My name is Izzy, and I am the Retromancer, bringing the games of yesteryear back from beyond the grave.
So, Super Mario World. Anyone that had the Super Nintendo back in the day had this game. No, seriously - it was included with almost every single SNES system sold. We didn't even get a choice, really, but unlike many of the crappy pack-in games of the modern era, it wasn't an afterthought.
In fact, Super Mario World is not only one of the most beloved games on the system, it set a standard for next-gen gaming (coming off of the tremendous successes of the NES Marios) that, even now Nintendo tries to emulate with every new console iteration. In the NES/SNES transition era, this boiled down to one word:
YOSHI.
Yeah, I said it. Adding Yoshi was the one overarching feature of SMW that made it so awesome. It wasn't even Yoshi him/her/itself that was important, it was the fact that it was a new addition to the Mario franchise that was perfectly balanced and blended into the existing Mario infrastructure so well that it felt like Yoshi had always been there.
That's what good video game innovation is, people - adding something new to a game that perfectly dovetails with everything else.
Think about it - Mario 3 (the most well-regarded and innovative NES Mario) added a flight mechanic to Mario, which changed Mario's gameplay tremendously. Not only was the player's area of influence horizontal in scope, now it was vertical. Levels opened up, and suddenly there was a whole new realm to explore. Hell - remember World 5-9? Probably not by name, but two words: Diagonal Autoscrolling. You're remembering it now, I bet.
Almost every single Mario 3 level had additional stuff hidden off-screen that only someone with the P-Wing, the Leaf, or the Tanuki Suit could access. Couple this with brilliant level design and fantastic music, and it made Mario 3 the best thing we could experience without having to worry about our moms coming in and catching us with our hands around our dangle.
So yeah - flight was the big new thing that made Mario 3 so much more awesome than either of its predecessors. We loved it!
So let's take a look at Yoshi, shall we? What makes him so damn cool?
For starters, he's like an extra, instantly recoverable life point. SMW adheres to the standard Mario formula which states: "Any damage Mario takes automatically turns him into Little Mario, regardless of his current powerup." But here's the thing - you get hit riding Yoshi, and you get knocked off. Yoshi runs around in a panic, but you can jump right back on while taking no effective damage!
Secondly, the tongue that makes Gene Simmons greener than Yoshi (see what I did there?) with envy. You can eat enemies, dude! And you can pick up items that are out of your reach, like keys behind walls and stuff, or you can eat green berries to add to the level timer, or red ones for coins...it's awesome, truly amazing.
Okay, so nearly a quarter-century later, Yoshi's been in pretty much every single Mario game since. Some have rocked like Yoshi's Island, and others have been forgettable. So what makes the SMW Yoshi so awesome?
In my opinion, it's balance.
Balance in a game is essentially an algebraic formula, the function of which is to determine whether the difficulty of any particular challenge in said game is appropriate for both its audience (the player) and its pacing (how soon the challenge is encountered with relation to the audience's experience).
Super Mario World's balance is absolutely flawless. At the beginning of the game, you've got wide-open levels with newbie-friendly enemy placement and geography that's geared towards your survival. Example - the very first level of the game, Yoshi's Island 1. There is a single Koopa enemy that slides down a small outcropping and which practically invites you to jump stomp on.
Now, keep in mind, that you're Small Mario at this point. So, you jump on the Koopa, grab a Dragon Coin, and drop back to the ground again. Then BAM! A giant Banzai Bill appears. But hang on a second - it flies right over your head. Right away, you know to expect Banzai Bills throughout the level. Then, and ONLY then, does the game give you a flying '?' block with a Mushroom inside.
Think about it. In the first ten seconds of the game, you've been taught everything you can expect from that level, as well as some core concepts of the game itself. Enemies can either be stomped or avoided. The game exists on multiple height levels. There are special items to collect. You can duck or simply move beneath some enemies. Powerups can be anywhere.
At this point, the game is a cakewalk. And when you get Yoshi in the next level, Yoshi's Island 2, you start steamrolling through the levels. You. Are. A. GOD. A mustachioed, overalls-wearing, physics-defying rotund little Italian God. And by the time you hit the Second World's first level, Donut Plains 1, you've learned just about everything the game has to teach you. So the challenges start ramping up.
Remember that pacing thing I mentioned? This is that. I'll expand on that later.
Levels get more complex. Enemies start appearing in places where they actually become inconvenient to you. It becomes harder and harder to crush levels, and you start focusing more on just getting through them on Yoshi. By the time you've hit the Butter Bridge levels, you're spinning, ducking, twirling, jumping, and stomping like an epileptic ninja on meth just to try and survive. Having Yoshi at this point is less of a free license to crush all in your path and more of one tiny additional foothold on the edge of the Cliffs of Asskickery.
And it's at this point where I think Yoshi's presence truly shines. It's not because he's the only thing standing between you and a Game Over - it's because now the player is forced to make real decisions when and where to sacrifice Yoshi!
By getting the game-changing element of Yoshi so early on in the game, SMW has tricked the player into becoming somewhat dependent upon it. While in earlier levels, the presence of Yoshi practically guaranteed that a level would be a walk in the park, sometime around the middle of the game, the level designs start to actually pit themselves against the presence of Yoshi. One of Yoshi's greatest downsides is that he cannot fly (unless it's the rare Blue Yoshi, available in only a single level or through the Yoshi's Wings item, which is only found in a few levels). Levels start appearing with obstacles that put themselves in the path of a Yoshi-riding Mario, which introduces the element of Player Choice. By introducing challenges specifically geared against the presence of the heretofore-OP Yoshi, players are forced to make a decision. Should they leave Yoshi behind to more easily get through a challenge? Or should they stubbornly maintain their grip on what allowed them to get this far in the first place?
See, here's a perfect example of a real choice in games. Unlike in Mass Effect, where your responses are chosen from a set list and are pretty much just the 'Bastard and the Saint Conundrum' (which is a self-coined term used to describe any so-called decision in a game where the player is forced to choose only between two moral extremes), Super Mario World introduces the element of Player Choice on a personal, immediate level directly to the player himself. Allowing the player to come to the realization of the choice itself is pure genius, and instead of being thrust into the player's face at a predetermined point in the game (though the layout of the levels can certainly influence when the choice becomes more obvious), the dilemma becomes less of a simple game mechanic and can actually connect on an emotional level with the player.
That's pretty deep for a Mario game. The concept of an ally being expendable, and the fact that the act of expenditure itself might in fact be more beneficial? That's heavy.
So what does all this have to do with why Super Mario World is so awesome? Well, it has to do with a game design concept known as Flow Theory.
Back in 2004, a guy by the name of Raph Koster wrote a book called 'A Theory of Fun for Game Design', where he talks about how and why games are or are not fun. There's a lot more to the book, but he basically states that "the fun of games comes from skill mastery", which basically means that for a game to be 'fun', players need to be able to achieve within a game a mental state that a Hungarian psychologist name Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called 'the flow', which is a state of extreme focus where you ignore everything but the task on which you're concentrating. In this state, you can accomplish amazing things almost by reflex, making choices without complex rationalization and instead becoming totally reliant on instinct. You all know what being in the flow is like, especially if you're a gamer.
Csikszentmihalyi states that there are three requirements for the existance of a flow state:
1 - You need to be performing a challenging activity that requires skill.
2 - The activity must provide clear goals and feedback.
3 - The outcome is uncertain but can be influenced by your actions. (On a side note, Csikszentmihalyi calls this the 'paradox of control': you are in control of your actions which gives you indirect control over the outcome, but you do not have direct control over the outcome itself)
The interesting thing about this mental state is that when you're in it, your brain is literally pumping four different neurochemicals into your body: Dopamine, GABA, Serotnin, and Adrenaline. I'm not going to go in depth on them, but basically Dopamine gives that sense of pleasure when you accomplish a goal, GABA is what gives you that crazy Zen-like calm focus, Serotonin gives you that confidence and drive to proceed, and Adrenaline gives you the energy to keep going, and also eliminates things like boredom.
For the Flow State to be achieved in a game, it needs to provide a challenge. It can't be too easy, otherwise the brain doesn't engage because there isn't a need. If it's too hard, then there's no reason to get in the flow, because the brain knows it will fail anyway. The goal of any good game is to hit that sweet spot and provide enough of a challenge that it won't be too easy to just saunter on through.
You'll notice immediately, that SMW doesn't quite conform perfectly to that model. In fact, I made mention of how, thanks to Yoshi's presence in the early part of the game, the play can steamroller through.
Believe it or not, this is a good thing, and more games should follow this model. While challenge in a game is necessary, it has to be naturally produced. Artificial challenge is the antithesis of the concept of balance within a game. It's where an unfair or unrealistic obstacle is introduced at a point where the player cannot be reasonably expected to overcome them at the point wherein they are encountered or with the information they've been given at that point. A lot of old Atari games suffer from this problem - Raiders of the Lost Ark for the Atari 2600 is an example. Modern games, ironically, go a bit too far in the opposite direction, loading down the player with tutorials and action-specific buttons at the outset in an obnoxious on-screen display.
The goal of any good game is to teach the player about the mechanics of the game by the very act of playing - how the player's Avatar functions within the realm of the game. Super Mario World excels at this - it starts off nice and easy, and gradually increases the challenge bit-by-bit, expecting the player to have understood and comprehended the lessons taught previously and throwing ever-increasingly more difficult obstacles in the player's way, but never so much that the player gets frustrated or upset. This is called conveyance. A lot of modern games have problems with the concept of 'teach-as-you-play'. They're so in love with their own plotline or graphical prowess that they add gimmicks like regenerating health or unlimited ammo, which weaken the challenge and, consquently, the sense of accomplishment from overcoming said challenge.
A good example of a modern game that demonstrates excellent conveyance is Borderlands 2. Action buttons appear on the screen only when close to actionable items, and are both evident and unobtrusive to the gameplay. Button layout is actually explained through dialogue, which is much more memorable than a diagram on a screen, and is then immediately implemented in a useful, comprehensive manner.
SMW's challenges are very real, and very natural. They exist solely for the purpose of directing the player and easing him or her into The Flow naturally. Regardless of your initial skill level and whether or not you've ever played the game before, SMW does this for everyone who sits down with it. In a way, SMW is deceptive. You never really notice that you're slipping into The Zone because it's such a natural, well-designed journey to get there. And that's why, even after more than two decades, Super Mario World still shines as one of the finest examples of Nintendo's ingenuity and charm in the entire history of the company.
Pacing. Remember that?
I think it's well past time for video game companies to take a step back and re-examine their criteria for game production, and I would recommend that each and every one of them sit their design teams down with Super Mario World.
And it's all thanks to Yoshi. Whatever his function or influence in later games in the Mario series, in SMW, Yoshi shines with the bright light of gaming perfection, turning what might otherwise have been just a very good Mario game into a great Mario game. I can't imagine what the world would be like without him, and I hope I never have to. Gaming gained more than anyone ever realized thanks to the dino with the funny voice and a saddle, and we've never even said thank you. So thanks, Yoshi. Thank you for everything you've inspired, from everyone who has ever sat down with Super Mario World. Here's to another twenty-four years of gaming goodness.
Remember, my name is Izzy, and I am the Retromancer - bringing the games of yesteryear back from beyond the grave.
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I am DoctorDan, making a second account which is completely against NA's rules.
Edited: 05/02/2014
at 02:04 PM
by TheRetromancer