Well look man, I'm trying to minimize my complaints so you don't feel I'm insulting something you're defending. Don't throw it back in my face.
well, sorry--i'm just letting you know that i don't disagree with the entirety of your post
i feel like you have some valid concerns and unique takeaways, but as soon as you started questioning the game's tone, i just wasn't sure how you could've missed so many things, which i'm prepared to go over exhaustively
i'm glad you brought romani ranch up and finished the alien invasion quest--that section will come into play later
This is the biggest bone of contention I've had in reading about the game. There's really no in-game evidence to suggest MM is some sort of dream or deathbed fantasy; the Hyrule Historia seems to consider it as a real occurrence
bear in mind that there
was no hyrule historia at the time of this game's release, and the established timeline--while indisputably canon--does contain various contradictions, as a result of eiji aonuma
et al never really having a rigidly defined timeline for the series in the first place
the minish cap is one of the earliest stories, placed in an era before ganondorf even existed--yet there are moblins in that game, which are monsters created by ganon
specifically in his image, so... how do you explain that? just don't think about it
or maybe because it's the
legend of zelda, and the games are simply retellings of older stories--and the more legends get passed down, the more exaggerated or inaccurate certain elements will become, etc.
regardless, i find that zelda games are best enjoyed as singular, standalone experiences--like i said, the games
typically don't have continuity in mind anyway, unless it's a direct sequel
It really does feel really upbeat in pretty much every location I've been to -- yeah, there's some scared people or others gleefully ignoring impending doom, but the tension is undercut by the complete lack of stakes.
I don't know what you mean, to be honest.
The moon is threatening to fall and destroy Termina, and its fate rests solely in the hands of a
ten year old boy who has the ability to move through time. He can go back three days all he wants, but that alone isn't going to get him anywhere--literally. He still has to make a pilgrimage to these four temples and slay all the cursed beasts that lurk within. Slowing the passage of time can make things easier for him, but the fact remains that if he doesn't slay the beast in time--
before it slays him--everyone else will die a burning death, too.
Going back in time is merely a neutralizer--it doesn't really lessen the tension at all, because no problems have been solved. In fact, everything gets reset. You could be in the middle of a dungeon and have to reset, because you're already well into the third night. That shit can get intense. So I'm really not sure what stakes you're not seeing here.
Look, I don't see it as a contest, but everywhere I read the recurring line is that MM is so dark and depressing, but I've found the NPCs and world to be a lot more fun and upbeat than OoT.
H'okay, gotta stretch out a bit for this next one. I'm gonna try to list off
all the dark shit in the game up to where you're currently at, because I never wanna read the sentence "Majora's Mask is upbeat" ever again:
Before the game even begins,
the first thing we see is a pitch-dark screen with a large mask floating into the frame. This creates a low, bassy
whoosh noise--it's disquieting. It lets you know right away that this game is headed towards some spooky territory.
The rest of the intro is fairly upbeat, I'll give you that--however, I always thought that the theme of Clock Town had an undeniable sense of glib sadness about it. But that's pretty subjective--my aim here is to list things that are
indisputably dark in tone, or at least help to create that effect.
At the start of the game, after Link takes a tumble into that 2001 tree, Skull Kid's character is finally introduced to us.
And it turns out, he's a big bully. Not only does he steal Link's ocarina, he steals Epona as well--Link's best and only real companion--while heavily implying that he did something cruel to her.
"What's with that stupid horse of yours? It doesn't listen to a word I said to it. There's no point in riding a thing like that. So I did you a favor and got rid of it." "Got rid of it" could mean anything--either way, the horse is stated to be gone, and the bullying doesn't end there. On a whim, he transforms Link into a helpless Deku Scrub--
which is a very disturbing sequence in and of itself--and proceeds to leave him there by his miserable lonesome, laughing hysterically.
Everything about this scene is demoralizing as fuck.
Skull Kid's theme plays throughout the sequence, creating a nasty, bone-chilling atmosphere. The transformation sequence itself, with the dark lighting, strange camera angles, and bizarre imagery, was enough to give some children nightmares. It's just a really dark and cynical way to open your game, let alone a Zelda game. It cuts to the player's core by taking away
possession (ocarina),
loved one (Epona), and
identity, and Link is left a hollow husk--literally--of what he used to be.
Then we have ourselves the Happy Mask Salesman--a perturbing fellow who presents Link with his mission--
casually--and greets you with the arc words,
"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"His expressions, combined with his
disturbed, half-hearted chuckle--especially the way it reverberates--create a palpable sense of foreboding that lingers. The salesman may or may not be a little mad (as in crazy), and you don't even know if you can trust him. Nonetheless, he almost has this uncanny yet quasi-godlike
je ne sais quoi about him. It's creepy. It's interesting. It's a little on the dark side. You won't find him in a fucking Kirby game.
Also, again--I gotta stress the lighting here. It's not the kind of atmosphere you'd want at a tea party.
So, as you're exploring Clock Town for the first time, it becomes abundantly clear to you why you only have three days to complete your task. When you look up, you catch a frightening sight--the moon is mere miles away from the earth. The expression on its face could read as fear, anguish, or lividity. Either way, it's a discomforting sight, and it only gets closer and closer as the days go by--threatening to crash into the world, commencing apocalyptica. If you had your ocarina with you, you could easily prevent this from happening--but if you fail, this will happen:
Which speaks for itself. I won't insult your intelligence and explain to you why this scene isn't sunshine and rainbows.
The reason the moon has that expression is because the designers wanted to leave an imprint in your mind. They wanted to make it so that the moon is able to be seen no matter where you are in the game--allowing it to serve as a constant, looming reminder of your most critical mission. This creates a sense of dread, urgency and, of course, an inimitably dour atmosphere. We're not frolicking in Mushroom Kingdom.
As the moon draws nearer, everything in the game starts responding. The visuals get darker, the townsfolk become restless, and your surroundings even begin to glow blood red on the third night. The music, too--remember how I mentioned how the Clock Town theme has a sense of sadness about it earlier? Well, the reprise of the Clock Town theme on the
second and
especially the
third days introduce some minor-key elements which could be described, from a music theory perspective, as
objectively darker than the initial theme.
When the second day ends, a unique visual effect happens involving the harrowing sound of the Clock Town bell.
Which is the creepiest fucking bell EVER, by the way. It's audible no matter where you are in the game, and it sends chills down my spine every time I hear it. Anyway, when the second day ends, the screen starts shrinking in time with the bell tolls. This is one of my favorite "little things" about the game. It's scary when it happens, because it symbolizes the sand in Link's hourglass beginning to deplete, quickly, one
ba-dung! at a time. This, of course, plays into the game's sunny atmosphere as well.
When the third day fades into night, the music just...
stops. You hear nothing but crickets, torches, and other ambient noises as you try to find that goddamn Moon's Tear. You're officially running out of time, so the music stops, as if to say,
"Where are you? What's taking you so long? I thought you were supposed to be the hero?"Then, if you take longer still, you hear what is possibly the darkest Zelda theme in the entire franchise:
No longer does the music have any semblance of levity--just sheer, despondent hopelessness. This is the song of
all happiness in the world snuffing out. What some may interpret as a sense of fear from this song, I actually detect a sense of acceptance, too; the hero is absent, and the moon is inches away from destroying everything--but it's as though the world humbly accepts its fate, in the same way a skydiver might when his parachute malfunctions, and he's given a moment's peace to accept his impending death. Not a happy thought. It's actually the most depressing song I've ever heard that was published by Nintendo of all companies--it's gorgeous.
I've went over most of the general stuff, so at this point, I think I can start going into some specific moments as well.
The game's entire plot, depending on how you look at it, could be seen as terribly depressing in and of itself. As you help your fellow townsfolk with their problems, you reap your rewards and immediately go back in time--resetting all your good deeds. The fact that you
like all the townsfolk, and you
want to help them, only exacerbates the futility of your actions. While you know deep down that the rewards you reap will only help you on your critical path in the long-term, you can't help but think the entire thing is all for naught--and this, by your own admission, is a pretty sad state of affairs.
If you try to complete all the sidequests in a single three-day cycle, you'll be able to do a surprisingly high number of them--but you won't be able to finish them all. There are certain scheduled events that overlap, and if you want to be as good of a Samaritan as possible, you'll have to make a few sacrifices. Link cannot save everybody by himself--not even with all the time in the world; he's still only human. (he's actually not human but you know what i mean)
This theme of futility is ever-present--and it's quite the depressing message to send to kids, even though it's all too true in the real world. There's simply not enough time in the world to save everybody on your own. If that's not dark, I don't know what is--and I do.
Let's take a trip here for a second. You have a little girl who lives with big sister on the farm. She's seen aliens before, but big sister doesn't believe her--so she asks you to help her take them out when the sun comes down. Scary proposition, but not what I want to focus on. Failing this mission results in the girl getting abducted. When she returns, she's left with a vacant expression on her face--memory completely wiped--big sister emotionally crushed that she didn't listen to her earlier.
That's unsettling on its own, but it's nothing compared to this: if you save the ranch from the aliens and visit the sisters on the third night, you can trigger an exchange that wrenches at your heart when you realize the implications.
In Zelda, there exists a beverage called Chateau Romani. Which is beer. It's basically just beer, or some kind of alcoholic, inebriating substance. Characters drink it and they become intoxicated--Gorman, the ornery Luigi-looking fellow, actually appears to have a drinking problem; you can see him at the milk bar drinking away his sorrows after he learns of the carnival's cancellation. His dialogue during this part is... less coherent than that of a sober person, shall we say.
Anyway, back to the ranch. On the third night, you can find the two sisters in the barn, tending to one of the cows. If you talk to little sister, she'll say,
"We're milking the cows tonight! It's 'Chateau Romani.' It's the first time I get to drink it! Until now, my sister always said 'Wait until you're an adult.'
But why now?" Big sister responds only with three sets of ellipses.
Later in the conversation, she'll say,
"Sleep with me in my bed tonight, OK, Romani?"As you've noticed, Cremia, the big sister, is one of the few characters in the game who isn't blithely unaware of Termina's impending doom. In contrast, she's actually staunchly aware of the moon's descent, and she fears for her and her sister's life--but she knows in her heart that there'll be no escape from their destruction. The last thing she says before entering her house is,
"See you...tomorrow...OK?" while Romani cheerfully adds,
"See you tomorrow!"This whole exchange seems to suggest that Cremia had her little sister drink the Chateau Romani in order to
dull her senses so that she would be remain blissfully unaware of their fiery doom--the implications of which speak for themselves. That's some
insanely dark shit for a Nintendo game.
I could go on and on and on, dude--it doesn't end there. That's not even touching upon the rest of the game, or even the five stages of grief thing that I'm sure you've read about. It also doesn't touch upon any of the minor characters and their darker moments--of which there are countless. I think I've brought up enough stuff to make my point, though--all these things work together to create an extraordinarily dark atmosphere for a Nintendo game.
If you don't see how any of the things I mentioned could be considered dark, I genuinely don't know what to say, really. Much of what I brought up is psychological--I can describe with precise verbiage how the game makes ME feel, but I can't in any way make you feel the same way I do. In general, if you still don't think the game is dark, I'd say that MAYBE you have unrealistic expectations of how dark a Rated E video game by Nintendo can get.
Me, personally, it's the kind of game I can only play in a certain mood, and specifically at night only. It's one of
those games--I'd play it on Halloween, because the aesthetic just fits so well. The game DOES have its lighthearted moments, but they're all overshadowed by the mountains of cold, dour, depressing shit that comprise its lore and thematic structure.
I'm glad you're enjoying yourself with the game overall. But to call the game's atmosphere "upbeat," to me, shows a
massive disconnect with how the entire game is designed. It's about as cheerful as Dark Souls, in my eyes. Yeah, I'll go there.
Show Posts
