For me, the months leading up to Twilight Princess's release were oddly trying. I bought and played through two Playstation 2 games, Shadow of the Colossus and Okami, that were both rife with similarities to the traditional Zelda experience. Shadow of the Colossus featured an overworld of amazing size, explored primarily on horseback. Okami was an adventure game clearly forged in the Zelda mold, its many similarities culminating in the bizarrely coincidental species of its protagonist.

Both games were absolutely fantastic. As one of the many people looking forward to Twilight Princess, I began to wonder how these two titles could possibly be topped. Had they one-upped Zelda at its own game? It only took the first dungeon in Twilight Princess to allay my fears. Zelda's back, and to contest its greatness is folly.

Yes, I am aware of the hyperbole. Really, though, it kind of hit me in the face when I was playing it. Dungeons are designed with puzzles that make logical sense, and the decisions you make will affect your surroundings in the way you would expect. You might even have to remove "video game logic" from the forefront of your mind for a moment, as many problems, while very often both difficult and clever, are solved using a simple understanding of consistency in your surroundings. There is immense satisfaction in solving these kinds of puzzles, as you just feel so smart.


This sense of realism is most evident when utilizing the bevy of items you have at your disposal. You can't shoot an arrow at a button with a strong wind blowing by it, as it'll get blown away. A particularly heavy item can be used to drag an object of significant mass closer to you. In fact, this kind of logic can be used to circumvent the "intended" solutions to some puzzles. While many problems are supposed to be solved using a very specific set of skills, there are others that can be solved by any number of potential solutions. Your items aren't merely glorified keys, but are rather a bundle of attributes that you can use in any situation that you'd imagine them to be useful.

I was most impressed by the returning items, though—those already found in the majority of old Zelda games. While Twilight Princess does have a nice selection of brand new items, which is refreshing given the kind of recycling that often goes on from game to game, old favorites like the boomerang return with new functionality that dramatically alters how they're used. I won't name any others out of respect for those who wish to remain surprised, but many items first pioneered in older Zelda games have been revamped to interact with the game world in all new ways.

So the gameplay is largely impeccable. That's not especially surprising, given the track record of the franchise, though I'd say that Twilight Princess has certainly set a new bar. None of the symptoms of an unfinished game, many of which were evident in The Wind Waker, are present. What really is a significant enhancement over previous titles, though, is the quality of the storytelling. Connections to the overall Zelda mythology are as confusing as ever (though they can be deciphered by those with the necessary passion), but I'm referring moreso to the self-contained plot of the game. Character development and cinematics have been masterfully crafted, and there is an overall polish not seen since Ocarina of Time. This is enhanced by a fantastically composed soundtrack, featuring what I consider to be the best Zelda overworld theme yet. Not only is it wonderfully constructed, but it's designed in such a way that enemy battle music will actually replace certain measures in the song, and then transition musically back into the overworld theme when combat is complete. It's not just one song fading into the other, but two songs actually being weaved together. Every time I enter the overworld, I'm freshly invigorated by the combination of scope and musical flourish.

It's worth noting that I am, indeed, reviewing the Wii version of the game, not the GameCube one. Anyone familiar with this editorial of mine may be a bit confused by that fact. The truth is that the novelty of the Wii hardware, along with favorable impressions of post-E3 builds of the game, managed to sway my opinion. Overall, I'd say that I'm pleased with how the Wii controls turned out. Aiming is truly superior to any kind of analog-stick system, with a degree of precision and immediacy that makes firing any projectile weapons viscerally enjoyable. It's a frequent sensation, also felt when you flick the controller to the side to draw your sword while barreling down on a hapless enemy.


One of my concerns, unfortunately, indeed came to fruition. Camera control has regressed from the totally-controllable system found in the Wind Waker to the center-behind-you system from Ocarina of Time. There were quite a few circumstances when I wished I could angle the camera to be higher, looking down on the action, and it was sorely missed. Even worse, there were circumstances when I simply couldn't perform a competent action or jump without angling the camera forward, but making camera control dependent upon the same button that controls Z-targeting made that necessity an impossibility. There would often be an enemy or item nearby that would, without fail, get locked onto when I pressed the button to center the camera, rendering camera manipulation impossible. It screwed me over a couple times, and really made the lack of a freely-controllable camera that much more noticeable. I can only imagine the camera control was omitted due to the lack of a second analog stick on the Wii Remote, but there's no reason why they couldn't have mapped camera control to positional tilts of the Nunchuck while holding down the C-button, relegating the first-person look to just a tap of the button. If I can so easily think up a solution, why couldn't they?

Since I'm talking about gripes, I'll bring up my other big one. There are too many freaking Rupees (currency in the Zelda universe) in this game. The vast majority of the secrets you can uncover are Rupee chests, which are really big let-downs. There aren't many interesting things to spend Rupees on, and you quickly fill your wallet to capacity. Not only that, but there's a seemingly great idea that's been implemented that only leads to annoyance. If your wallet is too full to accommodate the Rupees found in a chest, the game actually closes the chest and lets you come back for them later. While I exclaimed how cool an idea that was when it happened to me the first time, I later realized how problematic it is in dungeons.

If you have the compass in a dungeon, you can see the location of all treasure chests on your map. A significant amount of the exploration you'll do in a dungeon is based upon trying to locate those chests. If you find a chest with Rupees, though, and leave it closed, the chest icon stays exactly the same on the map. Later on in the dungeon when you're looking for a key that you missed, and glance at your map so you can search for a treasure chest that might contain it, you'll be presented with every Rupee chest that you left closed. If you don't remember which chests specifically you chose to leave closed, it's very likely that you'll work your way back to one only to find that it's the same chest you already couldn't open. Not only does this become irritating in terms of trying to make competent progress in the dungeon, but it makes it difficult for completionists that like to "clear" a dungeon by emptying it of all its treasure.

I eventually found a way to cheat the system (skip to the next paragraph if you want to avoid a very slight spoiler) by utilizing an ability that substitutes your Rupee count for your health meter. I'd equip the ability, which also drains Rupees just by being enabled, and hit myself with a few of my own bombs, lowering my Rupee count and allowing myself to open the chests. It's just an awful chore that could have easily been circumvented by marking found Rupee chests with a little Rupee icon on your map, or at least giving you the option to still empty them regardless of your ability to actually keep their contents. Better yet, the "bank" from Majora's Mask could have made a return, allowing you to store away your excess Rupees. As it stands, the game effectively punishes players that are good at uncovering secrets, as their "reward" is invariably an orange Rupee that they can't take with them.


Those are pretty much my only qualms, though. While annoying in their own right, they're piddling in comparison to the excellence present in the vast majority of the game. The main quest is compelling and challenging (not super-hard, but definitely not as easy as The Wind Waker), the sidequests are charming and plentiful, and it's a very meaty adventure overall. It's not as long as SOME people are claiming, though. Perhaps I'd just been tainted by the 95-odd hours I put into Final Fantasy XII immediately before I played Twilight Princess, but I felt like I blew through it pretty fast, which was a tiny bit disappointing.

While I was tremendously impressed by Shadow of the Colossus and Okami, revisiting Hyrule has reminded me of those intangible things that make up a Zelda game—things that can not be easily reproduced. The series proves, time and again, that it's truly the best at what it does. Twilight Princess serves to reiterate that fact as we head into the new generation, and I eagerly look forward to seeing how the next game in the series will be re-imagined when designed for the Wii from the ground up.