In Which There’s a Jump Button

One of the problems that has plagued creators for centuries is how to follow up a project of obvious importance. When a work is created that revolutionizes and changes everything it’s difficult to imagine what to do next, especially if said work is the genesis of an ongoing franchise. There are various options available: dig deeper into the created world, extrapolate on characters while upping stakes, or just throwing out the script entirely to try something new.

Such is the case with 1987’s Zelda II: The Adventure of Link a game situated with the unenviable task of not only following up one of the cornerstones of an entire medium, but turn said cornerstone into the foundation for a long running series. When presented with such an arduous decisions Shigeru Miyamoto opted for perhaps the trickiest one: throwing out the baby with bathwater and starting from scratch.

As such the team that made Zelda II was almost completely different from the one that produced the original title, with only Miyamoto retaining a producer role. The fresh group set about creating a game that could retain the spirit and adventure of the first game while tackling interaction from a slanted perspective. Sending the player on a high fantasy quest with an entirely new toolkit of interactions for them to interface the world with.

Thus Zelda II has ended up being the oddest duck in a franchise full of oddity. Structurally aloof from all other entries in most conceivable ways. Yet Zelda II still persists as a hugely influential game, not just on the rest of the Zelda series, but on a myriad of other projects who have taken the game’s unique combo of action/platforming and RPG mechanics to heart.

To whit Zelda II is one of the few entries in the franchise to directly followup the previous game. This time Link has to valiantly battle against the cultists of Ganon so he can waken Zelda from a magically induced slumber. If he fails Ganon will return from the dead and exact his revenge. Thus link must journey to a variety of towns and temples, collect items, and slay beasties to accomplish his goal. All pretty standard fare for a Zelda game.

This conventional structure belies the oddity of the project inside. The first thing a player notices is that game starts in a sidescrolling perspective, immediately inverting the main play style of the original. Not only is one viewing the action from perpendicular vantage point, but they are given a full button to jump, an action inconceivable in the first Legend of Zelda. And amazingly this expectation is just as quickly pulled out from the player again. As soon as they step out of the first room they are greeted by a traditional top down looking world map.

Thus the actual structure of the game comes into focus. A familiar world map married to some unconventional sidescrolling sections. These two parts are then woven together by the brand new RPG bells and whistles added to the game. For the first and only time in the series Link gains experience from slaying his foes: experience which he can transform into increased health, attack, and spell usage. Unlike the typical RPG of the era, encounters are entirely presented as real time platforming combat, with Link jumping and slashing his way through enemies to get those sweet skills.

The form of engagement here makes the systems available shockingly open-ended. The player, even when they run into an enemy in the overworld, can decided how much they want to willingly fight at that moment. Deciding between standing and duking it out and literally running of the edge of the screen. Such freedom is prevalent throughout the entire experience, while certain locks and keys are needed to approach the endgame, the player is encouraged to go out and dither around in the world and see what they can accomplish.

An arcane wonder is then imbued into the game, as strange happenings and places are tucked away into the multitudinous corners of the map. Of course the infamous “I AM ERROR” villager proves a prime example of the game’s oddity, but the way the player must engage with the world is intricately structured with byzantine puzzles and an eye to the bizarre. Such as a village populated only by ghosts or secret bridges across the ocean that can only felt out rather than seen.

Such elements propel most of the game’s intrigue, but they also reveal its most frustrating features. For Zelda II is diabolically difficult. Even by the standards of NES toughness scaling, the game is pure punishment. The puzzles are wrapped in layer after layer of hard to parse riddles and directions. The temples Link explores are looping labyrinths of dead ends and constant enemy bombardment. Getting lost and killed is not only easy, it seems to be the MO of the whole experience. Even with a guide and save states, Zelda II will repeatedly hand the player their ass on a platter.

This makes the game a tough sit from a modern perspective, but proves insightful to see how such a deviation from the series continues to impact the gaming world at large. The fusion of action/platforming and RPG elements is now a format found far and wide in the gaming sphere. From nostalgia driven looks into the past past (think Shovel Knight) to the modern action games (the punishing difficulty, obtuse pathing, and mixing and matching of genres isn’t too dissimilar to the modern From Software productions). It’s a unique, if not entirely enjoyable, experience. And one that points to how much variance and idiosyncrasy can be found in the biggest franchises in gaming.

Is it Weird, Overlooked, or Wonderful?

Zelda II is most likely the least played entry in the main franchise, and has certainly been past over in most retrospectives of the series. It’s structure and style cement it as weird and overlooked, though it might be too hard to be considered wonderful.

Odds and Ends

• Nintendo maestro Koji Kondo was another member who didn’t transfer from the original Zelda to its sequel. However the music by Akito Nakatsuka is a highlight, with the excellent temple theme making perennial appearances in the series.
• The downward thrust attack that Link can perform is probably the single element most vociferously  replicated elsewhere. With good reason, it’s one of the few combat maneuvers to consistently feel good.
• Direct Zelda sequels are always the weirdest one. This, Majora’s Mask, and Phantom Hourglass are bizarre followups that mostly reject the structure of their progenitors. Hopefully the Breath of the Wild sequel follows such oddity.

Next Week: The world is ending, and I feel like watching a flick with Joe Dante’s 1993 cult classic Matinee.