First off, let me preface this entire post with me telling you that if you have a deep, unfathomable hatred of this game, that I understand where you're coming from. However, I would urge, even plead you to do what I did and give it another try. If your mind is still made up that every copy of it should burn in a fire, then so be it. I have the same feelings towards Little House On The Prarie.
However, if there is even a sliver of a chance for you to try it again, allow me to give an account of how I came to appreciate it as one of the most unforgettable and emotional gaming experiences I've ever had.
Let's all journey back in time briefly to 2000. It was a different time. We were all a bit more innocent then, and not just from a criminal charges standpoint. Personally, I had played the living hell out of Ocarina Of Time, and having heard about another Zelda coming out for the N64, I was ecstatic. I remember that cold autumn morning driving to wherever the hell I bought it from and thinking that this was going to be the greatest experience of my then 20 year old life.
To describe the sheer anger, confusion, disappointment, and dare I say, horror of what it was like for me playing it that morning would involve language that would result in the quickest, hardest ban ever from this board. The closest, non-foul-language way for me to convey my feelings would be to liken it to the control room at NASA when things explode that should not explode. Just a lot of yelling, utter disbelief of what was just witnessed, and wondering if the wrong button had been pressed.
Fast forward years later, Nintendo came out with a Gamecube bundle with both NES Zelda's, Ocarina, and Majora's Mask. I decided to give it another try, as I had broken the sound barrier to return my N64 copy many years ago.
It wasn't easy. Those same aggravations were there, but I decided that no matter what, I had to play it to completion.
For many people the biggest issue with the game is the mechanic where, in three days the moon falls on everybody's head and everything in the world resets. You lose your money, your bombs and arrows. Dungeons reset. People have no memory of you talking to them. Kind of like elderly people with dementia, only more annoying. Because in real life if your grandpa doesn't remember you it doesn't keep you from getting the damn Goron mask.
Getting past those annoyances is the key to that game. And understanding that there are certain things in place in that game that help you to overcome a lot of them. There's a bank for your money to go in so you can come back after the world resets. There's a song for your ocarina that slows down the time to a much more manageable pace. There are things you do that makes people not remembering you a non-issue. And while losing perishable items like bombs and arrows is a pain, you begin to get used to it. And it doesn't really matter so much anymore. You don't really care about it. Because you've become focused on the thing that, for me, makes this game unlike any other Zelda game- The NPC's.
In most Zelda games the characters in town or littered across the world are kind of just there to say the same lines over and over again, ask you thought provoking questions such as "Do you understand all of that?", and make us wonder if their design involved heavy use of controlled substances. Not so in Majora's Mask. Okay, so maybe the part about weird character designs still applies, but hear me out.
Now, understand that this is an N64 game we are talking about here with all the limitations it had. I'm not saying that the NPC's in Majora's Mask are the most multifaceted characters ever brought to life in a video game. But the things you do for them, the daily/nightly routines they have, the things they say, all combined, flesh them out in a way that no other Zelda did or has since.
You perform tasks for them, you help them in ways that benefit them specifically. I felt like I was doing more good for that world and the people in it beyond just laying waste to everything in the dungeons. Every Zelda game has some evil person, monster, or clothing item that you have to kill to death. And yes, that's certainly a good thing for the narrative and the characters in that world in a general, overarching way. But when you invest time into a quest to help a couple reunite before the world ends, it's a different feeling of accomplishment than beating a dungeon boss.
It's a hard thing to get me to actually care about people's lives in video games the way that Majora's Mask did. It's probably the best motivation for actually finishing the game. When you realize that these people are aware of their fate and, in their own way, are preparing for it (Cremia and Romani will break your heart) then you really feel like you have to do something about the situation. Afterwards you feel like you can have a meaningful impact in that world. I still remember how great I felt seeing the end credits with scenes of those same people celebrating, and literally being happy that they weren't going to die.
This wasn't a typical reaction for me to have. I've let my Sims catch on fire and laughed the whole time. I've run over countless people in GTA if the sidewalk was quicker. I blew up that one town in Fallout 3 as quickly as I could, because that mushroom cloud is awesome. I don't usually form attachments to in-game characters. Not NPC's, not even my own character.
But a Zelda game that a lot of people can't stand, including myself at one point, did it in a way that was completely unexpected and incredibly effective. The people that are normally taken for granted in a Zelda game suddenly come to the forefront and in many ways ARE the main quest. Which is a strange, wonderful change of pace.
I hope at least one person who reads this gives it another shot and sticks with it. Because I'm so glad I did.
Anyone else care to offer their thoughts?
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