Super Metroid: Ode to a Space Bounty Hunter

On a sunny summer afternoon at a house somewhere in suburban America, children's laughter could be heard as they frolic around in the backyard and splish-splash in the pool. It was their then fifth grade classmate's 11th birthday, and while these kids celebrate together for what would likely be the last time many of them would see each other, the boy of the hour has seemingly disappeared.

You see, while everyone was having a joyous time socializing as they stuffed their faces with Carvel Ice Cream Cake, the now missing child quietly snuck away with a rectangular box in hand, leaving behind the remnants of wrapping paper from birthday gifts that may well have been a pile of forgotten artifacts from the past.

In the cold, tile-floored kitchen of the house is a Sony Trinitron sitting on the counter, and resting on top of it was a gray and purple box with a freshly-scented game cartridge jammed into it. Sitting in front of this terminal of digital bliss is the missing young boy, newly found by some of the exhausted kids that came inside to escape the blistering summer heat. As they all sat around the kitchen table, the young boy doesn’t even register that they are there, as his attention was in the full ownership of the glowing tube that was now speaking to him:

“The last Metroid is in captivity, the galaxy is at peace.”

Now completely awestruck and blown away by the spoken words that came directly from the Mono speaker of the 13" TV set, it all started to feel very personal, as the legendary space bounty hunter, Samus Aran, starts typing her mission report, as if she were talking directly to him.

While escaping SR388, the home world of the Metroid, Samus Aran encountered a newly hatched Metroid that followed her like a confused child. Seeing it as a non-threat, Samus hands the last living Metroid to the scientists at the Ceres Galactic Research Facility for further research on the species. Shortly after leaving to pursue her next mission, Samus receives a distress signal—the Ceres Station was under attack.

The research facility is eerily quiet upon entering. It is quickly discovered that everyone is dead and the baby Metroid is missing. As Samus investigates further, she got into a brief battle with the culprit behind the attack. It was Ridley, a Space Pirate that Samus fought many years ago. Ripley escapes with the Metroid in hand, and following close behind, Samus tracks him down to Planet Zebes—a planet once thought destroyed after an epic battle with the vicious Space Pirate leader, Mother Brain.

While exploring the surface of the planet, everything is almost exactly as it was all those years ago. But further below things start looking a lot different. The Space Pirates that were once thought to have been exterminated have returned here for some reason, and it is now up to Samus Aran to put an end to them once and for all.

To say that Super Metroid is one of the most important and influential games of my life would be an understatement. It planted the seeds of what would seep into the foundation of who I was and what I loved. The dark and moody atmosphere set a tone that would later cause me to clamor to find in other forms of media. It was layered with an ambient, orchestral, and sometimes somber soundtrack that was no doubt an early introduction to the type of music I would end up developing a taste for—specifically the Experimental, Industrial and Dark Wave genres. The game was also released at the start of a pivotal moment in my childhood, arriving mere months before being thrust into the awkward and confusing state of being that was middle school.

Much like Samus Aran, I too had just entered a place that was somewhat familiar on the surface, but became more dangerous and horrific the deeper I went. And much like Samus, bloody and bruised, I also managed to weather through and survive all of the life-threatening obstacles that lie in my path. While all of that does sound pretty hyperbolic and a gross exaggeration of my actual experience, it’s more or less exactly how my youthful mind perceived things at the time. In reality Earthbound was probably a better representation of what I was actually going through, especially with Ness being around the same age I was. But Super Metroid more or less represented just how alienated and alone I sometimes felt during that period of my adolescence.

Super Metroid has been a very big part of my life. It is probably the game I’ve replayed the most, and one of the few that I can say I'm actually good at. I have a very fond memory of wasting an entire Saturday afternoon doing a speed-run to get the best ending. While the rest of my family were out being productive members of society, I was bunkered down in my room, perfecting the art of the wall jump to figure out ways to gain access to items and areas early in order to shave a few minutes off my time. After a few hours, many save reloads, and with the aid of a guide from a gaming magazine I cannot recall the name of, I was successfully able to achieve the lucrative best ending. The only reward for the best ending was Samus removing her power suit, but to me it was a true achievement that gave me a great sense of accomplishment for the rest of that weekend.

I never intended for this to turn into a memoir about my childhood, but things just naturally drifted into that direction while I was writing this, as taking a more personal approach seemed far more interesting than regurgitating the same praise the game has received over these past few decades. The fact of the matter is that Super Metroid is inarguably a bona fide classic that helped define a genre, and its inspiration still remains strong to this very day. In my most humble opinion it is a perfect, Five Stars, 10/10, no notes kind of game. And as silly as it might sound, it is also a game that offered a place for me to escape to for a while whenever I needed it the most. Super Metroid is without question my favorite game of all time and is one that will forever hold a special place in my heart.