Metroid Fusion Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 11/23/2022)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Metroid Fusion

Developer: Nintendo

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): Metroidvania

Platforms: GBA

Release Date: November 17, 2002

It’s difficult to say whether or not Metroid Fusion was Nintendo’s “plan B” if Metroid Prime had failed. Both games were released on the same day in November of 2002. Metroid Prime obviously took higher precedence over Fusion due to its status as the franchise's monumental leap into the third dimension after being absent for an entire generation. Under the general excitement for Metroid Prime, however, a malaise stemmed from a rookie developer at the helm of the ambitious project. Also, a whole generation of 3D adaptations gave us the precognitive ability to anticipate a series of transitions to 3D being less-than-adequate after so many rough ones. Metroid Fusion could’ve been a fail-safe to still maintain the reinvigorated Metroid hype if Metroid Prime affirmed the cynical notions of a choice selection of people. After all, it’s safer to build upon foundations that have already been established instead of starting from the ground floor. As it turned out, Retro Studios fired on all cylinders and crafted a spectacular 3D Metroid game and arguably the finest game that Nintendo produced for the Gamecube. Metroid Fusion became a handheld supplement for unfortunate occurrences on the road when Metroid Prime could not be played. I jest, of course, but Metroid Prime’s accolades eclipsed the impact that Metroid Fusion could’ve had. Metroid Fusion now had to prove that 2D Metroid could still coexist with its 3D twin that had surpassed it.

Metroid Fusion was still important to the franchise's evolution because it still had been eight long years since we had seen Samus, except for her role as a playable character in the first two Super Smash Bros. games. The franchise wasn’t in dire need of being revamped as Super Metroid practically perfected the rudimentary formula the NES Metroid laid out and was arguably the greatest game on the SNES. Still, eight years of gaming progress since Super Metroid’s release could’ve produced a new Metroid game whose advanced hindsight would expose all of the Super Metroid’s cracks that were not clear to gamers of the SNES era. Either that, or it could cultivate an experimental title that takes the Metroid series into a new, radical direction. Metroid Fusion proved somewhat of the latter, a sequel that deviated slightly in gameplay, atmosphere, and design philosophy while maintaining the core essence of the previously listed elements. Even though Metroid Prime had changed the course for Metroid for the foreseeable future, Metroid Fusion proved that 2D Metroid still had something new and interesting to offer.

Except for Metroid II on the original Game Boy, each subsequent game's sequential narrative has only been implied. Because Metroid Fusion was released on the same day as another Metroid game, the developers had to explicitly state that Metroid Fusion was another entry in the line of Samus’s story with the subtitle “Metroid 4” appearing in the title screen. This distinction between the 2D Metroid titles and Prime became even clearer once Prime became its own separate entity with two sequels, solidifying Metroid Fusion even deeper in the series canon with the previous titles. Metroid Fusion continues from the resolution of Super Metroid in a galaxy where Metroids are no longer a vital concern. As relieving and anticlimactic as this sounds, one must remember that space is infinite, so there could be an innumerable amount of intergalactic threats. Fusion’s face-hugger is the X, an amorphous, multi-colored parasite that feeds off its victim's DNA structure. Because their predators, the Metroids, have been eradicated, the X now run rampant due to the upset in their ecosystem. Samus almost succumbs to the draining force of the X but is saved via an inoculation containing a Metroid’s genetic material. She is sent to investigate the origin of an explosion in the abandoned BSL station where the X’s influence is a scourge on the facility. Metroid Fusion’s premise is somewhat ironic, but it still evokes chills nonetheless.

Any title on a handheld Nintendo console from a series usually seen on a home system was a case of relegation. The impetus for gaming on the go stemmed from convenience, unfortunately sacrificing the quality one would get on a home console. Super Mario Land and the Oracle games may emulate the experience effectively, but anyone who claims they are up to par with their mainline counterparts is kidding themselves. Metroid, on the other hand, seems to have a history of putting every other mainline title on a handheld console, or at least that’s the pattern I can discern. Sure, the GBA wasn’t comparable to the capabilities of the Gamecube, just as the original Game Boy couldn’t hold a candle to the NES/SNES. However, the GBA served as a turning point where its graphical prowess could compete with at least some of the home consoles, notably Nintendo’s pixelated consoles of the past. This is especially promising considering the last Metroid game was on the SNES, and a handheld Metroid could visually compete with the iconic Metroid we were familiar with without a jarring technical regression. Metroid Fusion’s pixelated graphics are as exceptional as we remembered them in Super Metroid, but there is a peculiar tone to them not seen in the previous game. The most appropriate way to describe Metroid Fusion’s graphics is…fleshy? They are bright, artful, and lurid, yet somewhat sickly and unnatural. It’s a distinct art style reminiscent of the classic anime film Akira and the album cover of Aesop Rock’s Bazooka Tooth, but I couldn’t tell you if the style had a name. All the same, it’s what slightly elevated Metroid Fusion in the visual department over Super Metroid. Eight years was all it took for a handheld game to surpass its console predecessor, a sign of gaming’s rapid growth.

Metroid Fusion does very little to deviate from Super Metroid’s gameplay, but then Super Metroid’s gameplay isn’t too dissimilar from the first Metroid. As early as the first title, Metroid crafted something unique in the 2D platformer genre and decided to persist with it for every subsequent game, even for the 3D Prime entries. Samus still acquires gadgets that help her traverse through an alien environment while blasting through a bestiary’s worth of extraterrestrial creepy crawlies using an eclectic arsenal of weapons. As stated before, Super Metroid’s gameplay formula would have withstood the test of time, yet Metroid Fusion still tweaks it slightly. For one, the X is a new type of enemy with a prevalent presence, surprisingly more so than the Metroid’s ever was in the previous games. Instead of being conveniently inserted near the end of the narrative, the X is a constant force to reckon with in every corner of the laboratory. However, Samus never fights the X directly. Strangely enough, they serve as Fusion’s source of health and replenishing ammo. Once an enemy is vanquished, the X essence floats around until Samus either latches onto it or darts off to resurrect enemies. Reanimating enemies is always an irritating factor of the X, and it’s the only instance in a video game (that I can recall) where units of health can cause harm to the player. As vexing as the X could be, I appreciate the system the developers have established using them. Three different colors of X can spawn from defeated enemies, with yellow restoring health, green restoring ammunition, and the rare red restoring an abundant amount of both. The number of restorations is significantly reduced from the bevy of ammunition types littered around Super Metroid. This coincides with Fusion’s proclivity to streamline Samus’s abilities and power-ups. Returning Metroid players might be disappointed with the lack of options Fusion presents, but I’ll gladly take it over scrolling frantically through Samus’s lengthy inventory in a pinch.

In some aspects, Metroid Fusion’s goal seems to veer towards making a more accessible Metroid experience. Stacking upgrades is one thing, but the most contentious method of accessibility the developers implemented is what they did with the game’s world design. Unlike the open-ended realm of Zebes with its interconnected districts, the BSL station takes an approach unseen in the series. Branching off of the entry point where Samus’s ship is docked are six sectors located south of the hub. Each sector varies in terrain and carries a unique set of challenges. The sectors do not overlap, and Samus returns to the hub via the same elevator she rode down on without any alternate paths available. While I understand the vocal criticisms that claim this butchers Metroid’s design philosophy, I have to disagree. Each sector’s sanctioned sandbox design still emulates how the districts of Zebes were formatted, even if all of them are enclosed. Players will still find the same amount of breakable walls, deep chasms, and tight crevices for maneuvering through with the morph ball. Not connecting the laboratory sectors almost exposes the illusion of seamless world design, something to consider when evaluating Super Metroid and Metroidvanias of the same ilk.

However, what I don’t like concerning Metroid Fusion’s design choices is how progression through these areas is executed. Metroid Fusion is brimming with exposition if the opening cutscene is any indication. Super Metroid expressed the events surrounding the game with masterful subtlety, using only two lines of spoken dialogue to set the harrowing scene and letting the gameplay and atmosphere take it from there. Zero lines of spoken dialogue are uttered through the compressed sound chip of the GBA, but there is enough text between the few characters in this game (including Samus) to fill the pages of a Hollywood script. I’m not sure if this is due to an accessibility initiative or a sign of video games becoming more dialogue-intensive since Super Metroid’s release, but Fusion’s constant need to keep the player informed on what is occurring is the antithesis of what made Super Metroid’s story impressive. Exposition infiltrates Fusion’s progression every step of the way as Samus is given a clear objective from the navigation rooms seen in each sector. Samus is then briefed by a federation official who not only explicitly marks the objective's location on the map but also asks her if she’d like her directions repeated to her a second time. How could a series that practically pioneered letting the player loose in a hostile void with unclear parameters become so patronizingly linear? As a result of dotting the trajectory for Samus, the player feels less inclined to deviate from the beaten path to find upgrades. Of course, Metroid veterans know better and will meticulously power bomb every room in a thorough search of the facility. Still, newcomers to the series will suffer from not knowing any better.

I realize that perhaps Fusion’s pension for hand-holding might be to uphold the game’s intended atmosphere. Metroid Fusion still exudes the feeling of claustrophobia, yet it stems from an entirely directional ethos. By diluting Samus’s autonomy, it creates a sensation of unease, as if she is always being watched. Samus is no longer at the mercy of the magnificent scope of outer space but a lab rat in an experiment conducted by uncaring hosts. As much as the narrative wears out its welcome, the growing mystery behind the circumstances of the explosion and the federation’s true intentions. The player’s suspicions are affirmed when Samus rejects the federation's directions and uncovers a section of Metroids that the federation was planning on releasing back into the ecosystem. Upon discovering this, the federation plans for Samus to abort the mission as they send in federation troops to finish the job, without even considering that they would all perish at the hands of the X. Metroid Fusion manages to be the most unsettling the series has ever been. While Metroid has always felt tense, Metroid Fusion feels sufficiently creepy.

Despite Metroid Fusion’s direction, by some miracle, it still manages to be more difficult than Super Metroid. Reaching the objectives isn’t any more obtuse than in previous games, although one particular section involving several bloated spike enemies and the space jump ability wore on my patience. The main reason for Fusion’s amplified difficulty is the bosses. They are why excavating the laboratory for upgrades is essential to success, even to the point where the player has to grind for them to stand a chance against the bosses. Serris X swims around the arena at breakneck speeds, the security bots only leave themselves vulnerable for a second, and I’m pretty certain that the munching jaws of the plants in the Plant Core boss room are inescapable. Ultimately, the damage output of each boss makes them so imposing, with the margin of error when fighting these bosses razor-thin. The gigantic size of bosses like the arachnid Gedo and the garishly grotesque Nightmare almost forces the player to tank an inordinate amount of damage as they ricochet off the walls like a bouncing DVD logo. The game’s obligatory Ridley encounter is possibly the hardest for any Metroid game for this reason. The bosses don’t compensate for any of the more facile aspects of the game, yet the fact that these bosses are in a game intended to be easier is a pleasant surprise.

The apex of these formidable foes and the crux of Fusion’s narrative is the SA-X, the uncanny clone of Samus conjured up by the genetic power of the X. You know how unstoppable Samus feels near the end of each Metroid game after all of her power has been recovered? That’s the potency of the SA-X, and it doesn’t have good intentions with Samus’s full potential. A sequence that introduces the SA-X, where the parasite causes devastation to a door only for the game to zoom in on its vacuous, inhuman eyes, is the best display of “show, don’t tell” the game offers. I got the impression from this scene that the SA-X would act as a persistent hunter like Nemesis or Pyramid Head, but the malevolent force only rears its unfeeling head on occasions, usually when Samus is out of sight. However, the fact that it could be lurking anywhere on the station aids the discomfort of always being watched by an omnipotent force. One exception is when the game forces the player to interact with the SA-X in close quarters, displaying how quickly it can eviscerate Samus and cause the player to wet themselves in fear. Another impression is that the SA-X must be stopped. With the power imbalance on display, the clearest overarching objective coincides with Samus’s unspoken goal of getting stronger. Fighting SA-X at the end is a cathartic duel after scurrying away from it in sheer terror for so long. For unclear reasons, the SA-X helps Samus defeat an evolved Metroid monster that keeps Samus from exiting the facility once that typical self-destruct countdown engages. Did the SA-X submit to Samus’s will after she showed it humility by defeating it, or was it something cheap in an attempt to give Fusion one last edge over Super Metroid? Considering the bosses, it’s most likely the latter.

Metroid fans could’ve simply played Metroid Prime to satisfy their deferred cravings and while it’s exciting to explore uncharted realms and possibilities, it's also imperative to get reacquainted with old ground. In saying that, the pixel art and 2D perspective were all Metroid Fusion had in common with its iconic predecessor. While its ambition to deviate from aspects seen in Super Metroid is valiant, it creates a whole new slew of perfunctory elements that still give Super Metroid the overall advantage. While Super Metroid is clearly the better game, this fact does not render Metroid Fusion insignificant or unworthy of holding Super Metroid’s mantle. For all of Metroid Fusion’s flaws, I still appreciate the finished project for its willingness to expand and innovate: the mark of a true sequel.