I'm sitting here after writing a title that I never wanted to write and feeling a little forlorn about it. In many ways, The Legend of Zelda has been the cornerstone of my gaming world, the series that made me want to become a writer and had a profound effect on the fantasy adventures and worlds I've created in books over the years. If you were to take a strand of my DNA and study it, you would probably find a couple of Deku Nuts and Rupees among all the genetic data and Italian flags.
So to sit down and write an article about the day I fell out of love with Zelda feels a little bittersweet. It's a topic that I've had on my mind for a while now and something that I've touched upon in previous podcast episodes with the likes of Devin Supertramp and Tofer A, but it's an important thought process that I want to share with you and the retro gaming community as a whole. There may be some controversial opinions in here and some of you might disagree with me on points, and I'm more than willing to hear your thoughts in the comments section. But for now, let me get stuck into discussing the series I've loved since I was seven years old and how an 'it's not me, it's you' conversation has been long overdue.
A Hylian Hero To Look Up To
When other kids were looking up to cartoon characters or their favourite actors as kids, the only person I wanted to be was Link. I remember being annoyed that I couldn't go as him to World Book Day and trying to convince my parents that Nintendo Official Magazine counted as a book. I would read every magazine soaking up as much information about Ocarina of Time as I could; it's the first Zelda game that I was introduced to as a child, and the Christmas that I opened up that black box with the gold writing on the front will forever be one of the best days of my life.
My parents had worried that it was a little too advanced for me at the time; I'd played computer games with my Uncle Mimo when I was younger but had never owned a console until the arrival of the N64 in the UK in 1997. Zelda released the following year, and I had built up my skills by playing Mario Kart and Super Mario 64 - in my mind, I was ready for anything. I hadn't contemplated having to battle a massive arachnid-esque creature at the beginning of the game after being scared of spiders or the challenging nature of the puzzles, but looking back now I suppose it was all character-building.
The story of an orphan plunged into a quest to save the world, a young boy growing up and overcoming insurmountable adversities - it was completely spellbinding. I can't begin to tell you how much joy that gave me, and I suppose if you're a similar age to me and also grew up with the N64, I won't need to. The cutscenes, the bosses, the twists and turns; it felt like the game was made for fantasy book lovers, a game where the narrative and combat intertwine to carry you through the adventure of a lifetime.
There was just the right amount of mystery without it being too hard, and while I had to refer to the free guides that came with NoM for some of the harder parts, I feel like the gameplay set a bar that I would judge other titles on from that moment on. I have so many special memories from this game too, from my mum collecting rupees for me while I was out at school so I could buy items when I got home to finally defeating Ganon in the wreckage of his ruined castle. And some people think that video games rot your brain!
Teaching The Meaning Of Patience
It took me a long time to understand the importance of Majora's Mask in my life, but I'm wholly there now. As a kid, and I bet you thought the same thing at least once, I just got annoyed about the constant changing of time. Three days just isn't enough to save the world, how was anyone supposed to be able to do that?
Now that we live in a world where everything is available immediately and we don't have to wait for anything, I understand the important message that this game taught me. Waiting for a specific time for a character to appear, knowing that you couldn't do certain actions until a certain day, or having to repeat processes again if you missed your chance - they really made you think about the gameplay and your actions, especially banking your money so you wouldn't lose it when going back through time.
It's something that Miyamoto and Aonuma have carried forward into modern titles too; how many of you have waited for a shadow to appear at the right moment for a Shrine to appear, fired an arrow at the right time, or waited for something to melt or appear? There are so many games like God of War or Returnal that, while incredible, promote a faster pace of gameplay, but Zelda games have always been games that you're proud to be in for the long haul. Again, they're like a good book that you don't mind getting lost in and taking your time with, and you feel like you're growing with Link as he both succeeds and fails.
Miyamoto's Pride & Joy
Miyamoto brought the Legend of the Zelda to the world on the NES in 1986. He's the father of Hyrule and has understandably been quite protective of the formula over the years. I can't imagine how Eiji Aonuma must have felt when he came into the team to work on Majora's Mask and was given the mammoth task of creating a game in a year, capitalising on the success of Ocarina of Time and using the same character sprites to get the job over the line while meeting Miyamoto's high standards. That's one boss that you don't want to disappoint or mess with.
The thing is, if it wasn't for Aonuma gently messing with Miyamoto's formula and taking the risks that Miyamoto maybe felt a little too reserved to make, we wouldn't have titles like The Wind Waker or Breath of the Wild. I did an in-depth feature about how Aonuma created the Wind Waker with lots of insightful snippets about his character creation and world-building building as well as channeling messages he wanted his son to learn into the narrative that I'd love you to read after this article as that game has so many important nuances that, once again, have shaped the series and myself as whole over the years.
One thing has always remained, however, and that's the strong overarching narrative that the pair have focused these games on. Miyamoto and Aonuma have always championed that feeling of progression and achievement; you feel like you're in the shoes, and tunic, of the Hero of Time whenever you play, but you're learning what it means to be a hero at the same time too. The narrative is wholesome and uplifting, and while you're essentially jumping headfirst into the idea of escapism, you always feel like you've got an end goal in sight. You will eventually find the right path you need to be on after exploring, and there are little hints that will help you on the way if you really do get stuck (even in Oracle of Ages and Seasons, and I don't want to think about the number of hours I've put into those games). Miyamoto has always been proud of the core values the series promotes, and they're what made me fall in love with Zelda in the first place.
The Winds Of Change
Though Miyamoto didn't initially want to accept the change in the series, change is something that has become synonymous with the Zelda franchise in more ways than one. Changing the day, the direction of the wind, changing into an animal or donning a mask to become a different creature. Grabbing a feather to be able to jump, and even changing from a child to an adult - change plays a huge part in these games and mirrors the natural progression of life (apart from that animal part, I've not managed to become an animagus yet).
For a series that promotes change in such a prominent way, I wasn't worried about the arrival of the new version of Hyrule in Breath of the Wild at all. We've been conditioned to change throughout the previous games, and this one is one that I think we had all secretly hoped for. Being able to climb up to higher platforms, interacting with everything in sight; it was exactly what my mum had kept asking me through every other Zelda game thus far, and I no longer had to say 'It's not that kind of game.'
I've long said that there would be no Zelda game that could beat Ocarina of Time, but Breath of the Wild managed it in a way that I didn't think would ever be possible. It was so fresh, so exciting, and came with unbridled possibilities while still maintaining that sense of having an end goal and purpose. Rather than changing the formula, it felt like expanding on the same core values Miyamoto and Aonuma have always held dear - exploration and adventure, all tied up with the puzzling element that I've always relished in every Zelda game. Ok, there are too many Koroks to find and that weird poop they give you for completing the challenge feels like a complete waste of time, but that's my only complaint.
There were many firsts in this game too - will you ever forget the first time you met a Lynel? How about a Hinox, or one of Ganon's forms in the divine beasts? It was unique for all the right reasons for me and a major credit to the series, and while people said that 'It wasn't a proper Zelda game,' I remained positive. 'It's still got the same elements,' I'd come back with, confident that things would continue to improve for the better with Breath of the Wild's sequel.
A World I No Longer Connect With
I've tried to get on board with Tears of the Kingdom; I've put a lot of hours into the game and tried to remain hopeful about how the game might progress as I carried on playing. I've thought this for a while now but haven't been entirely honest with myself - the Zelda that I grew up with, the same Zelda that I made so many core memories with, has disappeared, and that same change that has been so critical in the progression of the series has finally taken one step too far for me.
Arriving back in the same Hyrule that I had just left felt exciting; everyone loves picking up where they left off in games, and it promotes that comfortable familiarity where you can jump straight back into the action. My issue with this game is that it's just too big, overwhelmingly so, to the point where there is no defined progression route anymore. The gameplay is more about building items to defeat enemies than it is about the actual enemies themselves; there's no skill or tactics involved to overcome enemies when you can just mine for Zonaite and build a Lynel-smashing machine while hiding behind a wall.
This doesn't feel like following the path to becoming the hero of legend anymore - it just feels lazy.
I've turned this game on so many times and felt lost for what to do. The sky levels are so big and vast, the depths doubly so, and the emphasis on building seems to detract from everything that Miyamoto and Aonuma have channeled into the series thus far. It's the equivalent of moving from Banjo-Tooie to Nuts and Bolts in my mind, and I just don't enjoy playing the game. I don't have that same feeling of excitement when I turn it on, that same feeling of escaping from my everyday stresses. Instead, after a long day of writing, I'm in the dark mining for materials, puttin in another shift so I can eventually play and get stuck somewhere on a craft I've built.
Zelda games have always pioneered new ideas; having all of the items available to purchase at the beginning of A Link Between Worlds was a great idea and something incredibly novel, but I just think the game would have been much better focusing on combat and narrative like Breath of the Wild without any of the building elements - it's watered down the things I loved about this series the most rather than adding to them, and that's what disappoints me the most.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Aonuma has stated publically that he can't understand why people would want to go back to the old Zelda formula, and I understand why he has that opinion. For someone who has always championed change, the idea of going backward would seem counterproductive, but I worry that the next iteration of the Zelda series will lose even more of the elements that made the series so special to thousands of players around the globe.
Honestly, I've enjoyed playing Echoes of Wisdom more than I have Tears of the Kingdom because it feels like a continuation of Link's Awakening and the other handheld Zelda titles. Change isn't always about making things bigger as we know from the decision to switch to cel-shaded graphics in The Wind Waker; sometimes a character change, a new look, or opening up different movesets can provide enough of a change while still keeping the core elements of a game intact.
I know that I'm probably in a small minority of people who feel this way, but for someone who has lived and breathed Zelda his entire life and has looked to these games for enjoyment, researching and getting ready for new releases and waiting in anticipation to pick up the Master Sword all over again, I can't help but feel disappointed.
So where do we go from here? Well, I think it will be interesting to see where the series goes once the rumours of remasters or remakes drop onto the Nintendo Switch 2. I'm confident we'll be seeing new versions of The Wind Waker and Twilight Princess as they're such fan-favourite titles, and I also think that the reception around them will determine the future of the series. If the public goes wild for the 'old school' Zelda formula, then maybe Aonuma will make some slight changes back to the old way of doing things with the sequel to Tears of the Kingdom.
Here's hoping Nintendo manages to bring the essence of what makes Zelda, Zelda (or Link, Link) to the next game for the sake of all the die-hard Zelda fans out there, the ones who grew up wanting to be Link one day and the ones who still have their first copy of Adventures of Link and Majora's Mask. Sometimes, if it 'aint broke, you shouldn't fix it.
