Post Script

Why Odyssey is the reinvention of the sandbox platformer we’ve been waiting for since 2002

Poor Sunshine. Given one of the hardest acts to follow in the medium’s history, the series’ GameCube outing fluffed its lines a bit, becoming the proverbial black sheep of 3D Marios. It’s all relative, of course: Sunshine remains superior to the vast majority of its peers, and the few games ahead of it all have ‘Mario’ in the title. And, in light of its obvious failings, its considerable achievements were all but overlooked. A straight sequel to Mario 64 would no doubt have been warmly welcomed, but Nintendo, as ever, resisted the easy option. Like Odyssey, Sunshine was a bold attempt to challenge established conventions, a shot at taking the series in a new direction, after establishing (and defining) the parameters of the sandbox platformer six years earlier. It didn’t quite land, but you could argue that Nintendo learned the wrong lessons from Sunshine’s comparatively lukewarm reception.

That isn’t to say Galaxy was a mistake; heavens above, far from it. But for all its giddy ambition, Mario’s voyage beyond the stars represented a calculated retreat from the freedom of Sunshine’s expansive environments. Even its larger landmasses offered little room to properly stretch your legs, with most stars requiring you to follow a linear path, even if that path did send you twirling balletically through the infinite blackness of space. A handful of objectives lay off the beaten track, sure, but warp stars that carried you directly to distant planetoids meant you weren’t really finding your own way there so much as being given an aggressive, if beautiful, shove in the right direction.

Odyssey, on the other hand, feels like a true rue reinvention of the sandbox platformer,ormer, building upon Mario 64’ s sturdy foundations ns and adding its own creative curlicues. Indeed, there ere are several overt nods to its forerunner, including the e paintings that warp you from one world to another. But t even these function a little differently, acting more as sneak peeks of what’s to come. Elsewhere, it throws outt entrenched ideas, frequently for the better. It does away with a lives system that has come to feel archaic.aic. Fall, and Nintendo hits you where it hurts: your wallet. t. Losing 10 coins might seem like pocket change, but when you’ve had your heart set on spending 1,000 of them just so you can have poor Mario exploring the Snow ow Kingdom in his boxers – or you’ve been saving up for the dozens of special outfits that shops begin to stock k once you’ve earned enough Moons – it’s punishmentt enough.

The game’s other currencies matter more, too. No longer do you hunt down purple coins for the sake of a single collectable, but for a more tangible reward. eward. Some of the region-specific outfits you can buy with ith these coins offer you access to new areas; others arere required to perk up NPCs, such as a glum businessmann who inexplicably wants to see Mario in his faintly terrifying clown garb. Yes, essentially it’s another hoop to jump through for jumping’s sake, but there’s something joyful about playing dress-up with a character that rarely gets to remove his dungarees – and, of course, seeing these costumes rendered in pixellated form during Odyssey’s 8bit interludes. And, on occasion, there’s a comedic pay-off: we heartily recommend wearing a thick winter coat in a sun-baked coastal setting, for instance.

By giving you a broader number of ways to collect Moons, it’s a game that’s more considerate of every type of player. Competitive types can earn them through races and other sporting challenges, many of which have their own leaderboards. Those looking for a sterner test, meanwhile, can descend pipes and wells to abstract environments that host more traditional tests of Mario’s athleticism. Those who simply want to see all the sights without touching the more taxing objectives can buy their way to progress, spending coins on Moons at each kingdom’s shop. Explorers can ignore the tips from Toads and parrots to find collectables, while for those who prefer a bit of guidance, an optional Assist mode turns on arrows that lead you to your next objective.

There’s also a stronger narrative drive. Every Kingdom takes you on a journey with an admittedly tenuous link to the wider story before it’s fully opened up, and many are transformed by your actions. Raising the temperature of the Sand Kingdom requires you to first reach the inverted pyramid at its heart, and then to descend into the hole it was plugging once it’s floated upward. Your introduction to the Metro Kingdom, meanwhile, takes place on a rain-lashed night, the city t teeming with stinging bugs as you face a fusillade of ta tank fire, before it’s ready to offer you a friendlier New Do Donk welcome. Crucially, you’re no longer kicked out afte after completing a main quest, either. There’s a brief fanf fanfare as you collect a Moon, but afterwards you’re free to ex explore at your own pace. Later, you’re offered the oppor opportunity to revisit the game’s boss fights separately, letting you enjoy some of Odyssey’s standout moments without diminishing the sense of achievement in making t these worlds a more pleasant place to be. And even befo before you’ve rescued Peach, you’ll notice tourists from other kingdoms popping up in new places.

In fact, as Odyssey’s various NPCs kick back and enjoy their v vacations, you might well be reminded of Sunshine’s ho holiday flavour – and in other ways it’s clear Nintendo has hasn’t forgotten Mario’s most divisive outing. As you scud ac across the surface of the Seaside Kingdom’s fizzy waters, you’llyo realise Nintendo has even found a way to pay homa homage to poor forgotten Fludd. When a game can make yo you feel nostalgic for that irksome little blighter, it’s clearly doing something right.

Odyssey builds upon Mario 64’s sturdy foundations and adds its own creative curlicues