Othering M: Looking back at the most divisive of Metroids

And so we have reached the most heated topic of discussion concerning Other M. Was the game egregiously sexist in its portrayal of Samus? I've most commonly seen people point out Samus' taking stupid, suicidal orders from Commander Malkovich and her scene with Ridley as the primary offenders when it comes to portrayals of the "weak female." Upon considerable reflection, I ended up deciding they were simply the gaffes of awful storytelling. This says nothing of the sexualized Zero Suit or attempts to feminize Samus' character, subjects that could fill an article on their own. I decided to bypass those issues here in favor of a couple different targets more unique to Other M.

When people think about sexism, they typically think of negative stereotypes associated with women. However, even a positive portrayal can be harmfully sexist, like a back-handed complement. Simply put, a female character should not be placed on a pedestal just because she's female. In Other M, I actually got the impression the game was trying to be... perhaps not feminist, but maybe vaguely progressive. It pointed out how Samus was unique among the soldiers because she was so young. And because she was a woman. On the surface this might have seemed to say, "look how tough Samus is," but another reading could be, "hey Samus, you're as good as a man, how amazing."

Ideally, Samus should be regarded as special because of her determination, or her skills, or her alien tech, but the focus here seemed to be solely on her being female. The simplest way to make this a non-issue would have been to include other female military personnel. Add a few women to the line of soldiers Samus was standing in. Add at least one female marine to Adam's team. This would eliminate any perception that Samus was an aberration because of her sex. This is what Retro did in Echoes, making sure some of those dead marines were women.

But wait, what if the game was trying to make a commentary about inequality? Well, if it was, it really didn't come through. If the game was going to include social commentary in its story, it needed to commit to it and carry it through to the end. Touching on it so tentatively that it doesn't make an impact only ensures the efforts will backfire. Sexism, racism, homophobia—all touchy subjects that should either be thoughtfully addressed or left alone. My advice would be, if they didn't intend on exploring some carefully-considered philosophy, to have simply neutralized the issue by including a variety of people in the cast of major, minor, and background characters.

But I've saved the best for last, and by "best" I mean the one central component to Other M's story that almost single-handedly ruined the experience for me: Adam Malkovich. Other M is the story of Adam Malkovich as told by Samus Aran, fangirl.

 

All Samus talks about is Adam.  Every thought Samus has goes through the Adam filter.  We never hear Samus' opinions but she lets us know what Adam's are.  Samus tells us what a wonderful father figure, friend, and confidant he is. Sakamoto really wants us to like Adam Malkovich and if Samus' romanticized descriptions of the man weren't enough to convince you, the sappy portraits of Adam, painted in stardust at the end of the game, should clinch it. But it's all a lie.

The Adam Malkovich we are shown is not the man Samus describes. The man we see is stoic to the point of cold callousness. A control freak who wields authority like a club and treats Samus like a dirty traitor because she dared leave his command.  And she loves him for it. The crowning moment of awfulness for this relationship occurs during the final scene between Adam and Samus.



One of the most egregious exchanges comes when Samus asks Adam, "So why did you shoot me?" Excellent question, Samus! That's not the behavior of someone who trusts you. He simply took control of the situation in the most brutally efficient way possible. He also endangered you by incapacitating you while a deadly Metroid hovered over your head, a Metroid he had no reason to believe at this point in time he was capable of stopping. Then he stole your thunder by locking the door in your face so he could go off to face the Metroids alone. You were robbed of your dignity, Samus. The story tries to bribe us into respecting him for his "noble sacrifice," but by that point it's far too late to redeem Adam Malkovich.

The relationship between Samus and Adam is rather sick, and looks unhealthily codependent. I don't for a moment think Adam was intended to be seen as a psychologically abusive bastard with a polished brass rod stuck up his ass—he's probably just a character suffering from horrible mishandling. But the end result calls into question Samus' own mental health.

Is this relationship misogynist? Inherently, no. Anyone could be in a battered-spouse situation. However, when looked at through the lens of greater society, women trapped in these situations of abused subordinate (due to culture, family upbringing, or religion) far outnumber men. Then, on top of that, the game takes a psychologically abusive situation and romanticizes it, casts it in a positive light, makes a personality like Adam's desirable. Whether or not this portrayal is labeled sexist, it was a disturbing revelation that caused me to lose some respect for Samus Aran as a strong individual. Worst of all? We aren't even free of Adam's authoritarian straightjacket after his death. He is brought back in Metroid Fusion as the computer aboard Samus' ship. Then again, considering how often her ship ends up destroyed/nearly destroyed, maybe there's yet hope.



And now we've come to the end. Ultimately I think Other M was a badly flawed work, but it ends up being a very interesting case study that could generate far more discussion than what I touched on here, and I hope it continues to do so. This is a game that causes disagreement and invokes subject matter many people are uncomfortable with or get defensive about. I consider that a good thing. There are insights to be gleaned here on writing, getting feedback, game design, and character portrayal, just to name a few.

Other M is deserving of the criticism it gets, but it should not be condemned or hidden in the back of Nintendo's vault. It should be learned from—and I hope someone at Nintendo was paying attention to the flood of feedback this game generated. I want to see the Metroid series continue on, stronger than ever. I want to see Nintendo continue to develop in-depth stories when appropriate, and I hope this particular misstep in plot development didn't sour them to the idea. But most of all, I want to see Samus return in the next game as a fuller and more thoughtfully-portrayed character. If that can't happen, then I'd rather she remain a silent mystery, a blank slate on which to project the Samus I've gotten to know over the years.