The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Jul 21, 2019 8:08:51 GMT -5
Post by anayo on Jul 21, 2019 8:08:51 GMT -5
In the 90’s not everyone could afford to upgrade to Playstation and Nintendo 64 as soon as they came out. So, I grew up with 8 and 16 bit games, but they were either hand-me-downs or in the process of being liquidated from stores. Consequently there was a lot about that generation of video games I didn’t learn about until later. For instance I was unaware of the “Genesis does what Nintendont” ad campaign and schoolyard smack-talking that it engendered. I just saw Genesis as what I had at my house and SNES as that console I got to play at other kids’ houses. I didn’t have any notion that one was cooler than the other, or that I was supposed to root for mine like a sports team.
Something else from the 8 and 16 bit generations I had no idea about was The Legend of Zelda. I never saw it at any other kids’ houses, at an in-store kiosk, in magazines, or on TV. The first time I played a Zelda game was an Ocarina of Time demo kiosk at Wal-Mart. I ran around the Dodongo cavern, received advice from Navi, and accidentally fired the fairy slingshot while trying to come to grips with the controls. It was like catching a random episode of a TV show I hadn’t been following. I left the store unimpressed.
The Legend of Zelda didn’t become relevant to me until the 4th grade in 1999. I don’t remember specifically what my classmates were saying, they just spoke so enthusiastically about it. I could tell from the excitement in their voices that it was a massively big deal. I kept hearing about it over and over until finally I decided to get to the bottom of things. One day at Blockbuster I asked my Mom to rent it for me. She agreed and I took the game home to play it on my Nintendo 64.
As soon as I beat the Gohma in the Deku Tree I knew I desperately needed this game. I begged my Mom to buy it for my birthday. She said, “I can get it for you and you can open it early, but that’s going to be the only large gift you get. So you better be OK with not having anything to open on your actual birthday.” I was completely fine with this. Having nothing else to open on my birthday was a worthy price to pay for getting Zelda as soon as possible.
My experience with Zelda Ocarina of Time was through the eyes of a 9 year old. At that age, if a video game told me “It’s your destiny to save the world.”, I took it seriously in a way that an 29 year old never could. Something else to keep in mind is that this was during the transition from 2D to 3D in the 90’s - arguably one of if not the most impressive evolutions in gaming. I have never since seen another gaming generation that wrought such dramatic change on the way games look and play.
My other N64 games in 1999 - Mario 64, Banjo Kazooie, and 007 Goldeneye - all incorporated storytelling, but none of them did it to the same extent as Ocarina of Time. Mario 64 was fun, but I never mistook any of its stages for actual places where people carried on their day-to-day lives. I can’t say the same for Kokiri village, Hyrule castle, and Kakariko village. They felt like they were still alive and bustling even when I turned the game off. Seeing them in ruins after Ganondorf took over the world only cemented that feeling.
The cast in Ocarina of Time was so rich and colorful. I can’t tell you anything about gym leader #5 from Pokemon, but I still remember the stars of Ocarina of Time. Such as:
- Mido (the guy blocking Link’s path to the Deku tree), who despises Link. Later, after Ganondorf takes over the world, Mido regrets mistreating Link. Ironically, he admits this to adult Link, never realizing this grown man he’s confiding to is the very kid he bullied years ago.
- Princess Ruto, who acts stuffy and entitled at first. But after Link defeats the monster inside of King Jabu Jabu, she becomes smitten with him and gives him the Spritual Stone of Water under the mistaken pretense that it’s their engagement ring. Link awkwardly takes the stone from her and then runs away (at age 9 girls were still yucky so I certainly empathized!)
- Darunia, leader of the Gorons, is dismissive of Link and unwilling to help him at first. Later, when Link defeats the Dodongo, he earns Darunia’s respect. He calls Link “brother” and tries to give him a hug. This makes Link scream and run away (I thought this was hilarious when I first played it!) Also, Darunia LOVES Saria’s song when Link plays it for him on the Ocarina. He starts dancing his heart out in one of the game’s most smile-inducing scenes.
I’m not saying any of these characters qualify as deep literature or anything. But even in 2019 I don’t think most video game writing meets this quality level. Today’s M-rated games have lengthy expository cut scenes, but they’re less like Ocarina of Time and more like Pokemon Blue Version, where the characters are basically talking heads dispensing gameplay information. The fact that they speak in gravely voices and swear doesn’t make the characterization any better in my opinion.
Ocarina of Time’s camera work was stunning for the time. In the cut scenes, everything was framed with cinematic artistry, as though they put a lot of thought into the composition of each shot and the feelings it was supposed to evoke. Look at this:
The part where Navi tries to fly through the fence, bumps into it, then shakes her head to regain her composure was just so amazing the first time I saw it. I just wasn’t used to this kind of camera work in a video game. I guess there were camera sweeps in my other N64 games, but they were generally like “Hey check out this level. Cool, huh? OK, now start playing.” But in Ocarina of Time they were trying to use visual language like a film. I hadn’t seen a video game use the imposing forced perspective of Ganondorf towering over young Link
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QvlxoX1GjI&t=2h7m53s
or the Great Deku Tree explaining the lore of how Din, Naryu, and Farore created Hyrule,
or Impa directing Link to set out toward Death Mountain.
In 1999 my default expectations for video game exposition were more like this:
Zelda was also loaded with side quests and activities. On Sega Genesis, most of my games were arcade style experiences meant to be played in one sitting. The only exceptions used a passcode system (Urban Strike) or had an internal battery (Sonic 3). But in Ocarina of time you could participate in:
- archery contests
- bombchu bowling
- fishing (I spent hours doing this!)
- poe hunting
- planting magic beans
- collecting golden skultulas
- selling masks for the mask salesman
- the quest to get the big Goron sword
- hunting for heart pieces
This stuff is all pretty standard issue in today’s open world games, but I had never experienced so many things to do in a game before. It made Hyrule seem like such a vast place. It even stood a head and shoulders over my other N64 games.
The music in Ocarina of Time is a masterpiece. It’s every bit as catchy as Castlevania, Megaman 2, or Super Mario Bros. 2. But the sound track isn’t just action music to get your blood pumping, it can be sentimental, wistful, or forboding. Each song evokes a specific atmosphere or mood for each scene. The Ocarina of Time itself seemed like such a unique gameplay mechanic when I was first introduced to it.
One time I knew my grandma was coming over to visit. So I started a new save file and named Link “grandma”. Then I paused the game at this part:
When grandma came over I told her to look at the screen, where Saria greeted her, “Yahoo! Hi, Grandma!” That made her laugh.
Another time I told my mom I wished I lived in medieval times. She said, “Don’t say that. They used to burn people for witchcraft and die from the black plague then.” I backpedalled and said, “I meant that I wish I could live in Hyrule.” Mom said, “OK, that’s fine, just don’t say you want to live in medieval times.”
While I still had my Blockbuster rental and hadn’t yet received my birthday copy of Zelda, my Dad came in to see my playing and said, “It’s fine if you play that when it’s raining, but it’s too nice out now. You should do something else.” I said, “But we rented it from Blockbuster and we’ll have to return it soon.” I think in those days Dad was concerned about video games dragging my grades down. In another instance close to this timeframe he told me, “I don’t understand how you can memorize so many Pokemon but can’t keep up with the multiplication tables.” To be fair, I wasn’t doing very well in math when he said that. (I ended up as a liberal arts major though.)
I was so enamored with Ocarina of Time that I made my own fan comics about it. Of course I changed the story enough to make it an “original creation” and probably wouldn’t have admitted I was just making fan fiction. My version involved two heroes, not one, and they were time travelers from a sci-fi future who found themselves dropped in a medieval world with swords and magic. Also in Kokiri forest they used leaf-shaped hover boards for some reason.
My Mom enrolled me in Tae Kwon Do class at the YMCA. When we would practice kicks and punches in unison I would make the same noises as adult Link when he swings his sword. The instructor remarked, “Going down all the letters of the alphabet, aren’t we?” It’s a pretty cringey memory but it just shows he much I loved Ocarina of Time at that age.
Once around 2002 or so, I went to the house of a kid my age. I learned that he had a Nintendo 64, but neither Zelda Ocarina of Time nor Majora’s Mask. I saw this as a problem in need of fixing, so I lent him my Ocarina of Time cartridge. He accepted it, but then a short time later he gave it back to me. I asked, “Did you beat it that quickly?” He answered, “No. You like HARD games.” I have never thought someone’s tastes were so hopeless as when he said that.
Something else from the 8 and 16 bit generations I had no idea about was The Legend of Zelda. I never saw it at any other kids’ houses, at an in-store kiosk, in magazines, or on TV. The first time I played a Zelda game was an Ocarina of Time demo kiosk at Wal-Mart. I ran around the Dodongo cavern, received advice from Navi, and accidentally fired the fairy slingshot while trying to come to grips with the controls. It was like catching a random episode of a TV show I hadn’t been following. I left the store unimpressed.
The Legend of Zelda didn’t become relevant to me until the 4th grade in 1999. I don’t remember specifically what my classmates were saying, they just spoke so enthusiastically about it. I could tell from the excitement in their voices that it was a massively big deal. I kept hearing about it over and over until finally I decided to get to the bottom of things. One day at Blockbuster I asked my Mom to rent it for me. She agreed and I took the game home to play it on my Nintendo 64.
As soon as I beat the Gohma in the Deku Tree I knew I desperately needed this game. I begged my Mom to buy it for my birthday. She said, “I can get it for you and you can open it early, but that’s going to be the only large gift you get. So you better be OK with not having anything to open on your actual birthday.” I was completely fine with this. Having nothing else to open on my birthday was a worthy price to pay for getting Zelda as soon as possible.
My experience with Zelda Ocarina of Time was through the eyes of a 9 year old. At that age, if a video game told me “It’s your destiny to save the world.”, I took it seriously in a way that an 29 year old never could. Something else to keep in mind is that this was during the transition from 2D to 3D in the 90’s - arguably one of if not the most impressive evolutions in gaming. I have never since seen another gaming generation that wrought such dramatic change on the way games look and play.
My other N64 games in 1999 - Mario 64, Banjo Kazooie, and 007 Goldeneye - all incorporated storytelling, but none of them did it to the same extent as Ocarina of Time. Mario 64 was fun, but I never mistook any of its stages for actual places where people carried on their day-to-day lives. I can’t say the same for Kokiri village, Hyrule castle, and Kakariko village. They felt like they were still alive and bustling even when I turned the game off. Seeing them in ruins after Ganondorf took over the world only cemented that feeling.
The cast in Ocarina of Time was so rich and colorful. I can’t tell you anything about gym leader #5 from Pokemon, but I still remember the stars of Ocarina of Time. Such as:
- Mido (the guy blocking Link’s path to the Deku tree), who despises Link. Later, after Ganondorf takes over the world, Mido regrets mistreating Link. Ironically, he admits this to adult Link, never realizing this grown man he’s confiding to is the very kid he bullied years ago.
- Princess Ruto, who acts stuffy and entitled at first. But after Link defeats the monster inside of King Jabu Jabu, she becomes smitten with him and gives him the Spritual Stone of Water under the mistaken pretense that it’s their engagement ring. Link awkwardly takes the stone from her and then runs away (at age 9 girls were still yucky so I certainly empathized!)
- Darunia, leader of the Gorons, is dismissive of Link and unwilling to help him at first. Later, when Link defeats the Dodongo, he earns Darunia’s respect. He calls Link “brother” and tries to give him a hug. This makes Link scream and run away (I thought this was hilarious when I first played it!) Also, Darunia LOVES Saria’s song when Link plays it for him on the Ocarina. He starts dancing his heart out in one of the game’s most smile-inducing scenes.
I’m not saying any of these characters qualify as deep literature or anything. But even in 2019 I don’t think most video game writing meets this quality level. Today’s M-rated games have lengthy expository cut scenes, but they’re less like Ocarina of Time and more like Pokemon Blue Version, where the characters are basically talking heads dispensing gameplay information. The fact that they speak in gravely voices and swear doesn’t make the characterization any better in my opinion.
Ocarina of Time’s camera work was stunning for the time. In the cut scenes, everything was framed with cinematic artistry, as though they put a lot of thought into the composition of each shot and the feelings it was supposed to evoke. Look at this:
The part where Navi tries to fly through the fence, bumps into it, then shakes her head to regain her composure was just so amazing the first time I saw it. I just wasn’t used to this kind of camera work in a video game. I guess there were camera sweeps in my other N64 games, but they were generally like “Hey check out this level. Cool, huh? OK, now start playing.” But in Ocarina of Time they were trying to use visual language like a film. I hadn’t seen a video game use the imposing forced perspective of Ganondorf towering over young Link
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QvlxoX1GjI&t=2h7m53s
or the Great Deku Tree explaining the lore of how Din, Naryu, and Farore created Hyrule,
or Impa directing Link to set out toward Death Mountain.
In 1999 my default expectations for video game exposition were more like this:
Zelda was also loaded with side quests and activities. On Sega Genesis, most of my games were arcade style experiences meant to be played in one sitting. The only exceptions used a passcode system (Urban Strike) or had an internal battery (Sonic 3). But in Ocarina of time you could participate in:
- archery contests
- bombchu bowling
- fishing (I spent hours doing this!)
- poe hunting
- planting magic beans
- collecting golden skultulas
- selling masks for the mask salesman
- the quest to get the big Goron sword
- hunting for heart pieces
This stuff is all pretty standard issue in today’s open world games, but I had never experienced so many things to do in a game before. It made Hyrule seem like such a vast place. It even stood a head and shoulders over my other N64 games.
The music in Ocarina of Time is a masterpiece. It’s every bit as catchy as Castlevania, Megaman 2, or Super Mario Bros. 2. But the sound track isn’t just action music to get your blood pumping, it can be sentimental, wistful, or forboding. Each song evokes a specific atmosphere or mood for each scene. The Ocarina of Time itself seemed like such a unique gameplay mechanic when I was first introduced to it.
One time I knew my grandma was coming over to visit. So I started a new save file and named Link “grandma”. Then I paused the game at this part:
When grandma came over I told her to look at the screen, where Saria greeted her, “Yahoo! Hi, Grandma!” That made her laugh.
Another time I told my mom I wished I lived in medieval times. She said, “Don’t say that. They used to burn people for witchcraft and die from the black plague then.” I backpedalled and said, “I meant that I wish I could live in Hyrule.” Mom said, “OK, that’s fine, just don’t say you want to live in medieval times.”
While I still had my Blockbuster rental and hadn’t yet received my birthday copy of Zelda, my Dad came in to see my playing and said, “It’s fine if you play that when it’s raining, but it’s too nice out now. You should do something else.” I said, “But we rented it from Blockbuster and we’ll have to return it soon.” I think in those days Dad was concerned about video games dragging my grades down. In another instance close to this timeframe he told me, “I don’t understand how you can memorize so many Pokemon but can’t keep up with the multiplication tables.” To be fair, I wasn’t doing very well in math when he said that. (I ended up as a liberal arts major though.)
I was so enamored with Ocarina of Time that I made my own fan comics about it. Of course I changed the story enough to make it an “original creation” and probably wouldn’t have admitted I was just making fan fiction. My version involved two heroes, not one, and they were time travelers from a sci-fi future who found themselves dropped in a medieval world with swords and magic. Also in Kokiri forest they used leaf-shaped hover boards for some reason.
My Mom enrolled me in Tae Kwon Do class at the YMCA. When we would practice kicks and punches in unison I would make the same noises as adult Link when he swings his sword. The instructor remarked, “Going down all the letters of the alphabet, aren’t we?” It’s a pretty cringey memory but it just shows he much I loved Ocarina of Time at that age.
Once around 2002 or so, I went to the house of a kid my age. I learned that he had a Nintendo 64, but neither Zelda Ocarina of Time nor Majora’s Mask. I saw this as a problem in need of fixing, so I lent him my Ocarina of Time cartridge. He accepted it, but then a short time later he gave it back to me. I asked, “Did you beat it that quickly?” He answered, “No. You like HARD games.” I have never thought someone’s tastes were so hopeless as when he said that.