Super Mario Odyssey

Having played this one again, I'm sadly left to conclude that this game, while still genius, it isn't the instant classic it was billed as in 2017. For starters, the positives: The worlds all have a ton of charm to them, even the desolate, abandoned Cloud Kingdom and Ruined Kingdom. The latter of which shocked me with just how much darker and bleaker it was than I remembered it being. The area is rife with the stench of decay, and the extent of the destruction is a secret known only by The Dragon. It's the kind of jarring area you never expect to see in a Mario game, and that's what Odyssey is at its best - a Link to the Past-esque tour of the far reaches of Mario's universe, beyond what we've already seen. The best of the game's kingdoms are similarly inventive - the massive New Donk City whose skyline seems to stretch out into infinity, like a child's imagination of New York City after stepping in it for the first time. Speaking of which, the feeling one gets when first stepping into this world is pure visual and auditory ecstasy, with this massive Times Square-esque block of land for the player to explore at their leisure, accompanied by a triumphant fanfare that leads into the area's jazzy accompaniment. It's one of the best moments in the series, alongside the fireworks show that serves as the coda for the mission. Tostarena is a refreshing change of pace from most desert levels, opting for a Mexican flair distinct from the Egypt and Wild West settings we're used to from the genre. The Wooded Kingdom is a massive flower garden tended to by seemingly sentient, obsessive robots working tireless to protect its beauty. Wedged between a set of snowy mountains, the place seems like the kind of Shangri-La we often see whose beauty is ravaged the moment it gets exposed the world, only in Mario's utopia, only Bowser threatens this delicate natural harmony.

As well, the structure of the game lends itself to acquainting oneself to these vibrant, living kingdoms. Collecting moons hidden on every corner of the map is (at least, in theory) a great way of incentivizing the player to see everything that there is to see, as well providing a larger scale sense of the kind of feedback delivered by other collect-a-thons like Banjo-Kazooie or Super Mario 64 [スーパーマリオ64]. Lastly, I would like to call attention to how perfected Mario's physics feel at this point. Although the gimmick of the game was billed as being the ability to possess objects with Mario's hat companion "Cappy", the real difference maker is the ability to sling your cap for an extra bounce, allowing the player to truly experience the feeling of "if you can see it, you can reach it" that the series has teased since all the way back in the aforementioned Super Mario 64.

However, this leads us right back into the negatives which hold this game back from fully capitalizing on its potential. First of all, most of the moons aren't laid out clearly for the player and require some degree of puzzle solving. This isn't a problem in itself, as simply hopping along an empty landscape would get old very quickly considering that few of these maps are actually that large in area. The problems arise when considering just how arbitrary some of these puzzles can be. Timer puzzles exist which create minor jungle gyms for the player to traverse, warp pipes, rocket ships, and hidden doors lead to elaborate platforming puzzles for the player to solve, and 8-bit warp pipes allow you to play a microcosm of a Super Mario Bros. level. Most of these puzzles are diversions that have little in common thematically with the rest of the level and break up the flow of experiencing them. It feels like a half-measured compromise between the pure-level approach of every 3D installment in the series between Sunshine and this game. I can't communicate here in text how jarring this is, but play it again and you'll see what I mean.

This game is also a lot shorter than you probably remember. When this game first released, it seemed so boundless and epic that some speculated that years would pass in the time it would take to collectively find every moon. In reality, it took me about a week to find 500 of the game's 892 moons. Granted, this leaves me with almost 400 moons still left to go, and I could always go back to collect what I haven't already, which I probably will, but the problem with that is that so many of these moons are, well, filler. Many simply aren't fun to collect. There are only so many of the same puzzles and mini-games one can play before the whole exercise starts to feel tedious. I understand they wanted to give this game an epic feel, and cutting out these filler moons would have greatly decreased the game's length, but it feels like Nintendo went out of their way to discourage completionism. Clearly Nintendo realized they hadn't cut it with the game's length anyways, considering they released the "Luigi's Balloon World" add-on just four months after the game's release in order to pump more life into it. A great part of the charm of Super Mario 64 (or Sunshine or Galaxy 1 and 2) is the feeling that stars could be anywhere, and that each star you collect feels like an adventure in its own right. You don't play a course or mission in these games and feel that each star is just another drop in the pan, it feels like you finished a chapter in a storybook. Here, all you get is a little rush of dopamine before realizing that each moon you collect brings you one moon closer to the doldrums of scrutinizing the world for moons you didn't get, at which point getting one moon feels like a hollow reward for your troubles.

Super Mario Odyssey is still a game well-worth playing today and one that should be treasured as fine game in the series, just one that's shy of the lofty heights the series has reached in the past. The upshot is that with this game and Bowser's Fury, it feels like Nintendo has gotten this series back on track after the tedious "New Super" and "3D" releases, and with that, the Mario name is once again synonymous with quality. Super Mario Odyssey revitalized Mario as a series worth pricking your ears up whenever it gets talked about for a new installment, and that alone is worth all the moons in the world.

Score: 8/10

Super Mario Odyssey is the game that most gamers have waited for, for decades. Taking everything right with Super Mario 64, Super Mario Sunshine, and both Super Mario Galaxy games, while bringing in flair and pizazz from other Mario themed games.

This master-cut, action-packed, adventurous, experimental, blast to the past, modernized beauty will stay in people’s hearts for generations of gamers to come.
What this game does right is that it forgives players for their mistakes and rewards players for trying beyond expectations. Secrets, easter eggs, little hidden treats here and there provide timeless experiences.

It’s hard for me to even explain what type of category this game would fall under, but after just playing through the final boss and final stages, watching the ending, and getting to the credits... I felt emotions of pure bliss and happiness. Not because the game has ended and the story is over, but because I know I’ve just scratched the very top of what the game has to offer and can expect dozens of more hours put in to get every moon... cuz theres literally over 800 of those things. (I tried my best to get most of regional coins and moons as I went along and spent countless hours, but theres just sooooo much)

While a fun game, I do find Odyssey to be very overrated. The main game can be completed rather quickly and unlike Super Mario Galaxy 2 I have little interest playing after completing the main gam since the Mushroom Kingdom area is such a disappointing and dry area to follow-up this game. I like the prefer the layout in Galaxy 2 as well going level by level as opposed to the open world concept. With that in mind this is still a really good game. Cappy was an excellent addition, the graphics look great, and the levels are for the most part fun. New donk city in particular is great.

Ever since the release of Super Mario Galaxy, I had always wondered how all of the successive 3D Mario titles were going to meet it at eye level. After all, what could possibly match the grandiose scope of freely flying throughout the infinite reaches of the universe? Logically speaking, absolutely nothing expands beyond it. While I tout Super Mario Galaxy as the Mario’s finest outing across all of his mainline games, putting the plumber in a setting with an indescribably vast breadth where no one can possibly fathom its parameters peaks the franchise conceptually. My worry was that Nintendo had inadvertently squeezed the potential out of their most valuable asset, splurging all the remaining possibilities of a 3D Mario adventure into one intergalactic romp. I’m not considering the sequel to Super Mario Galaxy as proof that Mario hadn’t stagnated because Yoshi is not substantial enough of an addition. Actually, the fact that the green dinosaur was the only crumb of innovation they could implement to Galaxy’s formula is empirical evidence to my claim that it couldn’t be surpassed. The array of Mario games that followed Galaxy decided not to succeed it, but instead to ape the pre-3D classics with a polygonal coat of paint almost as a creatively bankrupt safety net. Super Mario 3D World for the Wii U, on the other hand, is technically not another 2D Mario game rendered with polygons instead of pixels. Still, considering the game features a grid-based world map and narrowly linear levels that all end by climbing a fucking flagpole, it’s a wonder how they could convince anyone that it wasn’t of the same ilk. When Super Mario Odyssey was released as the Mario representative to showcase the new Nintendo Switch console in 2017, I still remained skeptical despite hearing that it reverted back to the collectathon format and that it was receiving the same widespread acclaim not seen since Galaxy 2. It turns out that Super Mario Odyssey still doesn’t attempt to triumph over Galaxy’s magnificence, but that is actually what makes it all the more substantial.

Of course, Odyssey still begins with the same general conflict premise as Galaxy. Then again, it just wouldn’t be Mario anymore if Bowser wasn’t swiping up the princess like clockwork, which means my stockholm syndrome for Mario’s severely overused plot device is finally settling in. The unique context behind Odyssey’s princess-napping is that Bowser realizes like Beyonce that if he likes Peach, he should put a ring on her as a binding, inescapable bond of holy matrimony seen as a steadfast contractual obligation by the law. When Mario confronts Bowser on his decorated ship flying over Peach’s castle in what is the most abrupt introduction to any Mario game thus far, the boomerang swing of Bowser’s white, snappy wedding hat knocks the wind out of Mario and sends him zooming across the skies. He leaves his trusty red cap in the wake of his humbling defeat, which Bowser crushes with the force of his hefty reptilian foot as a finishing blow to Mario’s ego. However, losing one of Mario’s most personal items is more fortuitous than one would think. Mario manages to crashland on “Bonnetown” in the Cap Kingdom, a peculiar place so expressionististic with a whimsically eerie atmosphere that it’s a wonder that Tim Burton’s name didn’t pop up in the opening credits. Cap Kingdom is also populated by a society of wispy, ghoulish caps that possibly could serve as substitutes for Mario’s misplaced clothing item. Cappy, the floating pale creature who has somehow retrieved the torn remnants of Mario’s old hat from Bowser’s ship, volunteers to be the new blocker of the sun’s rays to Mario’s dome because his younger sister, Tiara, has also been forcibly taken by Bowser to serve as Peach’s crown during their eventual wedding ceremony. By fusing his ethereal body with Mario’s old cap, Cappy and Mario are now a dynamic duo on a mission to save Peach and his sister from glorified legal enslavement. I suppose the call to adventure is glorious for Cappy but for Mario, it’s just another Tuesday.

While Mario isn’t roaming the cosmos once again, the “odyssey” portion of the title still alludes to a glorious journey nonetheless. Mario is limited to the land this time around and all of its oxygenated, gravitational barriers, but this does not mean that Super Mario Odyssey is a conceptual compromise. The key element from Galaxy retained here is that heightened sense of romanticism that comes with Mario setting off on an adventure. Somehow, for a franchise whose protagonist has soared through the infinite reaches of space twice over, Odyssey’s scale still seems as wondrous while sticking to an earthly environment. There is something bourgeois about sailing the skies in a steam-powered vessel in the shape of a red top hat that is granted to you on a convenient whim, a fanciful privilege only rewarded to the king of video games. Mario is a modern day Philleas Fogg, and the premise of flying around the circumference of the entire world that was once far-fetched when Around the World in Eighty Days was written still retains that sense of spectacle and majesty despite the technological advancements we’ve contributed to air travel. The same could be said for Mario’s personal experiences, finding exhilaration in this venture even after exploring the final frontier. Somehow, for a franchise where one title was vacation themed, Odyssey exudes a greater atmosphere of laidback breeziness than when he set foot on Isle Delfino. 3D Mario still sustains the elation of traveling abroad, which means Mario is still shirking whatever responsibility he left in the Mushroom Kingdom two decades prior. Is Peach his mistress, or did living with Luigi become intolerable?

The world that Mario is circling via a mechanical, quasi-steampunk piece of formal wear on his quest to rescue Peach is actually the one where the Mushroom Kingdom resides. Unless someone has mapped out the location of Sarasaland or Isle Delfino and determined their geographical placements in relation to the Mushroom Kingdom, Odyssey marks the first time where the player can discern the distance between Peach’s fungal domain and the areas outside of its jurisdiction. Instead of shelling out gobs of money for their wedding like your average poor sap, Bowser uses his kingly persuasion and or strongarm tactics to steal the precious artifacts from the various kingdoms to use as trinkets during the ceremony (wedding cake, soiree bouquet, etc). In the interest of sticking it to Bowser and restoring balance to the upset kingdoms he’s impolitely pillaging, Mario acts as the NATO-esque ambassador from the Mushroom Kingdom and retrieves all of the stolen items rightfully belonging to their defenseless neighbors.

Since Odyssey’s progression involves skimming across the longitudinal plane of an entire planet, one can assume that the seventeen different areas of the game showcase an eclectic range of level themes and topographies. Before you also assume that this premise allows the developers to delve back into the typical fire, ice, desert, etc. world roulette that the Super Mario series created and every conceivable platformer followed, Odyssey seems slightly more clever than to pass by with the bare minimum. Sure, the kingdoms arguably resemble the base elemental motifs that ran the genre into the ground with exhausting overuse. However, a pinch of personality will perk up any and all overused tropes. For instance, the explorable district of the Sand Kingdom, “Tostarena,” borrows inspiration from Latin American culture instead of the ancient Egyptian standstill. A plaza of vibrant, colorful buildings resembling modern Mexican architecture are contrasted with an array of mythically ancient Aztec pyramids and pillars in a dry wasteland of baked red sand. “Shiveria” in the Snow Kingdom looks like a hostile bank of frigid tundra on the surface, but underneath the raging frost is a civilization of rotund, white furballs whose habitable society exudes a sense of warmth and comfort. I suppose the closest Odyssey comes to rendering a fire-themed level is the Luncheon Kingdom, with its boiling lake of Pepto Bismol serving as the scorching hazard that surrounds the area. Anyone who would find this gaudy, splotchy kingdom appetizing is either a cartoon alien or on some seriously potent dope. I don’t trust that this kingdom has a pleasant aroma of food from Cappy because he doesn’t even have a fucking nose! The highlight kingdom in my personal opinion is the swinging urban “New Donk City,” meant to resemble America’s city that never sleeps. Among the goofy and brainless Sims refugees that populate this city, its less disturbingly realistic mayor should tickle anyone who is knowledgeable with Mario’s history. Mario’s old squeeze Pauline all the way back from when he was coined as Jumpman has moved on up from being snatched up by Donkey Kong to a position of prestigious political power. Seeing her after a quarter of a century is like bumping into an old girlfriend from high school, and whether or not her success is life-affirming or a source of envy is a matter of individual perspective, I guess. Overall, Odyssey’s crop of kingdoms are beaming with life and energy, but there are a few duds in the mix. Some are relegated to bounded boss arenas, and the aquatic theming of both the Lake Kingdom and Seaside Kingdom is redundant. They could’ve been integrated with the elegant mermaid society of Lake Lamode hidden underneath the surface of the carbonated beachfront of Bubblaine like how the “Steam Gardens” of the forested Wooden Kingdom juxtaposed the shadowed core below the mechanized hiking trails above.

Mario’s recurring objective whenever he docks his aircraft on the ground of any of these levels is to gather an increasing abundance of fuel to further power his ship. Fuel for the aircraft is harnessed via obtaining power moons that are in the shape of multicolored crescents, a Mario celestial collectible that has also been split in half. A certain milestone of power moons collected also forms another fold of the sail that hoists the ton of top hat machinery up in the sky, suggesting that it can travel to greater lengths with every new addition. That quantity of power moons needed to expand Mario’s trajectory is the primary goal of each level, as the player will be locked onto the current level until the quotient is met. Another collectible also found scattered around the field besides the standard coins is a subsidiary purple currency that tends to be aligned in packs of three and are specifically shaped for each kingdom. Mario cannot convert the darkened currency into gasoline to feed his ship’s engine; rather, they are exchanged to purchase items at a gift shop featured in every kingdom. Mario can change his attire with a hat and torso clothing combo, plant a sticker with an artistic postcard design to decorate the exterior of his aircraft like the back of a laptop screen, and spruce up the interior of it with assorted knickknacks. Filling the space of the inner chamber with each level’s memorabilia is a neat way of signaling progress in the game, and mixing and matching Mario’s outfits is just darling. For those few who campaigned against Mario’s sombrero and poncho combo calling it “cultural appropriation,” get a life.

Super Mario Odyssey cuts the approximate number of total levels featured in either of the two Super Mario Galaxy games in half. Despite how this seems on the surface, Odyssey is not a skeletal 3D Mario game compared to its predecessors because of its direction. The growing linearity that both Galaxy titles sought to pursue for 3D Mario’s evolution has been scrapped entirely for Odyssey. Instead, Odyssey adopts a free-flowing open design across all seventeen levels. It’s a fortunate circumstance for Mario that his eccentric vehicle’s fuel source is plentiful and commonplace across all of the kingdoms, so the lengths he must undergo to sustain geographical movability are not arduous in the slightest. In fact, Mario can simply walk a few meters from where he parks his aircraft and find at least a couple of power moons. Odyssey provides a myriad of assorted ways to obtain its main collectible, so many that I have to limit the examples for the sake of brevity. Red doors marked with a dapper, golden top hat symbol are entrances to enclosed, traditional platforming sections where a power moon will be rewarded to Mario at the end, with another often obscured to the side rewarded for diligent searching. Some of these doors are locked behind bouncers who won’t let Mario in until he’s wearing the appropriate outfit, so the clothes are also functional as well as fashionable. Sending Mario down the iconic green pipes will transport him to a section that restricts him to the 2D axis, resembling his spritely self during his early pixelated days. I particularly enjoy these brief swathes of 2D platforming as the pixel art rendered here is so crisp and clean. Mario ascends up the New Donk City equivalent to the Empire State Building entirely in his 8-bit form in a sparkling, 25 year tribute to the classic Donkey Kong game, and the game arguably peaks in quality with this section alone. Minigames, or at least sections that I would consider to be minigames, involve matching the paces of a circle and placing the correct pieces of anatomy on a drawing of an enemy or ally. While these feel like glorified sobriety tests, the fact that they are featured shows the extent of how the game diversifies the objective of finding the power moons, ensuring that it never risks getting stale. Do you want to know what the best part of the collection process is? The pesky boot-out system that plagued the non-linear playgrounds of Super Mario 64 has been omitted entirely, so Mario can collect past the required amount of power moons to his heart’s content. The main quest that each level presents involving the retrieval of stolen goods is merely a suggestion that can be glossed over in favor of other objectives. Finally, Odyssey realizes the potential of 64’s level design after all of its immediate successors practically abandoned it.

Odyssey’s main gimmick is also greatly utilized while Mario explores each level for power moons. Cappy isn’t merely a talking hat to help Mario navigate through uncharted territory with the occasional factoid and quip: he’s as integral to Odyssey’s gameplay as F.L.U.D.D. was in Sunshine. If there is one extraordinary aspect that the already splendorous Galaxy was lacking, it’s giving Mario the ability to possess all sentient beings that surround him. Odyssey gives credence to all the conspiratorial whack jobs wearing tinfoil hats because without their odd, makeshift headwear, their autonomy is fully squelched by Mario after he flings his hat off of his head onto theirs, with an additional mustache to signify Mario’s presence in their minds. This marvelous addition to Mario’s gameplay isn’t only used a handful of times for a small selection of NPCs: it's necessary to gather the majority of power moons per level. Ever wondered what it would be like to control a number of Bowser’s henchmen? Well, Odyssey unveils that hypothetical possibility, by letting Mario fling frying pans furiously as a hammer bro, break open cages with the charged force a Bullet Bill, and stacking Goombas to attract a female one situated on a perch. Friendlier NPCs can also be controlled, such as a clueless dad in New Donk City who can’t drive an RC car to save his life and a winged lizard who can glide to the ledges of pillars in Tostarena and the isolated islands of the remote Lost Kingdom. Mario can man mobile weaponry such as tanks and slingshots, and force inanimate objects that are obscuring power moons out of his way. For a brief period, Mario can even take control of the enormous T. Rex sleeping in Cascade Kingdom and rampage through its prehistoric waterfalls destroying all of the rock formations that surround it. Must I list more examples after this one? The ability to do so was practically a selling point for the entire game, and I was completely sold on this unique piece of gameplay innovation.
While the massive range of individual objectives per level preserves the player’s intrigue in Odyssey’s gameplay, it ultimately trivializes the game’s difficulty. Thinking of ways to scatter the power moons and implement quirky methods of earning them was probably too ambitious for the developers, so their creative juices evidently ran dry as they started to half ass the process. Mario can earn a power moon by sitting on a bench with some lonely SOB in New Donk City, twirling his hat on several glowing spikes, and one power moon is purchasable in the section of each kingdom’s gift shop that accepts regular coins. When earning the main collectible boils down to simply purchasing it for a paltry 100 coins, does it really feel like an achievement? Is this the best the developers could come up with to meet some kind of power moon quota? Only a handful of power moons are legitimate challenges that require a reasonable level of platforming skill to obtain. To compound on Odyssey’s ease, all Mario loses when he dies is a measly ten coins. I understand that perhaps a numbered life system wouldn’t work in this open environment, for there isn’t even a hub to eject Mario to upon exhausting all of them. Still, maybe I’d be more incentivized to act cautiously if the penalty of death was a bit steeper. The areas of each kingdom tend to be fairly spacious, so perhaps Mario should be teleported back to the ship as a reasonable punishment and wipe away the whole checkpoint system. I understand that Odyssey places a heavy emphasis on liberal exploration rather than narrow platforming tasks, but lifting the weight of challenge across the board to foster this direction made me disillusioned with the gameplay at times.

I can’t say the game’s various bosses provide too much of a challenge either, but at least they share the admirable levels of diversity and creativity that the high points of Odyssey bestow. Initiating a boss encounter is usually not done through stumbling upon them like a regular power moon. They tend to be integrated with the primary objective looming overhead, and the incentive for defeating is earning a three-piece power moon pack instead of a single one. A recurring encounter found floating menacingly over many kingdoms with their miniature, flying boat are the Broodals: a quartet of anthropomorphic rabbits hired by Bowser to coordinate a slew of things for his wedding. While all the thuggish bunnies exude a rough and tough, low-brow urbanity like they’re an unused gang from The Warriors, each individual Broodal fights couldn’t be anymore different from the next. Mario even fights their equally trashy mother a couple of times, who walks around carrying a chain chomp on a leash as the Mario world equivalent of a middle-aged housewife pampering a pit bull terrier. Other bosses are endemic to the particular world they reside in, such as the stone face of Knucklotec in the catacombs of Tostarena, Mechawiggler scaling the sides of the tall buildings of New Donk City, and Cookatiel flapping its wings over the Luncheon Kingdom’s Mount Volbono volcano. The Ruined Dragon of the forsaken Ruined Kingdom is so photorealistic and darkly intimidating that it’s as if Mario crossed the metaphysical video game boundaries into Dark Souls. While none of the bosses were perilous duels that tested Mario’s might, integrating the possession mechanic into most of these boss battles is an appreciated factor of their high engagement. I especially enjoy using Knucklotec’s own fists to sucker punch him, and shooting the balls off of Mechawiggler’s body with tank shells.

Lest we forget Bowser’s role as the primary Mario antagonist among the crowd of secondary bosses in Odyssey. Similarly to the Galaxy games, Bowser is fought a handful of times before the climactic moment that results in returning Peach to safety. Also like Galaxy, Bowser’s fights are basically the same as the first with additional variations to his attacks to throw Mario off of the sense of familiarity. The first fight that Bowser engages with Mario is a detour into the small, secluded Cloud Kingdom, and we’re meant to believe that his final fight will take place at his feudal Japan themed castle, which is the most inspired depiction of Bowser’s fiery fortress we’ve seen in ages. The true climax where Mario finally conquers Bowser is set in a cathedral erected on the edge of the moon. Talk about a destination wedding! After barging through the towering ivory doors to yell “I object!” like any maverick wedding crasher would, Mario kicks Bowser’s white tuxedo-wearing, neatly combed hair ass so hard for his latest attempt to secure Peach as his property that the cathedral starts to crumble around them. In order to survive the wreckage, Mario does the unthinkable and passes his cap onto Bowser. Yes, for the last segment of Odyssey’s story, the player controls King Koopa himself as the only reliable physical force available to break through the falling debris, and he’s as fun to play as one would expect. Odyssey’s ending may not form an emotional lump in my throat as Galaxy’s did, but the epic closure of racing to the other side as Bowser is satisfyingly epic. Plus, the “bro moment” between Mario and Bowser when Peach rejects both of them as potential lovers at the end is hilariously tender and unexpected.

Flying to the moon to halt Peach’s horrible fate as Bowser’s lawfully wedded wife wrapped up the story of Odyssey nicely, but the game itself is far from over. The first step of Mario’s epilogue is finally returning home to the Mushroom Kingdom after an extensive period away. However, Mario will be working overtime here as the modern rendering of Peach’s castle and the yard surrounding it serve as an entirely new area with power moons aplenty. On top of the power moons earned through exploration, portals strewn throughout the castle grounds transport Mario to fighting the game’s bosses again with a dash of extra challenge seasoned in. Green series staples such as Yoshi and Luigi can also be found roaming the area, and their brief inclusions are enough of a presence so Nintendo doesn’t think to legitimize Odyssey with a whole new sequel where they hog more of the spotlight. What really extends the length of Odyssey to overflowing proportions are the space cubes littered across every single kingdom in the game. Now, when Mario bats these mysterious multidimensional shapes with Cappy, they ignite into the sky and create new power moons that are integrated with those left over from the base game. Engaging with the cubes doubles the amount of power moons per level, meaning that Odyssey’s epilogue is extended to the length of the entire game that the player just finished. One may dismiss Odyssey’s post-game as a case of ludicrous padding. Yet, I genuinely still yearned to collect more power moons after I defeated Bowser, and the flood of supplementary power moons quenched my thirst for more content. Besides, I can choose to collect as many additional power moons as I please at my own pace, and I’m not a strict completionist. For those who are, Odyssey certainly has their work cut out for them.

After a lengthy period of lackluster releases unfitting for Mario’s golden reputation, the Italian pride of Nintendo finally fired on all cylinders with Super Mario Odyssey. By returning to form via the 3D platformer format that used to mark a gigantic release for the plumber, Mario reworks what was perceived as insurmountable by Galaxy’s high standard by tweaking the knobs of collectathon gameplay to something completely untested in the franchise. I’m almost ashamed to admit my short-sightedness in assessing how doomed the attempt of any subsequent 3D Mario game matching Galaxy would be, for basing the core design in a strictly non-linear playground where the player has the freedom to explore without any constraints seems like such an obvious solution. “The possession mechanic” that drives Odyssey’s appeal is so unconventional that no one could’ve anticipated its incorporation into the gameplay, but we’re all delighted by its inclusion. Odyssey is a tad too facile for my liking, even for a series as accessible as Mario. Because of this, I can clearly state that I prefer the format of the previous 3D Mario platformers where earning a main collectible felt more gratifying. Still, Odyssey is more than worthy enough of being uttered in the same respects as its predecessors, something that couldn’t be said about the immediate Mario titles before it.

Super Mario Odyssey sold a generally terrible piece of hardware to me and if they release another game this good again I will literally buy a Switch 2.0 for it.

Odyssey is what happens when quality control is loosened up just enough to let the workhorse team actually make interesting ideas instead of needing to categorically stick to the exact ontology of what were once creative established ideas (koopas, paragoombas, whatever the hell else is allowed into stuff like New Super Mario Bros Wii).

Having freedom of expression in design means design can flourish to actually provide good levels, and good levels are the exact nectar that makes Mario games timeless.

If it isn't weird, is it even fun? Or is it ticking boxes to be marketable, selling you the same locomotion that built the company and assuming you don't deserve better in any other way?

(written nov 5, 2017)

The day after I beat Super Mario Odyssey, it felt like I dreamt it up. It was the most diverse journey we’ve had in decades, a stark contrast to the polished mundanity of Super Mario 3D World. Unique enemies, unparalleled boss fights, worlds thick with secrets, and a Mario more expressive than we’ve ever seen. I remembered the post-credits content and the utter shock I felt, the only words coming out of my mouth being “Nintendo made this?!”

That’s not to say I doubted Nintendo to deliver quality; even in 3D World, I found those moments of joy and discovery and clarity that Nintendo is so well known for. What made Super Mario Odyssey so dreamlike was, after a few years of stagnation, its a Mario game with a defined vision. Much like Galaxy, Odyssey defines itself very particularly by being totally different. The goal of Odyssey is to take the player on a vacation, but Nintendo takes this concept and runs with it farther than they ever have.

The kingdoms alone are enough to take players’ breaths away. Each one feels like other planets but they all retain a fun, welcoming atmosphere, even amidst the panic of Bowser’s drop-ins. Every kingdom has its own special currency, costume set, and collectibles & stickers that can be put on the Odyssey ship itself. The player establishes their presence in these kingdoms on the hunt for moons, and settles themselves into these newfound lands and unique cultures. The cherry on top is how Mario can move around these places.

Super Mario Odyssey‘s identity is grounded in its 3D roots. Its 64 and Sunshine inspirations are noticeable from the moment the player starts moving, it’s that type of movement that establishes a rhythm the player can instantly fall into. Mario moves with snappy precision, and his friend Cappy allows for even more maneuverability. The full-roaming, jumping, pouncing and flipping is palpable in the players hands.

The poppy parkour lets the player grasp all the nooks and crannies of what Odyssey has to offer, and gosh, does it offer; Mario is no more than a hop, skip, and a “wa-hoo!” away from a discovery at any given moment. Power moons and respective currencies can be found at all levels, either out in the open, hiding in plain sight, or tucked away deep, requiring solid platforming literacy to obtain. Every level of player can get enough moons to complete the game, but there’s plenty of surprises for pros.

Aside from the copious collectibles, Odyssey implements coins smarter than any other Mario title. There’s genuine incentive to collecting coins; they can be used to buy power moons and costumes and the player now loses ten coins per death. But most of all, coins in Mario are like the designer’s footprints. There are numerous times where I thought to myself “I’m not supposed to get up here,” and I’m greeted with piles of coins. Odyssey rewards creativity, which, in a 3D Mario game, is extremely refreshing.

I find myself feeling the same sense of exhilarating discovery when playing The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Not a surprising coincidence; Yoshiaki Koizumi, the producer of Odyssey, says “we wanted to make sure you could have a fun experience…even if you only had a short time to play” about Breath of the Wild. This is how you design around a consoles gimmick. The Switch is about the choice between playing on your own time on-the-go or dedicating hours to play at home, it’s a gimmick much less in-your-face than motion controls or GamePads. The way you play works around the game, not vice versa.

Nintendo likes to frame themselves as an entity separate from the rest of the competition, and sometimes their own consumer base, but this is the most genuine they’ve felt in years. Odyssey isn’t just another polished Mario experience that tries to be different for difference’s sake. It’s real, it reciprocates the love people provide it. Odyssey never struggles to make me smile because everything about it smiles right back at me.