the story, consistent! And props should always be given for a wordless tutorial; Fusion nails it out of the gate with one of the old “learn how to do these things or be stuck” tutorials, both for brand new players (heyo!) and old players to get used to Samus’s new moveset.
Coming at Fusion brand new, the maps can feel like a lot. But coming at it from some of the other titles, having the game chunked out into different sections (seven in total), each with their own separate map, helped to keep the adventure focused and manageable for as many players as possible (myself included). As much as players (myself included again!) may appreciate the design of interconnected world maps, sometimes it’s nice to have things feel smaller and more accessible.
Aside from the terrifying and brilliant noises the bosses make, extra props are also deserved for their fights. With very few exceptions, they feel more like puzzles and patterns to exploit, rather than contests of strength and ammo. And even those couple bosses who don’t fit the larger mold lean into the war of attrition and power wonderfully. As with so many things in Fusion, it fits the narrative and the atmosphere when it changes course.
Lastly, the divisive element of being guided by another character, and objectives. I can see why it might not jive with all players, especially returning players, who have grown so used to exploring and discovering things on their own. But for newer players (as I was) and time-pressed adults (as I am), it was kind of nice to have the game tell me “go here,” but not stop me if I wanted to explore off the beaten path a bit. I thought it was a brilliant way to approach the game, but what really sold me on it was when they cut the leash.
Players spend a great deal of time being told, specifically, what to do, where to do it, and so on. So when that proverbial leash goes slack, and all you get is “there’s a problem in this general area. Go deal with it,” it signals a dynamic shift in the game. Instead of an objective marker, a clear path, and manageable problems, players are given an entire area to explore, a vague objective, and enemies out for more blood than usual. Once I crossed that threshold, I started getting hit with Game Over after Game Over. I appreciated that shift, and I appreciated the challenge all the more because of how Fusion played before.
The final element was the plot. It stands up, for as much as people might play Metroid for the story and the worldbuilding. And fundamentally, it might be all you need before jumping into Dread! Fusion takes place chronologically right before Dread, Fusion touches on all the important elements of the other games’ stories, and overtly builds out all elements, old and new, with simple dialogue and inner-monologue setpieces. To say more specifically would spoil the experience, so if you only have time for one game and the story of Metroid, Fusion is the way to go!
Nineteen years later, Metroid Fusion truly stands up to both my nostalgic memories of it and my modern perspective on it. It was thrilling to go back to it, even though it seems I missed a lot of nooks and crannies in my adventures. If you can find a way to get it or play it, please do. You won’t regret your time aboard the BSL Research Station.
