Metroid Instincts
Sean Malstrom’s been yapping about “Maternal Instincts” in Metroid Other M for over a year now. From his earliest predictions of the game’s impending failure (which would be a direct result of concerning itself with maternal instincts), to his most recent gloating over the game’s low sales (which simply had to be due to the maternal instincts!), Sean has never stopped harping about maternal instincts being the final nail in Metroid’s powercoffin.
[Nintendo is] no longer interested in making fun video games. They are interested in ‘expressing their creativity’. How else to explain the demand for a new game like Super Metroid and we get ‘maternal instincts’ Metroid that explores Samus Aran’s ‘mommy issues’ involving a space jellyfish.
NES Metroid had no cutscenes, no dialogue, no ‘maternal instincts’ (you didn’t even know she was a girl), and relied almost entirely on its core gameplay.
But is this the case? Do the low reviews and low sales all stem from the game concerning itself with the fact that Samus is a girl? Or is Sean yet again misdiagnosing a situation he isn’t capable of understanding? If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you already know the answer. To explain why, let’s dive into the history of the franchise, and the history of Samus’ femininity.
The first Metroid game ended with the unexpected revelation that the avatar you had been controlling was female. It is well known that Samus was not originally conceived of as a female character, with the decision being made near the end of the game’s development. Since the decision was made so late in the process, it had little chance to impact the larger design of the game (Although perhaps Mother Brain was named at this time).
When we were almost done with the development of Metroid, one of our staffers casually suggested “Why don’t we make Samus Aran a female character to surprise the player?” Back then I thought it was a nice idea, but I couldn’t foresee what a huge impact this would have on the future of the franchise. Up to this day, I’m thankful to the person that came up with this idea, although I honestly can’t recall who actually made the suggestion.
While Sakamoto can’t remember who made the suggestion, it is likely the suggestion was influenced by an American science-fiction film released seven years earlier.
I think the film Alien had a huge influence on the production of the first Metroid game. All of the team members were affected by HR Giger’s design work, and I think they were aware that such designs would be a good match for the Metroid world we had already put in place.
Similarly, the character of Warrant Officer Ripley was originally written as a male character. The decision to cast Sigourney Weaver in the role was made just before filming began. But compare the timing of the gender changes for the characters: Samus was rewritten as woman at the end of the project, while Ripley was cast as a woman while the sets were being built. Given the “impregnation” concept Ronald Shusett developed as the Alien’s defining trait, the idea of a female lead had probably been in the back of his mind from the beginning. The influence of this decision had an even larger impact on the sequels.
The Metroid sequels are also more conscious of Samus’ gender; the most notable instances being Metroid II and Super Metroid.
After defeating Ridley in Metroid II, Samus discovers a hatchling metroid.
The hatchling metroid is shown to think of Samus as its mother by following her, and helping her leave the level by destroying obstacles. The narrative goal is conveyed through the game’s mechanics, not through a cutscene or voiceover. This is good design. If a narrative element can’t be delivered by playing the game, it has no place being in a game.
Early on in Super Metroid, the hatchling metroid is captured by Ridley. This provides a narrative goal (rescue the baby metroid) and a game goal (shoot everything between you and the baby metroid). Consider this: While Mario is driven to rescue Peach by Masculine Instincts (which need no elaboration), Samus is driven to rescue the baby metroid by Maternal Instincts (rescuing a defenseless “baby”). And yet both could be considered opposite sides of the same fundamental instinct!
Near the end of the game, Samus is attacked by a giant metroid that suddenly backs off, and begins cooing. Without a single text box of explanation, the connection to the baby metroid at the beginning is made. The baby metroid’s sacrifice at the very end is presented in an identical fashion, without explanatory text. It also serves a purpose for the game’s mechanics, by restoring the the player’s energy, and providing the final weapon to defeat Mother Brain.
What would these games be like if they were non-interactive and had copious amounts of poorly-written narration over them? Something like this:
Now we get to the heart of the matter. What is Metroid Other M about? Before we look at the story we are told in cutscenes and voice-overs, let’s look at the story told by the game’s mechanics:
- Extremely long slow-paced non-interactive cinematics frequently interrupt play. Auto-targeting aims for you.
This is a game about the unimportance of player input, and therefore the player. - Linear level design, with each new objective from Adam highlighted on a complete map.
You are not a free agent exploring the unknown. You can only follow the path. You can only follow orders. - Weapons and powerups are not collected, they are authorized by Adam.
This is a game about submission.
Other M does not concern itself with the elements of Maternal Instincts that inspire bravery and strength; it instead centers on femininity as a weakness. Previous games presented Samus’ gender as the source of her strength. Dealing in Maternal Instincts did not doom Metroid Other M—employing mechanics that narratively weaken a strong female character did.
Finally, what can be said of the story we watch, the controller resting on the floor? Even after all the talk of baby metroids, bottle ships, and babies crying, Samus isn’t even the character who is placed in the role of being a mother. Instead we witness two different characters performing the roles of “mother and child” dysfunctionally, immediately before the very last boss battle, which is literally a fight against the control scheme’s auto-aim! Following that, the only “maternal relationship” in the story is abruptly and unceremoniously ended on a sour note. Even on a cinematic level, the handling of maternal themes is completely botched. Samus’ obedience to Adam is nonsensical and hollow. The relationships with the other soldiers is underdeveloped and forgettable. Samus gets scared of Ridley and can’t shoot him. The list goes on.
So why aren’t we getting [a game like Super Metroid for the home console]? Why are we getting a game with tons of cutscenes, dialogue, and discussions of Samus’s ‘maternal instincts’? The answer why has nothing to do about a quality video game. It has everything to do with developers wishing to ‘express their creativity’.
No, Other M is the result of a lack of creativity. It takes no effort to record a voice-over artist dully describing feeling like a mother to a mysterious alien lifeform—showing that relationship through game mechanics requires a far greater degree of cleverness. Creating moments of recognition for the player without spelling everything out for them is difficult. Flat-out telling the player what you are referencing is easy. Making a game where progression through advancement of skill is gradual and smooth is difficult. Doling out enhancements mechanically when needed is easy. And sadly, Team Ninja took the path of least resistance every step of the way.
