Some games could use a remake. Some games couldreallyuse a remake. Many neither need a remake, nor would be disserviced in any way by any attempts at one. And then, there are those games that are so immaculate by design, so thoroughly excellent at everything which they set out to do, or perhaps just so goshdarned gorgeous as-is, that no ‘fresh envisioning’ ought ever to be attempted.
Such efforts at a remake might stand on their own just fine, but in my opinion, they aren’t going to touch the original title. They can’t. Anything beyond a simple little remastering is going to lack something, by virtue ofaddingsomething. These are some of those games.
Super Metroid didn’t launch the Metroidvania genre, but it’s the game that got it right. A massive leap forward from its predecessors, Metroid and Metroid II: Return of Samus, Super Metroid revels in the formula of exploring, hitting obstacles, exploring some more, finding ways to circumvent or annihilate those obstacles, and continuing the adventure.
Every time the player gets a new power-up, the paradigm shifts - previously-inaccessible zones are cracked open like so many eggs. It’s a simple concept to write about, but Nintendo and Intelligent Systems did it so elegantly, with such a wonderfully refined audiovisual presentation, that Super Metroid has stood alongside Castlevania: Symphony of the Night as the pitch-perfect representative of its genre for decades.
Yet, even Castlevania: Symphony of the Night might benefit from some minor touch-ups and tweaks, if you ask me. Super Metroid? Not in the slightest.
I know I speak for many longtime fans of The Legend of Zelda series when I say that Breath of the Wild’s core dungeons are disappointingly lacking. How, then, can it appear on a list such as this one? Because The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild does precisely what it sets out to do, from top to bottom, from Great Plateau to the distant islands at the very edge of its post-apocalyptic Hyrule.
It does it all, and it does so in such a vivid flourish, that the game has triggered a real twist in creative approach for myriad developers since it took the world by storm in 2017. Breath of the Wild’s sense of exploration is tremendous.
It is sublimely atmospheric, and there is always a reason to move on, to see what awaits along the horizon - yet, crucially, there are often plenty of reasons to just hang out right where you are, to soak in the sights, to ponder whether another Sheikah Shrine is hiding nearby, to admire the excellently-delivered ambition behind BOTW’s every beat.
Tears of the Kingdom exists, of course. And it, too, is fantastic. Some will argue that Tears is something of a Breath of the Wild remake in and of itself. I guess I kind of get that angle, but there’s no reinventing the wheel here. The Hyrule which Nintendo delivered the first time around - even if it has, indeed, been remixed just six years later - can never be truly recaptured in the years to come.
We’ve had to combine these two brilliant 3D platformers into a single entry because my rationale for their appearance is identical between the pair: sterling presentation. Super Mario Galaxy’s spectacularly colourful art style is timelessly endearing.
Super Mario 64 looks nice, though it’s obviously struck by substantial hardware limitations. Super Mario Sunshine looks all the nicer, but it’s notquitethere yet, and its all-encompassingly tropical theme holds it back from a more diverse picture. Super Mario Galaxy, for all its clear-cut space-centric presentation, nevertheless thrives on a more diverse set of tiny biomes. Crucially, every single one is a feast for the eyes.
The sequel, Super Mario Galaxy 2? All the more so. This is a game of more, more, more. More of Galaxy’s lushness. More ambitious platforming is found across a larger number of worlds. Combined, Super Mario Galaxy and Super Mario Galaxy 2 remain, in my mind, the pinnacle of their genre. And, while remasters can help it all to pop ever more so, a full-blown remake? I can’t say it doing a single thing to help.
For all I just said about Super Mario Galaxy, you’re able to dang near double that. Okami isgorgeous. Breathtaking. It has held up so, so, well in this regard. What else is there to say? Don’t just look at the pic I chose. Look everywhere. Search for images by the hundreds. Or maybe you’ve played it, in which case, I seriously hope you know exactly what I’m talking about.
This is an art style that would sell copies at a museum gala. This is something that I look at to this day, 20 years later, in awe. Remaking Okami would be like remaking Hokusai’s ‘The Great Wave off Kanagawa’. Which, I guess has been done quite a few times. But those never sell as well as reproductions of the original, and why would they?
I’m a big fan of remakes as a concept. I support them more frequently than some. But you’re able to’t reimagine a game that looks like Okami without losingsomething.
Now, this one’s ironic. Yuji Horii recently let slip that a Chrono Trigger remake is evidently in the works. He later “clarified” that it’s only a strong consideration, but I don’t think it’ll surprise anybody familiar with the now-famous slip-up if we eventually learn that it’s been in the works for years.
And the irony grows ever deeper.I look forward to the Chrono Trigger remake. Honest-to-goodness, I’ll play the ever-living heck out of it. But we never needed it. Not in the least. The late, great Akira Toriyama’s artwork shines to a mirror sheen 30 years later and counting. 2D pixel games have always had a leg up on their 3D competition in terms of that more timeless visual aesthetic, but Chrono Trigger remains one of the most captivating examples in the history of this medium.
The gameplay’s pitch-perfect, too. The battle system, while relatively simple, never loses me for a second. It’s tuned just right, it gives just the right amount of freedom, it’s got it all. The music? Goodness gracious, Yasunori Mitsuda seldom misses, but out of everything I’ve heard from him, only Xenogears' score comes close overall. And the pacing, Oh, the pacing. I adore long-as-heck JRPGs, but Chrono Trigger’s a brisk thrill ride, start to finish. Flawless stuff.
My top two picks are as straightforward as they come. Pong is Pong. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not the first video game ever made. But it is among the first commercially successful titles, perhaps eventhefirst.
Two players, or one player against a CPU. Two paddles. One ball. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forthsome more. Get the ball past your opponent. Get 11 points and win. Or your foe gets 11 first, in which case, sure enough, you lose.
Pong is like Snake. How would you remake Snake?Whywould you remake Snake? OK, so, yes, full disclosure here -Pong: The Next Level already exists. It has, in fact, existed since 1999. It didn’t pan out too well. In fact, I’ve played it, and I think it sucks.
You can make a shinier Pong. You can make a prettier Pong. You can add an amazing soundtrack. You can pack in a free ticket to Disney World for all I care. But you can’t aim to remake it, to really remake it, and do anything of note in the process.
And then there’s Tetris.
Tetris has been remade dozens of times. To do precisely as I outlined above. Prettier, by far. Bopping songs, galore. But it’s still Tetris. It’s always going to be Tetris. It’s been taken in plenty of separate directions by a bevy of developers. Puyo Puyo, Dr. Mario, Dr. Robotnik’s Mean Bean Machine, just to name a few. But the core tenets of Tetris itself are - look, I know I’ve wielded the word twice already, but they are unequivocallytimeless.
Here’s something funny about me. To many, it’s downright bewildering. How can anybody not like Tetris? I don’t like Tetris. It gives me anxiety in ways that no other video game ever has, and I’m not sure any future game ever will. It doesn’t do anything for me at all.
Even so, if there’s one perfect video game in this universe, it’s Tetris. It does everything it sets out to do, and it does so with aplomb. For many millions of gamers, it’s unbeatable. For me, it’s unplayable. That doesn’t mean it isn’t impeccable.
