(Originally published to Glitchwave on 12/31/2022)
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The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Developer: Nintendo
Publisher: Nintendo
Genre(s): Action-Adventure
Platforms: GCN, Wii
Release Date: November 19, 2006
When Twilight Princess was released, the game was met with positive reception all around, including that of the disgruntled faction of fans. Twilight Princess was praised for acting as a loyal follow-up to Ocarina's core essence and narrative arc. It was the antithesis of The Wind Waker in aesthetic and ethos, making that game null and void in the eyes of many now that a “worthy” delegate had appeared to represent The Legend of Zelda past the primitive 3D era. Ocarina fanboys could shut their traps now that Nintendo made a game to pacify them, and they remained content for years. After some time passed, however, the general public started to view Twilight Princess in a different light. Nowadays, Majora’s Mask and The Wind Waker are both commended for their initiative in taking Ocarina of Time’s gameplay and narrative and expanding on it creatively, while Twilight Princess is often derided for not weaning itself off of Ocarina’s teat. Even during Twilight Princesses release, some of the detractors underwhelmed by Wind Waker still weren’t satisfied with Twilight Princess because it was too similar to Ocarina, and now they retroactively malign Ocarina for “ruining the franchise” because of the stagnating template it serves as. Jesus Tapdancing Christ, people. Would their complaints be quelled if Nintendo just ported an enhanced version of Ocarina for every new console? Actually, Master Quest did splendidly on the Gamecube, now that I think about it, but Nintendo would be damned to let these vocal dissenters keep Zelda in a cyclical loop until the end of days. Admittedly, Twilight Princess is explicitly more like Ocarina than the previous two 3D Zelda games. However, Twilight Princess is not some cheap imitation with glossier graphics. Twilight Princess overtly expands on Ocarina’s setting, themes, and progression and almost surpasses its obvious inspiration. Almost.
We can assume that the developers attempted to make Ocarina of Time look as realistic as humanly possible with the primitive graphical capabilities of 3D technology. Two generations later, developers no longer needed to use pre-rendered backgrounds to mask the unrefined polygonal textures of Nintendo’s first 3D system. The land of Hyrule in Twilight Princess upholds a cohesive graphical fidelity without using awkward, albeit endearing, pre-rendered backgrounds as the bandages to patch the visual blemishes. What Twilight Princess chooses to display with generations of polygonal progress is a tad drab, to say the least. Any team of developers that strives to craft a game with “realistic graphics” always seems to lack the hindsight that in time, the visuals will age as gracefully as a withered prune. This problem became prevalent in the sixth generation of gaming as the refurbished 3D graphics gave developers enough confidence to earnestly render proportional human bodies and facial features with its characters. Sadly, except for Resident Evil 4, most games of the sixth generation that attempted to depict a sense of realism in their visuals now look shockingly crude. Alternately, games of this generation that adopted a more stylishly splendorous art direction, The Wind Waker as a prime example, could arguably contend with the graphics of games being released at the time I’m writing this. Every 3D game of the fifth generation looked primitive regardless of the developer’s artistic intentions, so it’s difficult to discern whether Ocarina and Majora’s Mask's rough aesthetical charm is a fortuitous coincidence. Given the severe backlash The Wind Waker received, because many felt that a cartoonish aesthetic wasn’t appropriate for a fantasy epic as opposed to Ocarina, we can infer that Twilight Princess is the logical evolution to Ocarina’s graphical tone. If this is the case, I fail to see the grandiosity of depleted colors, murky tints, and flat textures. Maybe I can blame Resident Evil 4 for popularizing realistic visuals that look victim to historic flooding, persisting for an entire generation. Still, I think it’s funny that The Wind Waker, a game derided for its visuals, looks far better than what Ocarina would most likely have looked like if it wasn’t on Nintendo’s first (competent) 3D console.
I suppose I should’ve made a disclaimer earlier that I have only played the Wii version of Twilight Princess, and it’s the version I’m basing this review on. Both the Gamecube and Wii versions of Twilight Princess are equally as definitive because they were released on the same day. In some cases, however, the exact same game is made radically different between the two because of the controls. The Gamecube version plays it safe by copying from the control scheme of The Wind Waker, an advantage of being the second Zelda title on the same console. The Wii version did not have the same privilege as it was assigned the daunting task of proving the functionality of the console’s main motion-control-centric peripheral. Considering how fervid Zelda fans tend to be regarding the sanctity of the franchise's foundation, implementing motion controls for a mainline Zelda title at the Wii’s inception demonstrated some seriously brass, meteor-sized balls on Nintendo. It didn’t help that fellow Wii launch title Red Steel, was doing its best to affirm people’s skepticism that motion controls were an ill-conceived idea. Unlike Red Steel, Twilight Princess succeeded by keeping the motion controls simple. Link’s primary weapon of choice already somewhat resembles the Wiimote, and all the player has to do is swing it gingerly to execute a sword swipe. Attaching the nunchuck to the Wiimote provides full analog control, Z-targeting, and a few extra moves with the sword. It’s mandatory to use the nunchuck to play the game, but my intention in highlighting its capabilities is to showcase how simple, and accessible Twilight Princess's control scheme is on the Wii despite how unorthodox and intimidating the Wii’s controller first seems. Swiping the sword while locking onto enemies usually resulted in Link doing that stab move multiple times instead of slashing vertically as he normally would, however. Fun fact: the Wii version’s map is mirrored as a roundabout way to shift Link’s usual left-handed sword wielding to the right to accommodate western players who are typically right-handed. A citation is needed for how Nintendo came to this conclusion, for my ambidextrous American self probably could’ve handled it. Still, I suppose holding the Wiimote in one’s left hand to retain Link’s preferred placement would’ve been awkward.
Nintendo was obviously confident in the Wii’s controls because the Wii version of Twilight Princess continues The Wind Waker’s greater emphasis on combat just as the Gamecube version does. The Wind Waker advanced Link’s fighting prowess because the rudimentary basics of 3D combat were established in Ocarina, and now they could revel in the potential finesse of using a sword. Even with motion controls at the helm of Link’s kinetic abilities, Nintendo assured that they wouldn’t regress the series. Twilight Princess is the first 3D Zelda game where Link doesn’t possess a playable instrument in his inventory. The method in which Twilight Princess transfers the music mechanic is rather unconventional, as is the way it expands on Link’s abilities with the sword. Howling Stones are small, arcane-looking structures with hollow circles in the middle, found erected from the ground on hills and other elevated stretches of land. Approaching these as Wolf Link will cause him to howl a familiar little tune that reverberates across the sky, but only if the player can memorize the three notes variables along with how long they are sustained. Echoing the melodies of Hyrule’s past will transport Wolf Link to the heavens of Hyrule, where a glowing, golden wolf joins Link in a chorus of howls and then requests that Link meet him somewhere on Hyrule’s map. Upon meeting the wolf, he’ll lunge at Link and transport him to an incorporeal realm where he reveals his true form as a skeletal warrior with hulking armor. Rumors speculate that this is the undead spirit form of Link from Ocarina and Majora’s Mask. Yet, I only remember the Wind Waker Link having masterful dexterity with a sword. Either or, the adroit ghoul will teach Link one move with the sword per Howling Stone.
Some learnable skills like the Jump Strike and Helm Splitter are taken directly from Wind Waker, only now they no longer have to be an opportunistic rebuttal to a countering strike from an enemy. Comparing how these skills were utilized in The Wind Waker, Twilight Princess approaches these skills even more tepidly than the previous game. The series pension for lenient damage intake still doesn’t foster the capabilities of Link’s newfound combat aptitude, and at least using these moves as counterattacks in The Wind Waker required more skill from the player. Link can still mow down armies of moblins with only one heart container depleted. The game never adds greater combat challenges because unlocking these moves are optional. Why wouldn’t the player want to execute flashy, gymnastic feats to defeat foes? Combat is still fluid and responsive even with motion controls, and I suppose I can be thankful for this all things considered. It’s still disappointing, considering there was nothing suppressive about the motion controls anyways, so they could’ve offered a meatier combat experience once again and didn’t.
Motion controls also translate well for many other tools in Link’s arsenal. The “mote” part of the Wii controller’s cutesy nickname connotes pointing it at the TV like a remote control. This peripheral function makes it perfect for aiming, which fits perfectly for the slingshot, bow and arrow, and clawshots. When these weapons are equipped, a conspicuous red target is shown on the screen, which helps the player guide their aim, with a yellow indicator present for clearer accuracy. The lantern from the top-down games makes its 3D debut here, illuminating dark passageways and igniting candles with a finite oil source that can be refueled at certain cauldrons or for a small fee from a guy with an afro in the Faron Woods. The Iron Boots feature new magnetic properties, and Link doubles his clawshots akimbo style, latching onto a series of scaffoldings and moving around like Spiderman. If the extra additions to familiar items sound like a tantalizing evolution, wait until you see the new items. Twilight Princess offers a varied array of new toys that stretch beyond the expectations of what is possible for Link to use on his quest. The Gale Boomerang is a blustering rendition of the regular ol’ boomerang that sucks in foes with its miniature cyclone grip and manipulates wind-power turbines connected to platforms and locked doors. The Hawkeye increases Link’s accuracy with the bow to the extent of a sniper rifle, and flailing the barbarically large Ball and Chain around demolishes both enemies and weathered structures. The most outlandish of these new items is the Spinner, a top that Link rides on that carries him through a series of grids off the sides of walls. Needless to say, it’s a fan-favorite item. 2006 marked a burgeoning future for the Zelda franchise, and these new items are this pinnacle. They are a blast to use, and the game gives them plenty of implementation.
Twilight Princess also introduces the matter of controlling Wolf Link, Link’s dimensional counterpart similar to his bunny form in the Dark World of A Link to the Past. Unlike the docile rabbit representing Link’s purity of heart, Twilight Princess sees Link transform into a carnivorous creature that coincides with this game’s prophetic notion that a mangy beast would aid in saving the land from evil’s grasp. The player will become efficiently acquainted with Wolf Link early in the game through consistent use. After a certain point in the game, the ability to organically switch between Link’s two forms is unlocked. Naturally, Wolf Link possesses certain qualities that human Link does not, including remembering smells, following a scent trail, and talking to animals. Link’s partner is only corporeal, while Link is a wolf which allows her to direct Link onto a series of high reaches and perform an attack that targets multiple foes while locked to a spatial radius. Swiping the Wiimote like a sword swing will cause Wolf Link to leap at an enemy, and pressing the A button will execute a larger leap that also adds Wolf Link lunging his teeth into an enemy for extra damage. It’s not as natural a translation as the Wiimote to the sword, but it still functions properly. Wolf Link was marketed as Twilight Princess's central gimmick, something unseen in the franchise used as an eye-catching hook to differentiate between this game and the older ones. However, those of us who remember Majora’s Mask beg to differ on Wolf Link’s supposed ingenuity. Wolf Link functions the same as any of the transformation masks in Majora’s Mask, a means to diversify the gameplay engaged through circumstantial moments. Wolf Link is satisfactory because he doesn’t become the game's focal point, a reasonable trade-off for mixing new forms of gameplay with the old.
The last time we saw the land of Hyrule in its traditional form, it was a vacuous field of nothing but grass with only slight peaks of hilly elevation. It was nothing but a monotonous, bland valley between the districts that fall under the same jurisdiction. Surprisingly, I often see the same criticisms for Hyrule Field in Twilight Princess, even though the developers have mended this problem sufficiently. Hyrule Field is not intended to be congested with creatures or off-road attractions, for a hub should still act as a median point separating all notable areas of interest. Besides simply increasing the size of Hyrule Field, the addition of trees, bridges, rivers, varied terrain, and consistent enemy placements on the map makes Hyrule Field mirror the similarities of the rolling, commodious badlands seen in the real world. Another change that aids Hyrule Field feeling more natural is that the nucleus of Hyrule has been shifted to Castle Town, the metropolitan capital of Hyrule that mirrors the marketplace from Ocarina, only busier with more expansive urbanity. If Castle Town is a more adequate nucleus due to its epicenter nature, then Hyrule Field functions well as its metaphorical outer wall.
All of the branching districts of Hyrule we’re familiar with from games prior are far more realized than they were in Ocarina, and this isn’t because of the graphical enhancements. Kakariko Village is a dusty wasteland that actually looks like it resides below a volcano, and the trek up Death Mountain to the Goron’s civilization feels substantially more harrowing. Lake Hylia is a behemoth basin situated so deep in the sunken crevices of Hyrule that Link must plunge into it from atop a bridge. The only means of returning from it is via being shot out of a comically-sized cannon. The Sacred Grove near the Faron Woods is even more mysterious than the Lost Woods, and the Gerudo Desert is particularly arid in its atmosphere and layout. These landmark Hyrule destinations are now incredibly fleshed out and detailed, thanks to years of progress in gaming hardware. My only slight grievance pertaining to neo-Hyrule is with poor Epona. Riding around Hyrule’s hub on Link’s trusty steed was a lifesaver in Ocarina, but her time in Twilight Princess is entirely situational in the early game. At the halfway point, Link’s partner grants him the ability to mitigate travel with a warp option, and as much as I adore Epona, warping around pretty much any location on the map is too convenient. Link can’t even summon Epona unless he finds a blade of grass to blow her song into that is only found in certain spots, and the horse whistle item that gives him full access isn’t given to him until very late in the game. Uh…thanks? I hate to say it, but the ol’ gal would be more useful at a glue factory.
With all of the enhancements Twilight Princess implements in mind, it should be a no-brainer that it excels over Ocarina of Time. Unfortunately, Twilight Princess exudes other undesirable traitsTwilight Princess mainly falters in its attempt to outshine Ocarina because its initiative to broaden Ocarina’s properties tends to bloat the narrative. Every new Zelda adventure begins with our hero, Link, in his humble place of origin before his existence is elevated by prophetic circumstances. Link is not a preadolescent boy in Twilight Princess but a young man in his late teenage years, similar to the age he was in his adult form in Ocarina. He also lives among other human beings as a country bumpkin in the rustic southern district of Ordon instead of fraternizing with the stunted Kokiri elves that reside in the shadiest parts of the forest. I guess the reveal that Link is a Hylian instead of a Kokiri is the Zelda equivalent of revealing Samus as a woman: it’s a revelation that is effective only once. Because Link is an adult throughout the entirety of this iteration, he is tied to more labor-intensive obligations, unlike his child predecessors, who sat around idly twiddling their thumbs until opportunity struck. The unfortunate aspect of Link’s farm-centric adulthood is that it has to be subjected to the player. The player spends the first hour or so of Twilight Princess performing Link’s chores and other mundane tasks, such as herding some stubborn goats into a pen, retrieving a bassinet that fell into a river, and returning a cat to its owner by catching the cat a fish that it covets. Fishing in Twilight Princess is reasonably more functional than it was in Ocarina, but the game still makes the mistake of emulating the tedious wait of catching a fish similar to real life. Grab a beer or another frosty beverage because it’s going to be a while. I understand that the impetus of this prologue is to highlight the juxtaposition between Link’s humdrum lifestyle and the epic scope of the hero’s journey he will partake in for the duration of the game. Still, Ocarina and Wind Waker already accomplished this without an elongated slog of boring tedium. It’s an off-putting way of introducing the game that excruciatingly drags on for far too long.
Starting slowly with the prologue at least gives the player the benefit of the doubt that once it’s over, the rest of the game’s momentum will rocket into the stratosphere without fizzing out and plummeting. Unfortunately, they’d be wrong. The prologue is emblematic of Twilight Princess’s pacing issues. While none of the pacing upsets in Twilight Princess delve as deep into being mind-numbing as the prologue, hefty exposition is often inserted in between dungeons. Any Zelda veteran will express that the dungeons are the piece de resistance of The Legend of Zelda, and any Zelda game that meanders from the dungeons for lengthy periods has to compensate with something substantial like in Majora’s Mask. It also helped that the side content in Majora’s Mask can be approached with an illusion of freedom that comes with the three-day cycle. Twilight Princess, on the other hand, forces the player through long swathes of restricted linearity supported by the narrative, especially in the earlier sections of the game.
Link’s call to adventure is relatively exciting at first as the backwoods rube gets an opportunity to deliver a package to Castle Town, the big apple of Hyrule, where Zelda resides. His golden ticket is granted to him a bit unceremoniously with a knock on the head by a band of Moblins that ransack Link’s village and kidnap every child resident. He attempts to save the children when he awakens from his stupor. As he furthers closer into a mystifying light their captors have entered, he alarmingly transforms into a wolf and gets captured himself. Inside the cell his captors have tossed him, a peculiarly curvy imp named Midna rescues Link from the lonesome prison in exchange for his servitude. The imp rides around on Link like a toddler does the family dog through the sewers and across the castle rooftops until they reach Zelda’s chamber. The series' titular princess is seen leaning over a window in her quarters, veiled in a cloak to either protect her from the outside elements or conceal her identity. Light and dark have converged over Hyrule and have blanketed the land in an otherworldly mystical…well, twilight. The culprit is Zant, who usurped Zelda’s throne and reduced Hyrule’s denizens to ephemeral spirits that wisp in the glow of twilight. With Midna’s guidance, Link must return the favor to Zant and restore Hyrule to its regal, prosperous self.
The restoration process of Hyrule is what the content between dungeons is mostly comprised of early in the game. Link and Midna seek out the Tears of Light, globules composed of both light and liquid found within the insides of Shadow Insects scattered around the Twilight Realm. After collecting sixteen tears per district in the luminescent grapevine called the Vessel of Light, the district’s respective light spirit will use the completed set to reinvigorate that district to its original earthly state. Because the Twilight Realm encapsulates the district before its reformation, the player is meant to complete this task as Wolf Link without the ability to revert back to his human self until the process is done. The Shadow Insects also can only be detected via the keener sense of a canine, so human Link would be hopelessly clueless anyways. Still, these sections of Twilight Princess feel awfully restrictive. As stated before, Wolf Link’s effectiveness as an alternate form of Link is in diversifying the gameplay, not supplementing it. Human Link develops and adapts like in any other Zelda game, while Wolf Link’s base attributes are never upgraded or expanded upon. Sure, Wolf Link is utilized throughout the game, and his instinctual talents are always an asset. In saying this, the nature of Wolf Link is still a curse, and a prevalent facet of this curse is feeling less capable as a quadrupedal animal rather than a human being with flexible limbs and opposable thumbs. Once the player descends into the pernicious air of the Twilight Realm, there is no escape until the mission is complete, meaning that there is no chance to abscond from the confined path the game places for the player. The freedom of exploration that Zelda fostered in its early days has been stifled exponentially.
One aspect of these sections that I enjoy is the Twilight Realm's atmosphere. It suspends Hyrule in a state of still purgatory, ethereally depicting Hyrule as if it were a dream. Matter flows upward like rainfall in reverse, and the outside light that permeates through the conductive color prisms creates a tint of sepia tone to add to the realm’s mystical nature. The spirits of human beings seen in this state are not the spectral remnants of the deceased, but their greenish, feathery forms that lack a mortal substratum look as if they could disseminate into the ether of the Twilight Realm at any given moment. Perhaps the spirits are willfully wispy as a means of protection, hiding away from the grizzly Shadow Beasts and aerial Shadow Kargaroks that patrol the Twilight Realm’s haunting grounds. The Twilight Realm is controlled chaos in that anything tangible in reality seems to hold no substance or dominion. The stillness and dearth of organic substance evoke a potent melancholy fitting for the land’s common quest of collecting tears. Some claim the Twilight Realm gives credence to giving Twilight Princess the title of the darkest Zelda game, but I still have to make an objection using Majora’s Mask as an example. The intended aura of gloominess conveyed through the Twilight Realm is effective, but it falters compared to the creepy subtleties from Majora’s Mask that get under my skin. It’s like comparing The Crow to the works of the Marquis de Sade, and the more disturbing content of the latter is likely to stick with you rather than the portentous former.
Thankfully once the player accomplishes bringing gleaming hope to Hyrule, they are treated to the greatest lineup of dungeons seen across the entire series. Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: Link must conquer three dungeons in the former half of the game with elemental themes coinciding with the various races around Hyrule. The first three dungeons here even follow the direct course from Ocarina as the order is a forestry tree dungeon first, molten Goron dungeon second, and watery Zora dungeon as last. Even though we’ve seen this trajectory countless times at this point, it does mean that Twilight Princess is bereft of fresh ideas. These dungeons are more complex and varied than the Ocarina counterparts they draw comparisons from. The Forest Temple (no relation to the one from Ocarina) involves rescuing a group of caged monkeys that aid Link by creating a makeshift monkey rope that gets longer for each monkey Link saves, helping him over the dungeon’s spacious gaps. Goron Mines is a more linear dungeon, but magnetizing the iron boots and trekking through the mines while defying gravity is too cool. Lakebed Temple is a culmination of the centralized design of the Water Temple and the water flow mechanics of the Great Bay Temple. The dungeons in the latter half of the game, when Link must collect pieces of the Mirror of Twilight, also exhibit this level of quality. The crypt-like Arbiter’s Grounds is traversed through by sniffing out the locations of four cheeky Poes that have stolen the flame source from the main door that leads to the dungeon’s boss, and this offers the best employment of Wolf Link’s abilities in the game. The esoteric and pristine Temple of Time uses straightaway backtracking well to retrieve a statue with the Dominion Rod from the far end of the temple that is intended to sit parallel to its twin at the colossal door near the entrance to unlock it. City in the Sky is a breathtaking marvel situated in the clouds that would make Hayao Miyazaki proud, even if its residents are those obscene Ooccoo creatures that look like you’d want to put them out of their misery. My favorite dungeon that Twilight Princess has to offer is the arctic Snowpeak Ruins because of how unconventional the trek is through it. The yeti that resides here is making a soup for his sick wife and is missing a few essential ingredients for the most delectable pumpkin broth. They direct towards the piece of the Mirror of Twilight they hold, but Link’s mission keeps getting sidetracked with every pointed direction, inadvertently leading to more of the soup’s missing ingredients. This dungeon is downright silly and refreshing for this frequently dismal game.
The selection of bosses in Twilight Princess is also outstanding. Similar to the dungeons they reside in, each boss guarantees that Link will use the item he received in some capacity, which is what cements their excellency. Gohma, the phobia-triggering giant spider, has made numerous appearances across the series and uses a combination of the bow and arrow and the Dominion Rod to crush its thorax with the might of a gigantic stone hammer. Morpheel from the Lakebed Temple reminds me of Morpha from Ocarina of Time in that Link yanks its vulnerable, fleshy core with the hook/clawshot, with a dozen tentacles added so the player can’t camp for their opportunity like with the Morpha fight. Morpheel’s second phase reminds me more of Shadow of the Colossus, as Link clawshots onto Morpheel’s weak spot and stabs his sword into it as the hideous beast swims around the aquarium arena. Argorok is a steel-plated dragon who terrorizes the timid Ooccoos in their sanctuary, and Link must face him at his eye level to end his reign over the sky by ascending the ground via hooking onto Peahats during a wicked storm. Everyone’s favorite fight, myself included, is the reanimated dragon skeleton Stallord, whose strengths as a boss relate to the player’s use of the Spinner item. These are arguably the most electrifying bouts in a game that is filled with them, and their effectiveness as fun bosses lie in the scale of their mass and the wide breadth of their arenas. Conquering these foes may not be too challenging, but the immense scope brought about by all of its elements makes them genuinely epic.
While the dungeons and bosses in Twilight Princess are exceptional, the game doesn’t give them as much precedence to make way for a more character-centric narrative, the core of the game’s wider stretches of exposition. The player grieves through the insufferably unstimulating portions of the game to familiarize themselves with Twilight Princess's rich roster of characters. Link’s time in Ordon Village in the sluggish introduction helps the player get acquainted with his fellow farm folk. Ordon Village consists of a few adult characters that lead a resistance militia, namely a guy who commands a falcon. More important than the adults are the children of Ordona, who have a more substantial narrative precedence. The gang of rugrats is a breakfast club of personalities: the brash and excitable Malo and his stoic, chubby little brother Malo, the bratty, vain Beth, and the sensitive Colin. All of the children admire Link to some extent, but Colin kisses the ground Link walks on. Instead of being annoyingly sycophantic, Colin transcribes his hero worship to motivate him to emulate Link’s feats of heroism. He gets this opportunity when greasy, grotesque Moblin army general King Bulbin returns to Kakariko Village in an attempt to recapture the children. Colin pushes Beth out of the stampeding Moblin warthogs and gets captured as a result. After Link saves Colin, he sheds his meek demeanor as he’s met his goal of becoming a valiant hero. This moment was intended to be poignant, but Colin’s arc is fulfilled far too early in the game before the narrative relegates these kids to Kakariko for the occasional visit or side quest. An even more shoehorned effort to make the side characters applicable to the narrative is with Ilia, the only other teenager from Ordon besides Link. Some romantic chemistry between her and Link is implied before she is captured, and the process of restoring her memory after her kidnapping leaves her as an amnesiac is a task that spans longer than rescuing the kids. Still, the eventual resolution to this quest flounders because it seems secondary to the big picture. I would’ve allowed an overt romantic dynamic between Link and Ilia here, for it’s the only way the character would’ve worked. It's not as if Link's heart belongs to Zelda, even with the hero arc implications.
Among all Twilight Princesses characters, the one that holds the greatest importance exists in a role that makes this fact astounding. When discussing the partner characters that aid Link on his adventure, most of them aren’t even worth the breath one would exert with this practice. They are not characters but tools with vocal cords like a GPS or the Siri feature on a smartphone. The only reason I discussed Navi in detail for Ocarina was her irritable infamy, more than any substantial role she had in the story besides interrupting Link’s slumber at the beginning. Midna functions the same way as the other partner characters in the series past. She’s helpful in the field with a select few aspects, she nags Link about his primary goal, she can be used for quick travel, and none of the information she gives is remotely useful when the player asks when they are uncertain of how to approach an obstacle or what their course of action is. Yet, she greatly transcends the wooden, strained role as Link’s assistant because, for the first time ever, the partner trope is as fully fleshed out as any other character, if not more so. Midna is the most expressive character the series has seen so far, and I’m not exclusively alluding to her toothy smirks and snarls. Midna supersedes Tetra in sass, constantly making snarky comments to Link to jokingly undermine his mighty hero role as she’s an immortal being from another dimension that sees him as an insignificant meat bag. As the game progresses, Midna begins to shed her contempt for Link as he proves his worth to her and the human world by proxy. This illuminating character development strengthens Link’s relationship with her. Midna’s passion for reclaiming her rightful throne and saving her people from Zant's grubby, traitorous hands makes her exude a palpable fervor that I didn’t know was possible for Zelda characters. Unlike the slight concern I expressed for the children of Odon, moments where Midna was in peril had me on the edge of my seat. Wolf Link carrying Midna’s motionless, pale body after she’s attacked by Zant, made me charge urgently through Hyrule Field without even stopping to attack the enemies along the way. During the final battle with Ganondorf in his most intimidatingly evil iteration yet, Midna uses her full power to destroy him, only for Ganondorf to come out unscathed, holding Midna’s fused shadow headpiece as a hunting trophy. Plunging my sword into the wicked swine as a finishing blow and watching him writhe in agony felt so satisfying to avenge Midna. Ultimately, she resurfaced as her true androgynous self and took the breath away from all of us, especially Link, whose stunned expression warrants one last ribbing from Midna, and it’s such a fantastic moment. The game explicitly refers to Midna as the titular “Twilight Princess,” just in case we’d confuse the subtitle for Zelda. Even if they didn’t remove all doubt, Midna out charismas the series namesake to the point where Zelda becomes practically irrelevant. Zelda who? Who cares?
The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess marks a grandstanding evolution in the franchise's history without even considering the implementation of motion controls in the Wii version. Ocarina of Time was a mechanical source that bled into the fabric of Majora’s Mask and Wind Waker. Perhaps those game’s subtle pinches of Ocarina’s salt didn’t taste acerbic enough for most Zelda fans, as their clear places as Ocarina’s successors went over their heads. Twilight Princess, on the other hand, uses the properties of Ocarina as subtly as a group of kids stacked on each other posing as an adult to sneak into an R-rated movie. The overall product of Twilight Princess is precisely what fans wanted from the 3D Zelda title that would surpass Ocarina as the rightful heir to its throne, and this notion was unequivocally felt when it was released. I’m certainly glad that Majora’s Mask and The Wind Waker are treated with more respect nowadays after their initial upset, but why does their newfound appreciation have to be at Twilight Princess's expense? Twilight Princess was the grandest Zelda game of its time, almost as if it had been in production since Ocarina of Time was released. Twilight Princess extrapolates on everything Ocarina presents and proverbially fills in the sizable cracks with caulk that compounds the narrative, gameplay, characters, and world design. Twilight Princess excels in the facets of Ocarina that I enjoyed, like the dungeons and bosses, and exceeds them spectacularly. Unfortunately, some of the fillings overflowed and made a mess of the game’s pacing, and it’s jarring enough to knock it down a few pegs. Twilight Princess should have triumphed over Ocarina of Time, but I can’t help but doubt this claim the more I ponder it. Still, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, without comparing it to its predecessors, deserves all of the initial praise it received, and I’m one Zelda fan who isn’t going to change my mind with this sentiment.
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