Reggie Fils-Aimé: Thank you, Mr. Iwata. I hope you've all enjoyed our program this morning. Liam: E3 2004. Nintendo’s conference is coming to an end. Members of the press witnessed Reggie Fils-Aime’s
first public appearance as the face of Nintendo of America. He revealed the Nintendo DS, while Satoru
Iwata hinted at Nintendo’s next home console - the Revolution. And with trailers for Metroid Prime 2 and
Resident Evil 4, the show had plenty for people to get excited about. But they had one last surprise planned for
the show. The lights dimmed and a piece from the 1982
film “Conan the Barbarian” plays over a trailer for a new game. For the time, its graphics seemed impressive,
but mild interest would turn to excitement as the entire Kodak Theatre erupted into cheers. Mirroring the classic Ocarina of Time commercial
from 1998 - complete with a similar editing style and the same accompanying music - Nintendo
revealed the next Legend of Zelda game to be in the same vein as the one that everybody
remembered. And to cap everything off, Shigeru Miyamoto
stepped out after the trailer concluded, equipped with the Master Sword and Hylian Shield. It lives on as one of E3’s most memorable
moments...but the game’s reveal and the reactions of those present shed light on the
bigger picture. Nintendo’s previous Zelda game - The Wind
Waker - was bolder and more emotionally resonant than general audiences in the west gave it
credit for at the time, and its art style was emblematic of its thesis. Contemporary critics loved it, and while it
certainly had its issues, its reputation has only improved with time. Unfortunately, Nintendo didn’t have time
on their side during the GameCube era, and they wouldn’t be able to witness the true
impact left by Wind Waker until much later. The GameCube’s sales were disappointing,
and even if they had no immediate effect on Wind Waker upon release, the game’s sales
would’ve still been well below Ocarina of Time anyway due to the art direction’s lukewarm
reception in the west. Simply put - the loudest voices at that time
belonged to those that wanted something closer to what they remembered. As a result, Eiji Aonuma was forced to put
aside his idea of a direct sequel to Wind Waker in favour of something that would win
over international audiences. With the successor to the GameCube on the
horizon and millions of nostalgic fans looking Nintendo’s way, Aonuma and his team were
faced with a responsibility unlike any other. If they were to promise a game that follows
closely in Ocarina of Time’s footsteps, they’d damn well better deliver. Now, they could have just attempted to make
a better version of Ocarina of Time, but that wouldn’t have been enough, and conceding
to the idea that they couldn’t beat their previous work might’ve come off as a sign
of weakness. And in times of weakness, it’s human nature
to crave power. Ocarina of Time holds a lot of power in the
medium of video games, and simply trying to replicate it over and over again would render
their work on the Zelda series hollow. That’s why I’m glad they didn’t let
that power go to their heads. After all, a sword wields no strength unless
the hand that holds it has courage. And the people behind Zelda have proven time
and time again that they are more than worthy of wielding the proverbial blade. With that said…the consensus on Twilight
Princess has been anything but consistent over the past fifteen years. I’ve heard several positive and negative
viewpoints on the game, with even a close friend of mine feeling as though this game
crumbled under the pressure of trying to live up to Ocarina of Time. Only recently have I seen people organize
their thoughts in defense of the game, a sign that it had received a substantial amount
of criticism for one reason or another. I’ve been following Zelda for about as long
as I can remember. When this game came out - I thought it was
awesome, and that sentiment stayed with me across my subsequent playthroughs. Was I missing something? In order to come to my own conclusion, I wanted
to figure out where this game’s identity truly lies. Zelda has a particularly malleable formula. The basic conventions established in Link
to the Past afforded the team great freedom to experiment, and I don’t think the series
can move forward without that experimentation. Majora’s Mask and Wind Waker were two incredibly
fruitful experiments - at least, to me. Majora’s Mask used its central three-day
cycle mechanic to encourage people to seek out sidequests and get stronger. Wind Waker used the Great Sea to encourage
exploration and powering up at your own pace, with the game being about the journey rather
than the destination. Both games offered a similar degree of freedom
in very different contexts. Twilight Princess is also focused on the journey,
but from the opposite perspective. It’s linear, and it wants you to experience
things in a very specific way. As such, I’ve seen plenty of complaints
over the years directed at the game’s pacing, lack of freedom, and its adherence to the
elements that made Ocarina of Time special not allowing it to have a voice of its own,
among other things. But I believe the team is and always has been
responsible, and as a result - I also believe the game is the way it is by choice, for better
or worse. In many ways, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight
Princess is a game about responsibility. Taking responsibility with power, for your
friends, your family, your world, and your own mistakes. They incorporated these philosophies into
both game design and narrative, and created something that survives as a powerful and
memorable standalone Zelda game. In this video, I’ll be going over how I
believe the game establishes its identity, how the developers handled the game responsibly,
and how the game conveys its message about responsibility through its characters and
its world. My goal is to inspire some newfound appreciation
for this game if possible. Not because I think the game is perfect, but
because I think the game is important. I’m Liam Triforce and this is a video about
The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. Originally, I was going to begin this video
with a glowing analysis of Ordon Village, and how it foreshadows the themes that the
game would go on to address. I’d bridge into the mystery of Hyrule Castle,
the happenings in Faron Woods, et cetera. An all-encompassing breakdown of the importance
of Twilight Princess’ introduction. And then I scrapped it. Truth be told, it felt disingenuous to positively
assess an introduction that I don’t really like. I still have positive feelings toward the
introduction, and we’ll talk about those feelings in time. But it would be unfair to brush aside the
issues that plague one the most important aspects of a video game - the first impression. First impressions are incredibly important
to me. If I can’t get into a game after a certain
period of time with it, it’s unlikely that I’ll feel inclined to continue. I think that’s a fair stance to take; my
time on this planet is limited. I cherish it. Very few games have pushed me beyond that
barrier of entry at the prospect of furthering my enjoyment. A previous Zelda game - Majora’s Mask - was
one of those games. Out of a desire to experience the emotional
depth and utter genius it had to offer, I committed to a full playthrough in spite of
how unwelcome its first moments are. Eventually, I discovered that the information
seeking you need to do in order to restore your original form is applicable to everything
you do in the game. Whether you’re trying to solve the mystery
of Snowhead or fill out your Bomber’s Notebook by helping people with their problems - the
more you put into Majora’s Mask, the more you get out of it. Twilight Princess’ introduction isn’t
confusing or abrasive or anything like that - it’s just boring, and whether or not you
come to enjoy the game is contingent on your willingness to slog through it to get to the
good stuff. Therefore, in order to understand how I came
to appreciate Twilight Princess, we must first look at how I came to value its terrible first
act. It’s no secret that the game begins…slowly. Actually, that is an understatement. I’ve played through this game over half
a dozen times. On my latest playthrough it took me about
three hours to finally set foot in Hyrule Field, and I have no doubt that it’ll likely
take even longer for first time players. When you step back and examine what happens
in this timeframe, it might seem like a lot. Ordon Village, Hyrule Castle, Tears of Light,
Forest Temple - these are all relatively beefy portions of the game from a broad glance,
but they all take place in Faron Woods (with the obvious exception of Hyrule Castle). And with the exception of the Forest Temple,
all of these sequences either focus on tutorials or otherwise have you navigate through areas
you’ve already visited. Ordon Village, for example, may be structured
like the Kokiri Forest in Ocarina of Time, but the context for its events are much different,
and the tasks you carry out are…dull, to put it lightly. Both have you collecting a certain amount
of rupees before you proceed, which introduces ways to make money and plants the first seeds
of problem-solving in your mind. However, whereas Ocarina of Time had you fetch
a sword and buy a shield so that you could enter the Deku Tree and prove your worth,
Twilight Princess has you running errands for people around the village, with each task
connecting to the next, until you can finally purchase the slingshot. Stuff like fetching a cradle for Rusl’s
pregnant wife, catching a fish for Sera’s cat so that you can get it to return home,
and goat herding. A lot of goat herding. I think it works the first time as you can
become acclimated with the way your horse controls, but they have you do it again before
leaving the village, and once more on a time limit for a Piece of Heart. It’s not exactly the most exciting task
to repeat. The segment after Ordon Village is a little
better. The game has you searching for Talo after
he runs off on his own into the woods. This portion is more representative of what
the game eventually becomes, with linear progression through new areas and occasional exploration
of suspicious areas with your currently equipped arsenal. Even this early on, your curiosity can lead
you to a Piece of Heart. It’s a pretty great tutorial because Twilight
Princess rarely strays from this path in terms of pacing. It primarily focuses on linear progression
from dungeon to dungeon, and rarely do sidequests and additional content attempt to pull you
away from that. Also, two Heart Pieces can be found in each
dungeon, so it becomes evident early on what the designers wanted to do with this game. We’ll talk more about that as it becomes
relevant. As decent as this part is, the game is still
taking a while to build its momentum properly. By this point in my playthrough of Ocarina
of Time, I’d be well into Hyrule looking for Princess Zelda, and in Wind Waker there’s
a chance I’d be on my way to clearing the Forsaken Fortress. Twilight Princess, however, turns you into
a wolf here and has you escaping the dungeon of Hyrule Castle. This part is good for helping you become acclimated
with Wolf Link’s abilities, as this form offers an entirely new paradigm for exploring
the world and solving puzzles. You can reach places that you otherwise couldn’t,
dig for secret areas and pathways, and combat is an absolute breeze thanks to the power
granted to you in your beastial form. But the biggest problem is that the game has
so much of its runtime thus far teaching the player about…stuff. Even after you return to Faron Woods, you’ll
need to fetch a sword and shield from the village, and then run around areas you’ve
already seen collecting Tears of Light. When you FINALLY fill the vessel and return
to your usual self again, you’ll STILL have to navigate the same areas once more, with
the deeper woods filled with a thick poisonous fog that you must SLOWLY navigate in order
to finally reach the Forest Temple. This process - from the moment I created a
save file to the moment I entered the dungeon - took me about two hours, and I’ve played
this game several times. If we were to compare the same two hour timeframe
to, say, Ocarina of Time and Wind Waker, I’d already be entering the second dungeon of
each game in that time. Wind Waker in particular has plenty of side
content for you to familiarize yourself with in that time as well, thanks to Windfall Island,
Pawprint Isle and a couple of accessible side quests on Dragon Roost Island. Even after you clear the Forest Temple, the
elements that plague the game’s first two hours still linger in the leadup to the next
two dungeons, primarily when you have to collect Tears of Light. Regardless of the impact it has on exploring
those new areas…you’re still performing the same task three times over. The repetition and slow pace of this game
persists for quite a while, with the second dungeon - the Goron Mines - being a particularly
egregious example. Magnetizing yourself to surfaces using the
Iron Boots is a really cool new idea for an old Zelda item, but in practice this just
results in very slow gameplay. You have to slowly navigate across these magnetic
surfaces in order to reach new areas, and both Heart Pieces involve this in some way. The part where you’re walking on the ceiling
is cool to look at, but it is unbearably monotonous to navigate, ESPECIALLY if you take a detour
for a Heart Piece. From my own experience, and from discussing
this game with people that don’t really like it - all of these things I’ve mentioned
are the elements I commonly associate with eroding a player’s interest in the game,
and in retrospect - I’m astonished that the same didn’t happen to me. Coming off of Wind Waker, a game that thrived
on being an open-ended sandbox - I should’ve hated this game. And yet…I didn’t. In fact, I embraced pretty much everything
about this game and had tons of fun with it when all was said and done. Like I said, I almost began this video with
a glowing overview of this game’s introduction in spite of everything it does wrong. And that is because I believe its first hours
convey EXACTLY what the game is going for, and it establishes a lot of what people love
about this game - even when that may not seem like the case. That leaves us with the question of… what
exactly IS this game going for? Let’s rewind back to Ordon Village because
one of the first clues as to what this game is trying to convey can be seen in our protagonist. This incarnation of Link is very special to
me because I believe he is uniquely responsible. When previous incarnations of Link got their
start, they were depicted as lazy and unwilling. However, something important to them takes
them on a journey of epic proportions, and their worldview begins to evolve as they embark
on adventures, grow up, and defeat Ganondorf. The responsibilities are larger than life
and gradually build as their adventure continues. On the other hand, the Link in this game already
has plenty of responsibilities within his community, and he seems content with attending
to them, no matter how menial the tasks may seem. When Talo runs off into the woods and gets
kidnapped, he runs after him in spite of the danger of doing so. He cares a lot about the people in his life;
so much so that he’s willing to do ANYTHING for them, and he asks for nothing in return. Whether that means herding goats for the umpteenth
time or saving them from monsters in the woods - he’ll do it. He is selfless, brave, and responsible - three
qualities you’re likely to find in a hero, and he hasn’t saved the world or anything. He is simply taking care of his village. As such, the monotony of these tasks feel
deliberate in making you value the simplicity of helping those around you. In contrast to the extravagant circumstances
of previous Zelda games that defined our protagonists as heroes, running errands around the village
is what made Link a hero from the beginning. Throughout the game, a great chunk of his
journey is spent reuniting the people of his village, and inspiring those around him with
the sense of responsibility and selflessness that has already been established. Saving the world is just a bonus, and that’s
why I value this Link. It’s a boring intro to a boring life, and
he likes it that way. It’s not often that an adventure game like
Zelda can depict something like this with such humanity, but Twilight Princess absolutely
nails that feeling. Twilight Princess excels in two key areas
- atmosphere and linearity. Both elements benefit from one another, and
the game would not be what it is without them co-existing and balancing each other out. Precisely because you are experiencing things
in a specific order, the game’s story beats and memorable gameplay moments can be much
stronger, without anything else getting in the way. And in order to carry this structure, the
game uses atmosphere to great effect. It takes you OUT of what you’re doing and
reminds you of WHY you’re doing it, and how you feel about it. It doesn’t always work, but when it does
- Twilight Princess is at its best. In order to enhance your introduction to Wolf
Link, exploring Hyrule Castle is made utterly creepy. Spirits of soldiers are trapped and paralyzed
with fear, and there is an aura of mystery surrounding the whole thing. I couldn’t help but want to see it through. And after reaching the rooftops, you’ll
finally get a glimpse into one of Twilight Princess’ greatest accomplishments in overall
atmosphere - twilight. The discomfort that twilight can evoke is
what carries Twilight Princess’ slower moments over the hill. It doesn’t just exist in isolation from
the rest of the game; when you can see how it has affected the various regions of Hyrule
- it becomes just as saddening as it is beautiful. First, let’s elaborate on what makes the
twilight so impactful. One of the first things that is likely to
catch your eye is the gold tinge that permeates every region it touches. This is first and especially apparent on the
roof of Hyrule Castle, wherein the thick fog is illuminated by the twilight surrounding
it. As you walk around, you’ll see pieces of
the twilight rise from the ground, which is reminiscent of the portals in which Shadow
Beasts fall from. There’s an odd elegance to them, which is
emblematic of the kind of beauty that the twilight resonates with. It feels weird to say that, but that’s genuinely
how I feel. I’ll give you an example - when twilight
envelops a portion of the world, the monsters within each region are transformed into Shadow
Beasts. The looks of these things are undeniably disturbing,
but I find myself fascinated by them. My absolute favourite is the Shadow Kargarok. Their heads are completely hollowed out and
they emit sounds that I can only liken to distorted trumpets. It’s a gnarly idea and one of my favourite
enemy designs in a Zelda game. However, the element that ties it all together
is unquestionably the music. This composition is one of those incredible
works of art that feels as if it exists within the game world, rather than just serving as
accompaniment. It is this disconcerting, atonal series of
noises that make you feel isolated and often disgusted. There is nothing welcoming about the twilight
as it surrounds Hyrule, and the music sure as hell captures that. It does a great job of making you feel unwelcome
in your own world. And yet…that’s what makes twilight fascinating. For a further exploration of this, let’s
look at the other regions, and how they end up recovering. In addition to Faron Woods, twilight has a
chokehold on Death Mountain and Lake Hylia as well, and they’ve devastated once beautiful
areas in often very depressing ways. On the outskirts of Death Mountain sits Kakariko
Village, where the kids that were kidnapped from Ordon have taken refuge. This is the second area in which you have
to retrieve Tears of Light and revive the Light Spirit, but what always strikes me about
this incarnation of Kakariko is how shaken up it is even after you restore light to it. Kakariko Village is often depicted as a peaceful
retreat from the rest of Hyrule. It’s a humble village, in which people are
living out their lives to the best of their abilities. In that sense, it’s a lot like Ordon Village. In Twilight Princess, however, it has been
torn to shreds. A few survivors remain hidden in its buildings
maintaining hope, despite how dire the circumstances are. In appearance and in mood…it actually closely
mirrors Link to the Past’s Kakariko Village after it was devastated by evil. To solidify this connection, Kakariko Village
in Twilight Princess includes a piece of the Dark World’s theme from A Link to the Past. Specifically, the piece of the melody that
represents that lingering feeling of hope. Next is Lake Hylia. While twilight has a grip on it, most of the
lake is completely drained due to a disrupted flow of water - the culprit being a frozen
over Zora’s Domain. So you climb up to the top and fight off some
Shadow Beasts, at this point having mastered the flow of gameplay with Wolf Link. As soon as you use the sense ability here
- this happens. Yeah. The first time I played this game, I had no
idea if the Zoras were dead or alive, which made it all the more creepy to witness. After restoring Lake Hylia to its former glory,
I felt it was one of the most gorgeous locations in the game, and you can actually play a minigame
for rupees, a Heart Piece, and a fantastic aerial view of the whole lake. It’s super tranquil and well worth the effort
in the end. Bringing peace to ravaged areas of Hyrule
feels like enough of a reward in the grand scheme of things, which is a sentiment that
I feel Twilight Princess always set out to evoke. Our protagonist’s core ideals are built
on selflessness, after all. As long as I was able to bring light to a
world cloaked in darkness, I was fine with whatever I had to do. And that’s what this portion of the game
did. Despite being linear experiences, they conveyed
so much and immersed me in why I was on this journey. This continues further into the game with
the Gerudo Desert, Snowpeak and the Hidden Village among other areas that all benefit
from being linear experiences. Gerudo Desert is completely devoid of friendly
faces, being a barren wasteland with the exception of a few suspicious landforms, items, and
an enemy outpost crowding your next dungeon. But I suppose loneliness is appropriate. In Ocarina of Time, you were the only dude
in the entire valley and the Gerudo weren’t about to let you in. It was a different kind of loneliness. THIS desert has no civilization whatsoever,
and the music is far more sinister. With that said, I always felt it perfectly
accompanied the feeling of infiltrating that outpost. You take out all the snipers and stealthily
kill all the remaining Bulblins without being noticed, until you beat the king and finally
make your way inside the Arbiter’s Grounds. I’d always walk away with a feeling of immense
satisfaction because they’d crafted an excellent little excursion leading up to the dungeon. You can even find a Piece of Heart in the
outpost. Then there’s the Hidden Village, which is
this incredibly memorable sequence in which you walk into this deserted town Clint Eastwood
style and take out all of the Bulblins that have forced the only remaining villager inside. An awesome sequence in the same vein as the
Gerudo Desert, but after you become intimately familiar with the area by killing all the
monsters, you can come back as Wolf Link and play hide-and-seek with the village cats for
a Piece of Heart. Both are very segmented areas meant for progression
in the main game, but have great reason to be designed the way they are. The same can also be said for Snowpeak…
but I’ll save it for later. Now, let’s talk about the way Twilight Princess’
structure compliments the focus on linearity. Usually, when I want to break something like
this down - I tend to cite a Zelda game’s use of Heart Pieces and Containers as a prime
indicator of how they wanted players to experience things. For instance - Majora’s Mask’s dungeons
were intentionally brutal so that they could encourage players to help people across Termina. Wind Waker scattered heart pieces and upgrades
across The Great Sea as a means of encouraging people to eventually master the game world,
take on the game’s toughest challenges, collect the Triforce pieces and track down
that Ghost Ship. Since Twilight Princess doesn’t want to
distract from its linear focus, heart pieces are deliberately placed along your main path,
as well as inside of dungeons. Due to how the game is structured, you’ll
be riding through each region of Hyrule more than once, and the potential to find goodies
is usually noticeable. A spot to use your clawshot as you cross a
bridge, various statues that can be controlled with your dominion rod later on, tracks for
your spinner to latch onto, a bombable wall or boulder - you get the idea. I’d even count the guy asking for donations
at the entrance to Castle Town, because you ALWAYS pass by him if you enter from the warp
point on your map, AND he’s wearing some pretty bright colours. So you will pass by almost every possible
Heart Piece at least once, and the key to obtaining them comes from knowledge of your
items or the world around you, which are both significantly fleshed out due to the way this
game handles progression. Everything you come across in the main quest
has an optional application, whether that means an item, a person, or something else. Remember showing off your items to Talo? You can demonstrate your skills in archery
to him for a Piece of Heart. Using the Iron Boots in Goron Mines? Moving blocks on ice in Snowpeak Ruins? Fetching items with your Gale Boomerang? Even obscure Heart Pieces like the ones hiding
away in Hena’s Fishing Hole or a Shadow Kargarok minigame still count. The Fishing Hole is mentioned frequently and
you’ll no doubt pass by it when collecting Tears of Light, and in traditional Zelda fashion
- they wouldn’t introduce a new game mechanic without following up on it, as is the case
with that minigame, the snowboarding minigame, and the miscellaneous caves and spots around
Hyrule that require utilization of concepts established in dungeons. Even goat herding makes a return for a Piece
of Heart. That’s another reason the Tears of Light
quests actually matter - they are intimate introductions to three of the most frequently
visited regions in Hyrule. The tears are intentionally placed so that
you can memorize the layout of these areas, and the howling stones that lead to new sword
techniques give further purpose to memorization. Without the Tears of Light, I don’t think
I would have noticed the hot spring at the base of Death Mountain for a free health refill,
or the ways in which I could climb on top of Kakariko Village, or the caves and secrets
I took note of in Lake Hylia. I’ve heard this game be compared unfavourably
to Ocarina of Time over the years, and it’s not a far stretch of the imagination to see
why. But I also believe it doesn’t give this
game’s vision enough credit. Believe it or not - all of this stuff I’ve
discussed about the overworld actually differentiates Twilight Princess from Ocarina of Time quite
a bit. Ocarina of Time didn’t have Heart Pieces
in its dungeons, instead opting to place them in creative ways around the overworld. Some of them needed items from the main quest,
yes, but most of them were placed in ways that required you to think far outside of
the box. Jumping behind the only waterfall in Gerudo
Valley and bashing open a box nearby, playing Saria’s Song for Skull Kid and reciting
all of your songs for the river frogs in Lake Hylia (including the optional ones), throwing
a bomb into the spinning urn in Goron City after lighting all the torches, and the various
Magic Bean spots and obscure locations across Hyrule. Even when you have to use items, they usually
have unique applications that you wouldn’t expect like cheating a Treasure Chest minigame
with the Lens of Truth or sinking to the bottom of the Zora’s Fountain with the Iron Boots. Not to mention, there’s the Heart Piece
you get for collecting 50 Gold Skulltula tokens… and the Biggoron Sword. There’s a lot of stuff in Ocarina of Time
that makes it seem more imaginative and engaging than Twilight Princess, but remember - each
Zelda game offers something completely different, and I love them all for very different reasons. It's not about which game is best, it's about
what they offer. And the layout of Hyrule this time around
makes Twilight Princess one of the most accessible and streamlined Zelda games. Precisely because of the linear and easily
noticeable placement of Heart Pieces, and the decision to implement them in dungeons
- new players will know where these things can be found, and figure out what they need
to do to acquire them without straying too far from the game’s linear pacing. It is deliberate, and I believe it works in
this game’s favour. But where I think Twilight Princess thrives
- no matter your stance on the overworld - is in its dungeon design. These dungeons are where they aim to foster
the player’s game sense the most, and they fit right in with the game’s structure and
linear progression of ideas. This is also due in part to the decision to
implement two Heart Pieces per dungeon, which gives the designers more opportunities to
flesh out an item’s utility in creative ways. Take for example this Heart Piece in the Forest
Temple, there’s a suspicious chest sitting behind the stairs you need to use to grab
a small key. This is where it becomes apparent that you
can PUT OUT lanterns after they’ve been lit with the Gale Boomerang, a concept that
seems simple in practice but is effectively taught in this instance. You’ll see some more examples of Heart Pieces
in dungeons as we go along. Let’s talk about the dungeons themselves. I’ve already discussed the Goron Mines,
which is pretty much the only dungeon in this game that I don’t like. Let’s start with the Forest Temple. As far as first dungeons go, it’s pretty
good. You may get the impression that the dungeon
is linear thanks to the monkeys guiding you, but after you acquire the Gale Boomerang,
you’ll need to use it in order to find the rest of the monkeys across the dungeon, nab
the Big Key and finally bring them all back to the final room to cross the pit. The Gale Boomerang is like the ordinary boomerang,
but its strong gusts can carry items, put out flames and even knock some enemies over. Seems simple, but the dungeon is full of fun
ways to use it like creating bridges to adjacent areas. The Gale Boomerang goes on to be a popular
choice when fetching Heart Pieces in the overworld, as does the Clawshot, which appears in our
next dungeon - the Lakebed Temple. This place is like the Water Temple if it
didn’t try to fry your short-term memory. It’s still one of the most confusing dungeons
in the game, but it is an incredible evolution on what the Water Temple aimed to achieve. The dungeon has six floors and two wings,
with the third and fourth floors being symmetrical on each wing. At the top of both wings are levers that when
pulled will cause a giant waterfall to cascade down and into the central hub that connects
each room in the dungeon. By directing the flow of water to either wing,
you can affect the rooms of the dungeon in various ways. There’s a Heart Piece you can obtain with
the clawshot by first having water fill the room so that a bridge can rise and you can
walk over there. Then you stand on a switch and zip over to
the chest. Now, that’s a LOT to consider, but the dungeons
eases you into things linearly first. In order to obtain the Clawshot, you have
to turn the water on in the east wing. There’s only one correct way to go, and
as you follow the water you’ll get a sampling of how the water affects the dungeon’s moving
parts. So you hop across some moving gears, nab the
clawshot and head to the west wing after changing the direction of the stairs. The west wing is where they test you on the
Clawshot’s utility and your own ability to navigate an underwater maze. Once you’ve mastered the west wing, you
grab the Big Key and redirect the flow of water back into the central pool, where you
can finally access the boss. Seems simple enough, until you realize how
difficult actually navigating this whole temple is with just the clawshot and your wits. Thanks to the relatively symmetrical layout
of the dungeon and more digestible core concept, the dungeon doesn’t have to be an exhaustive
exercise in memorization - problem solving can take center stage. On top of all of this, the dungeon is really
creepy to walk around in. The music is chilling, to put it lightly. The Arbiter’s Grounds has you collecting
four poe souls so that you can nab the spinner, find the big key and fight the boss. Alongside some layered puzzle solving that
takes place across different floors and some freedom of choice in how you approach the
dungeon at first, the spinner is AWESOME. Its utility is rather limited, but when the
designers create challenges for it - it’s ALWAYS a good time. Take a look at this room. This room is heaven for the item in question. It’s all contingent on timing and reflexes,
and you can take a slight detour to a more challenging path with a Piece of Heart. And in order to realize the item’s furthest
potential, they have you Beyblade and dodge your way to victory. If that weren’t enough, the atmosphere of
this dungeon is immaculate. Once again, we get to listen to some rather
unsettling musical accompaniment, which becomes even more disturbing as you fight wave after
wave of the undead in each room. Considering the desert has no living Gerudo
to its name, it’s not a terribly far stretch of the imagination to say that these might
be the remains of the Gerudo buried beneath the sand. We don’t know what fate befell them; all
we know is that they are unable to rest, and they are out for blood. The Temple of Time is an example of a linear
dungeon done right. It is a straight line to the Dominion Rod
with each room being a new challenge. Once you get there, you fight the Darknut
and claim the item. The Dominion Rod lets you control this statue,
and if you recall - it looks identical to the one at the dungeon’s entrance. So this means going back through the same
dungeon with a new toy to play with. You have to accommodate for this thing as
you solve the same puzzles in new ways, and you can use it to find Heart Pieces as well
if you're paying attention. You want to see how linearity can benefit
a Zelda game? The Temple of Time in Twilight Princess is
a fantastic example. Also deliberately linear is the Palace of
Twilight. You need to enter two corridors and come back
out with a Sol - a source of life and energy for the Twili. On your first time through each corridor,
the light you’ve brought with you into the Twilight Realm can power certain objects,
but the dark fog will still turn you into a wolf. Once you have the Sol, you can dissipate the
fog, but a wallmaster will be following you as you try to navigate back through the same
corridor. Like the Temple of Time, you’re solving
the same puzzles with a new variable, but now there’s a dramatic sense of urgency
in trying to carry the Sol back to the entrance. It’s a really intense dungeon, especially
if you’re looking for the last two Heart Pieces while being hunted down. Once both Sols have been delivered, your sword
will be able to cut through the dark fog, and it’s pretty much a straight line to
the end from there through puzzles and enemies. So what we have here is a diverse set of dungeons
with varied concepts, layouts, atmosphere and pacing, and the Heart Pieces just make
them even more fun to explore and solve. But there is a dungeon that I love more than
any other in this game, and it is a strong contender for my favourite dungeon in a Zelda
game - period. The City in the Sky. This is a woodcut print by M.C. Escher called “Another World,” printed
in 1947. Just from taking a glance at it, it’s hard
to tell which direction you’re looking into this piece from, isn’t it? The floor? A window? The ceiling? Who knows? The bird creatures that seemingly defy gravity
appear well-adjusted to this place, as if to imply that if you were to step into this
world, you’d fall forever into an unfamiliar sky. That’s the central idea that the City in
the Sky revolves around. When solving puzzles with the double clawshots,
the threat of falling into the sky doesn’t just promise the loss of a heart. It also threatens to reset your progress in
navigating an abstract and confusing layout of walls, fences, ceilings, and structures
that you’ve never seen before. In layout, it’s always perplexing and consistently
varied. You’re always trying to find the next piece
of the dungeon to latch onto without falling down and having to start over. There’s something at stake with every launch
of your clawshot. This, combined with the astounding and often
euphoric art and sound design of this dungeon, make it one of the most incredible experiences
I’ve ever had with a Zelda game. The music elevates it to this mysterious yet
enthralling level thanks to its synths and spiraling noises that I always felt symbolized
the Oocca, creatures that were also lifted from the Esher print. Who knew that something so ugly could belong
to a place so beautiful? The City in the Sky’s setting was so good
that it ended up directly inspiring the setting of the next 3D Zelda game in full. Because this game wants you to focus primarily
on the main quest, the team had a great responsibility on their shoulders to make the dungeons excellent. So they did. They’re challenging, they all have identity
in design and appearance, and they’re rich with atmosphere. I don’t necessarily think you need to enjoy
the rest of the game to appreciate the dungeons, and that’s a hell of an achievement. But at the same time - they establish and
apply item functionality so well that it becomes second nature when thinking about how to apply
them in the overworld, and I think that’s a great quality for a Zelda game to have. Thanks to the streamlined and linear nature
of this game - with the main quest, overworld and dungeons taking center stage and carrying
the game’s pacing and exploration through to the end - the side quests they’ve included
don’t interfere with the game’s pace in the slightest, instead feeling like self-contained
excursions that you can seek out if you so desire. Rupees are not usually required for the main
quest, unless you want to buy potions or ammo refills to prepare for the more difficult
battles. Otherwise, you can use them to repair a bridge,
escort a barrel of Hot Springwater to Gor Liggs’ son in one of the hardest Heart Pieces
to obtain in the game, and finally donate a few more rupees for Malo to set up shop
in Castle Town, wherein you can buy the Magic Armour. This is pretty much the only Heart Piece in
the game that you need to go out of your way to find, and for that reason - it’s also
the most challenging in practice. All of this requires a considerable amount
of planning, and if you do enough digging around Castle Town - you can find a quest
that allows you to expand your wallet by collecting bugs around Hyrule. The fishing hole, the STAR tent, even the
Ordon Ranch…all of this side content I’ve mentioned feels quarantined from the rest
of the game, and despite that - they put a great amount of effort into making these areas
feel memorable and detailed. Agitha’s creepy bug hotel compliments her…odd
nature, the fishing hole is one of the most serene places to be in the game, and Malo
Mart…well, yeah. But then there’s the Cave of Ordeals. Unlike Wind Waker, this massive enemy gauntlet
isn’t required in order to finish the game. If you manage to complete it, you’ll get
a bottle of the Great Fairy’s Tears, which refills your health completely and doubles
your strength. The catch is…you can also get this wonderful
item by scouting for 20 of the 60 Poe Souls across Twilight Princess, which can also be
found in dungeons and along the main path. The lack of purpose for a gauntlet this tough,
as well as the lack of importance in pursuing side content should have driven me away from
this game in a heartbeat, as an avid fan of Majora’s Mask and Wind Waker. …I ended up not caring at all. The Cave of Ordeals was fun, and that’s
what matters to me. Let’s talk about combat for a second. It should be noted that Twilight Princess
de-emphasizes item-centric combat, instead opting for mastery of your sword. This is what the majority of combat in Twilight
Princess focuses on, aside from the odd enemy that requires an item to kill. You can apply the techniques you’ve picked
up from howling stones to outsmart your enemies and finish them off more efficiently. It’s like an entirely separate kit to consider
in combat alongside your items, and prioritizing your knowledge of the sword can be a difference-maker
in battles with enemies that lean heavily on defense and evasiveness. It still takes a lot of skill and thought
to use these techniques wisely, and I’ll give you a fun example. The Mortal Draw can instantly kill most enemies,
but you have to time it just right. When you pull it off, it is emphatically satisfying. However, due to the sheer volume of enemies
on each floor and the deliberately brutal combinations they appear in, the Cave of Ordeals
was one of the few times where I had to tell myself that swordplay alone just wouldn’t
be enough. I got creative with my items, I put distance
between me and my enemies with bombs, I swung the ball and chain around to defend myself
in large groups, and I actually managed to find a use for the stupid rupee armour as
I was about to die. I even turned into a wolf on occasion to get
the upper hand in power and agility. This is a completely optional area that you
don’t have to touch at ALL, and yet it provided me with some of the most fun I’ve had with
this game’s combat and thoroughly prepared me for the final dungeon. At this point, I had all 20 heart containers
and it was my last stop. Once I had finished the Cave of Ordeals, I
reflected on a few things as I had seen pretty much everything the game had to offer. Twilight Princess is essentially the antithesis
to Wind Waker in every way. Instead of having an open-ended world driven
by discovery, it features a linear sense of progression with secrets that you are meant
to eventually find and solve, and if not - it’s not a big deal, because there are two heart
pieces in every dungeon. Instead of the game encouraging you to find
creative uses for all of the items in your arsenal like freezing enemies with the ice
arrows and then smashing them with a hammer, the game wants you to cut them all down with
the sword alone. Instead of the side content being a valuable
part of the experience, it is all relatively segmented and unimportant to progression,
as are some of the areas you visit for the main quest. All of these things are not what I look for
in Zelda, and yet…I had such a good time with Twilight Princess. I enjoyed the fact that its major upgrades
like Heart Pieces and Howling Stones were so well conveyed along my main path. I enjoyed how its linearity accustomed me
to the world. I enjoy that the side content is so memorable,
as it feels like a reward for seeking it out in a decidedly linear game. In summary: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight
Princess is linear by choice, and it does a phenomenal job of taking you from point
A to point B in the most exciting ways possible. Its atmosphere and gameplay both flourish
as a result of this decision, and if this game were designed in any other way, it would
not be the game that I have come to love. I understand if you don’t enjoy Twilight
Princess, and if none of what I said in this video thus far resonated with you. It may not be what you look for in Zelda. But precisely what you may dislike about Twilight
Princess is exactly what I - and many others - love about it. And that’s okay. As I’ve said in a previous video - different
isn’t synonymous with worse. As one final example of everything I’ve
talked about up to this point, I want to discuss a part of the game that conveys everything
Twilight Princess stands for. Its atmosphere compels you to move forward. It features a new gameplay mechanic that is
fleshed out in unique and especially memorable contexts. Its dungeon is original, the setting is unforgettable,
and most importantly - it tells a beautiful story. This…is Snowpeak. When you first arrive, you’ll need to follow
the scent of a reekfish through a powerful blizzard. There’s no telling what you might encounter,
as your only lead is the fact that a beast stole a reekfish from Zora’s Domain. As I navigated my way through the blizzard
and fought off some enemies, I eventually got to a point on the mountain in which I
could see again. It is here where I realized just how lonely
Snowpeak is. Something about the harsh winds and the somber
take on Twilight Princess’ lead melody, combined with the visuals of a desolate mountain
really clicked with me. Even lonelier, however, is the yeti at the
top of the mountain. His name is Yeto, and as you’ll soon learn
- he is no beast. He senses that we are looking for a Mirror
Shard, and leads us down to his house via an awesome snowboarding sequence. While Yeto resides in a mansion, it is a very
lonely mansion sitting on a platform on the other side of Snowpeak. But as you enter his mansion, you’ll learn
that he is not alone here. As it turns out, he went to find a reekfish
for a soup he is making for his sick wife. His wife, Yeta, will attempt to direct you
to where the bedroom key is so that you can take the Mirror Shard, but her memory is a
bit hazy, and instead you collect ingredients for Yeto’s soup. The cool thing about these ingredients is
that as Yeta keeps accidentally directing you to them throughout the dungeon, you can
actually drink a sample of Yeto’s soup as he is making it, with each new ingredient
adding to the amount of hearts it restores. The mansion is about as linear some of the
other dungeons I’ve discussed in this video, but like the Tears of Light collecting, the
first half of the Temple of Time, and your first runs through the corridors in the Palace
of Twilight - your exploration of the dungeon’s various rooms for the ingredients gives you
time to familiarize yourself with the layout, and take note of things that feel off. Linearity with purpose. And trust me, you’re gonna need that experience. After you outsmart the Darkhammer mini-boss,
you’ll acquire the Ball and Chain. This is where the dungeon opens up to you,
as Yeta marks the CORRECT spot on your map and all that’s left to do is figure out
how to get there. You’re pretty much on your own in figuring
out the applications of this new item, but its raw strength should give you an idea of
what it’s capable of. The layout from here is relatively open-ended
and puzzling. You’ll need to transfer cannonballs from
one room to another to take out obstacles, as well as use the Ball and Chain to create
a path for yourself in more ways than one. What I love about this part of the dungeon
is how well it demonstrates what the structure of Twilight Princess can do for the player’s
problem-solving skills. It takes the player in a set direction, and
while the player is moving in that direction, it gradually introduces and builds on new
concepts, all the while allowing them to memorize the place they’re exploring. Once enough work has been done in teaching
them about their surroundings, they just let the player go wild in solving the remaining
problems when they are at their hardest. They know how to navigate around this place
and all the tools are at their disposal - all that’s left is to test them on their knowledge
until they’ve mastered it. Once they’ve mastered it, they want more. So you test them one more time in the overworld
with a cave that they now have a key for, and reward them with a Piece of Heart. It’s a brilliant, subconscious development
that happens while playing. You don’t think about it, but you do feel
it. And that’s why I love Twilight Princess
the way it is. After finally obtaining the bedroom key, Yeta
escorts you to the mirror. She is utterly mesmerized by it, eventually
turning into a monster to prevent you from taking it. The boss is great and all, but it’s what
happens after that always stuck with me. Yeto barges into the room to see if Yeta is
okay. Yeta informs him of the mirror being taken
by Link, to which Yeto replies: These two are truly the greatest couple in
Zelda… second to Anju and Kafei. Afterwards, you can meet the two of them at
the top of Snowpeak and race them down the hill for a Piece of Heart. It’s just nice to see these two having fun
together, and with that - Snowpeak feels a little less lonely. Snowpeak encompasses everything that Twilight
Princess is to me. It thrives because it is linear in pretty
much every way. But it also sheds light on something I haven’t
really talked about yet. By far, the most important influence linearity
has on Twilight Princess is how it tells its story. Wind Waker conveyed a message about finding
your courage by discovering the world for yourself, and it did so through the open waves
of the Great Sea. Majora’s Mask had you helping people so
that you could prepare for the main quest, and helping people tied back to its thesis
of being selfless before your time is up. Their gameplay mattered to the stories they
were trying to tell, and this is true for Twilight Princess as well, with Snowpeak being
concrete proof. But it goes beyond just a single area. Since Twilight Princess uses linearity with
responsibility, it’s fitting that it also aims to tell a story about the various facets
of responsibility, and it does so to great effect. Like Wind Waker, Twilight Princess exists
in the shadow of Ocarina of Time. Its influence can be felt throughout, despite
the strides it makes in establishing an identity for itself. The irony is…Ocarina of Time never actually
took place in this game’s canon. After the Hero of Time is sent back to live
the missing years of his childhood, he informs Zelda of what eventually happens after Ganondorf
rises to power. It is implied from this cutscene that he prevents
that from happening, and from there - the events of Majora’s Mask pick up. The Hero of Time lived out the rest of his
life without anyone really knowing who he was or what he had accomplished, as his accomplishments
took place in a time period that he prevented from happening. Twilight Princess represents this in many
ways. You’ve no doubt seen some of the areas that
were meant to seem familiar to those that played Ocarina of Time. But because that game was nothing but a bad
dream to the world of Twilight Princess, these areas seem very somber and lonely, as they
were destined to be forgotten by everyone except you. The Forest Temple of this game takes place
inside of a tree, and due to the appearance of the doors and enemies, it is heavily implied
to be the decomposed corpse of the Great Deku Tree. Then there’s a saddening reference in the
music that accompanies Hyrule Field at night. It’s a relatively subdued track until suddenly…you
hear Malon singing. That voice is unmistakably hers; I don’t
think I could ever forget what she sounds like. There are many more references to Ocarina
of Time throughout - like the Lakebed Temple resembling the Water Temple - but I want to
focus on a specific example that serves a purpose in the message Twilight Princess is
trying to convey. This is the Sacred Grove, where the Lost Woods
reside. This is perhaps the most soothing rendition
of the Lost Woods in a Zelda game, especially if you pair it with the ambience of the forest. This is appropriate, as the Lost Woods and
the music that echoes throughout are treated as nostalgic and calming in Ocarina of Time. The past is being preserved here. A descendant of Skull Kid (or perhaps Skull
Kid himself) will lead you by playing Saria’s Song on his horn, in the same manner as Saria
herself. He’ll play tricks on you, and sometimes
you’ll need to fight off his puppets, but he just seems happy to be able to play with
someone again. The implications of Link being able to make
it through are intriguing. He shouldn’t have any memory of this place…but
WE do. The memories that drive him aren’t his and
shouldn’t exist in the first place, and yet - that’s exactly why this place is so
familiar. As it turns out, it was a test to see if you
were truly the hero worthy of wielding the blade of evil’s bane. Whatever this place was, it only belonged
to someone that carried the hero’s blood. Later, you revisit the Sacred Grove to look
for a mirror shard in the past version of the Temple of Time. Now, the Temple of Time, as it stands in the
present day, is in ruins. As we’ve seen, the only walls that protect
the Master Sword anymore are the walls of the forest, a la Link to the Past. However, as it turns out - the wielder of
the Master Sword is the only person that can visit the Temple of Time in its original form,
a deliberate decision that the guardians of the Sacred Grove made in order to prevent
anyone else from abusing its power. I have no idea how Zant managed to place a
mirror shard there in the first place, but that’s not really the point. The point is - although Link may just feel
like he is doing what he feels is right, he is the only person responsible enough to wield
such power - a trait that the Hero of Time notices from beyond the grave. Remember those howling stones that lead to
new combat abilities? Well, the songs that you howl are from Ocarina
of Time and Majora’s Mask. I remember getting chills throughout my body
when I heard the Song of Healing echo throughout Death Mountain. These are all songs that belong to the Hero
of Time’s journeys, and you are the only person that has the honour of facing him in
battle. But the first time you meet him - he immediately
knocks you down, only to say this: “A sword wields no strength unless the hand
that holds it has courage.” This is a quote that the entire game revolves
around. It has been a common theme throughout the
countless battles of good versus evil in Zelda, but in this game, it’s incredibly appropriate. As the saying goes - with great power comes
great responsibility. Plenty of people wield power carelessly and
selfishly, ignorant to their responsibilities and betraying the trust of those that depend
on them. In a position of power, you need to have the
courage to make difficult decisions for the good of those that need you. These qualities are conveyed through one of
Zelda’s greatest characters. Midna. At the 10th annual DICE Awards, Twilight Princess
received the award for Outstanding Achievement in Story and Character Development. Zelda games usually receive plenty of honours,
but Twilight Princess’ sole award amidst its many nominations felt deliberate, and
I think I can solely attribute that win to her. Midna serves as this game’s partner character,
existing in the same vein as Navi or the King of Red Lions. While Navi stuck by the Hero of Time as he
matured, she didn’t exactly have much in the way of development or active involvement
in the game’s narrative. The King of Red Lions, however, gave us a
glimpse into how players could become attached to their partner characters in Zelda. While he may not have demonstrated much personality
throughout your adventure, his buildup and presence for the game’s finale made the
message of Wind Waker hit home. The next logical step would be to create a
character that was inseparable from the game in question. And Midna’s compelling redemption arc allows
every thematic piece of Twilight Princess to fall into place. We are first introduced to Midna in the dungeon
of Hyrule Castle, after the Ordonian kids are kidnapped and Link turns into a wolf beyond
the barriers of the twilight. She frees Link from his shackles, but only
agrees to help him if he does exactly what she says. Immediately, I began to appreciate the way
the artists designed her, and how she functions in-game. It’s worth noting that Midna’s look went
through countless revisions before the team settled on her final design, with pretty much
EVERY single design looking different from the last. One of the first things that caught my attention
is how Midna’s hair is used in-game. She can latch onto things and attack enemies
with it, often taking the form of a giant fist. It’s a neat visual detail and can often
give the player contextual clues as you explore the game. Speaking of looks, Midna is arguably the most
expressive character in the game, which is especially important as her range of emotions
throughout the story HAD to be conveyed with detail. The team no doubt took lessons from the work
they did on Wind Waker with its expressive characters, and applied them to a more realistic
looking Zelda game in some pretty cool ways. Along with Midna, Wolf Link’s expressions
are phenomenal. You can SEE Link’s human emotions bleed
through his new form as he takes issue with Midna’s dominance over his actions. Midna is someone that Link has to deal with
for most of the game’s first hours, which - if you recall - doesn't always hold Twilight
Princess’ most memorable moments. It would be easy to accidentally give players
the wrong first impression of Midna due to the circumstances that plague this game’s
introduction, as you have to go with her and pursue her leads on the whereabouts of the
Ordonian children in spite of who she is. She’s selfish, abrasive and deliberately
annoying sometimes, and at one point she flaunts the kidnapping of those closest to Link in
his face. And yet…yeah, you probably know what I’m
going to say by now. I didn’t mind her in the slightest. For one, her attitude is immediately refreshing
in comparison to previous Zelda partners. They had little personality throughout those
adventures, and go along with whatever is destined to happen. Midna is nothing like those characters. She only really cares about recovering the
Fused Shadow and restoring her own world of twilight, showing little regard for Hyrule
at all. It isn’t until we learn why that we begin
to understand the way she acts. The other thing is…it’s just really entertaining
to see her complacency toward Hyrule shine through. During such a…rough part of the game, it’s
only natural that if you don’t enjoy hunting for Tears of Light, your resentment toward
Hyrule would start to show. Midna’s attitude actually ends up complimenting
that, which is something that I really appreciated. In spite of her demeanor, Midna’s unwelcome
attitude directly compliments the atmosphere of the twilight, and it eventually shifts
as she witnesses the lengths you go to in order to save Hyrule…and your friends. Shortly after trying to climb Death Mountain
and learning how to sumo wrestle with Mayor Bo, you’ll arrive back at Kakariko Village. Just before you arrive, however, something
troubling happens. King Bulblin and his squad arrive to kidnap
the Ordonians once more. In the past, Colin believed that Link would
always come and save them, but this time - it would’ve been too late. Colin always had the most heart of the village
kids, and despite doing the right thing in telling his father, Rusl, about Talo’s kidnapping,
Talo and the others still resent him for it. His willingness to take responsibility and
stand by his decision took a great deal of courage, no doubt inspired by Link’s deeds. In this moment, Colin rises to the occasion
and shoves Beth out of the way before being knocked out and held hostage. As Link, it is now your responsibility to
save Colin from King Bulblin’s grasp, a task that Link passionately accepts. What follows is one of my favourite sequences
in Twilight Princess, and it happens just before you enter the second dungeon, proving
once again that the thematic merits of Twilight Princess often compliment its deliberate linearity. It features horseback combat at its finest,
a new and welcome addition to the game. Miyamoto previously wanted to implement it
in Ocarina of Time, but couldn’t for one reason or another. It is convenient for cutting down the Bulblins
that insist on riding up close to you and impeding your exploration, but it works tremendously
well in segmented sequences like this one. Against the backdrop of a twilight barrier,
you ride. It is one of the most memorable combat sequences
in Twilight Princess, and the area in which the fight takes place happens to be an area
that I have an emotional attachment to. It’s the region that Link rides through
in the title screen, it’s the region in which I heard Malon’s voice for the first
time, and it’s the region in which the final battle takes place. But let’s not jump too far ahead. The way the twilight barrier illuminates this
place at night is mesmerizing, and it presents the kind of atmosphere that I remember Twilight
Princess for. You wrap things up with a jousting match on
the bridge, after which Link raises his sword in proclamation of victory. Colin confides in Link about his revelation
about strength, before passing out. I always loved the way Talo tries to return
the favour by attempting to carry him to the house. This is but one of many ways Link takes responsibility
for the people around him, and in turn inspires them. But Colin is my favourite example thanks to
him finally following his heart and demonstrating his courage. But there’s more. A little while later, the late Queen Rutela
projects herself to you from the graveyard in Kakariko. She tells you about her son, Prince Ralis,
who has fallen ill after being attacked by the forces of the Twilight Realm. After he recovers and hears about his mother’s
passing, he loses confidence in his ability to rule the Zoras. Thanks to Link’s endless displays of selfless
responsibility and courage, he eventually makes peace with his mother’s fate and steps
up to the plate. There’s also the resistance fighters that
gather in Telma’s Bar, who take responsibility for the state of the world when hope has all
but run out. Speaking of which, one of the members of that
team… is Rusl. Although his identity is meant to be somewhat
of a mystery throughout most of the game, a member of the resistance offhandedly mentions
who he is under that helmet. If you recall, he was unable to come to Talo’s
aid in the beginning of the game, and he was also unable to find Colin after he and the
rest of the kids were kidnapped. No doubt feeling embarrassed after failing
those close to him, and inspired by Link’s actions - he does what he can for the rest
of the world. When you finally reunite with him in Faron
Woods much later, the game doesn’t treat it as this incredible reveal…it’s just
an ordinary heart-to-heart, much like the conversation he has with Link at the beginning
of the game, and he repays him with a way into the Sacred Grove. As all of this is happening, Midna is slowly
but surely taking notice of who Link truly is, and his deeds begin to have an effect
on her outlook. When she sees the Zoras frozen beneath the
ice, she knows that the right thing to do would be to find a way to help them. It’s rare for her to seem emotionally affected
by things she has no reason to care about, which is why this moment always stuck out
to me as a turning point in how she treats Hyrule. She even apologizes to Link for using him
after the Fused Shadow is completed. It isn’t until after Link and Midna leave
the Lakebed Temple that everything takes a turn for the worse. Zant curses Link to live as a Wolf in the
world of light, with Midna being forced into it after Zant controls a Light Spirit like
a puppet, leaving her on death’s door as he spits the both of them back out into Hyrule. With nowhere to turn and in spite of the control
Midna exhibited over him for the longest time, Link must do what he does best - help. This gorgeous, yet crushingly dower take on
the main theme is one of my favourite pieces in a Zelda game, accompanying a moment from
Twilight Princess that has stuck with me since childhood. The only thing on my mind throughout this
entire sequence was: Get to Zelda. Any reservations I had about Midna no longer
mattered. I wasn’t about to let her die. This sequence serves as one of the most poignant
examples of Link’s nature in the game, and it allows players to embody him and take on
his responsibility as they carry Midna to the only person that can save her. Before we go any further, I want to rewind
a little bit back to your first outing under Midna’s command. Midna wants you to retrieve a sword and shield
before continuing, so you have to make the difficult decision to break into the homes
of those that trust you, scaring them in the process. This moment always stung, but it sheds some
light on something that comes with the territory of being responsible. Making difficult decisions for the greater
good. This is something that Princess Zelda had
to do for the survival of her people. Faced with insurmountable evil and an ominous
ultimatum, Zelda surrendered her kingdom to Zant. Despite Midna’s comments on her upbringing
and a life of luxury in a position of power, Zelda is willing to make those difficult decisions…which
is something that Midna eventually learns to do. Upon arriving in Zelda’s quarters, Link
is told to head to the Sacred Grove to break the curse that binds him. Midna, conceding that she is at the end of
her life, asks Zelda to tell Link where to find the Mirror of Twilight. All this time, I figured I was carrying her
to Zelda in order to save HER life, but in truth, she just wanted to make sure I could
still save the world. Moved by Midna’s selflessness in spite of
her impending doom, Zelda sacrifices herself to save Midna. Midna becomes warmer and kinder towards Link,
no doubt affected by the lengths both he and Zelda went to in order to protect the people
they care about. This shift makes her the best partner character
a Zelda game has ever had, with her brash nature making for fun commentary on the situations
the both of you find yourself in for the rest of the game, rather than it being at your
expense. I had no qualms with calling her a friend. But who is Midna truly, and where does her
character development go from here? Well, she is actually the titular Twilight
Princess. Her tenure as princess ended prematurely when
Zant usurped the throne and turned her into an imp. For the longest time, her goal in order to
beat Zant was to reclaim the Fused Shadow. Obviously, that plan fell through, and it’s
a good thing it did. Here’s why: Just before entering the Lakebed Temple, the
game treats us to a rather disturbing cutscene about the creation of the Sacred Realm, which
eventually became the Twilight Realm due to intervention by the Light Spirits. It demonstrates the dangerous effects that
the quest for power can have on ordinary people using Link and Ilia as actors. The Fused Shadow is made up of the magic that
once threw the Sacred Realm into chaos, and the Light Spirit leaves Link with these words: If Midna were to follow in Zant’s footsteps
and fight fire with fire, the influence of wielding such power could corrupt her intentions. Hell, it could corrupt anyone’s intentions. And that is part of the message this game
is trying to convey, and it’s something that Midna learned with Zelda’s sacrifice. Midna’s people may have been banished to
the Twilight Realm long ago, but she entirely drops her resentment for Zelda and Hyrule
after realizing the true intentions behind Zelda’s actions were pure. In a position of power, Zelda would do ANYTHING
for her people, just as Link is willing to do the same for his village wielding the Triforce
of Courage. After all…a sword wields no strength unless
the hand that holds it has courage. I believe this is the unspoken revelation
that causes Midna to take responsibility for both Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, all based
on material the game presents. I had a moment in this game where everything
clicked. It was late in the game, as I was just riding
to one of the owl statues in order to unlock the City in the Sky. But at this point in the story, I had realized
what it meant to wield power responsibly. As I witnessed the various selfless actions
of this game’s protagonists, as I saw the dangers of power firsthand, and as I realized
how responsibility affected every minute detail of this game - the impact of Hyrule Field’s
music finally started to reach me. The main theme that is used throughout this
piece can be heard in many different contexts. Chasing after King Bulblin, rushing a dying
Midna to Princess Zelda, or fueling determination in Gerudo Desert as you hunt for the Mirror
of Twilight - it’s always there and it’s always inspiring, in the same way Link inspires
others to be better. But then came something that caught me completely
off guard. During Colin’s revelation, a piece of music
plays simply called “Courage.” It’s a simple flute piece that leads into
the main theme of Twilight Princess, but it is a bit of a tearjerker during the cutscene. So imagine my surprise when I hear that same
melody as I’m simply riding around Hyrule. To me, it is a reminder of why I continue
to fight - the source of my power. As Twilight Princess teaches us, power is
dangerous when wielded by those without pure intentions, but it can also corrupt anyone’s
intentions. Sometimes, it may be best that no one crosses
paths with it. By the end of the game, THIS is Midna’s
philosophy. Let’s find out how she came to that conclusion. In the leadup to the game’s climax, Link
and Midna travel to the Twilight Realm to defeat Zant. Throughout your exploration of the Palace
of Twilight, Midna hides from the wandering Twili. This is because she is embarrassed to be seen
in her impish form, as if THIS is the princess that is supposed to save them. This explains why she hides her appearance
behind a piece of the Fused Shadow, and why she hides in Link’s shadow throughout the
game. Only by defeating Zant can she truly atone…or
so she thinks. We eventually learn Zant is a mere slave to
Ganondorf after being promised power in the form of divine intervention. The man is drunk with power, and I think the
boss fight with him is a perfect demonstration of that. He never cared in the slightest for the people
of his world, seeking nothing but vengeance on Hyrule for banishing the realm so long
ago. In that sense, Zant is a reflection of who
Midna could have become had she followed a path of power and revenge. But instead, Midna doesn’t see the Twilight
Realm as something to pity. She sees beauty in it despite its appearances,
which is something that is conveyed through atmosphere and gameplay throughout the game. That, and Link’s actions spoke to her. Midna is confronted by the reality of her
power when she manages to effortlessly pop Zant like a balloon. Right then and there, she realizes how dangerous
her power is, and from there - her and Link set off for Hyrule Castle to kill Ganondorf
and end this once and for all. The atmosphere in Hyrule Castle is - as you’d
expect - breathtaking. In the courtyard, there is no music. Only the sounds of pouring rain. So you fight off bad guys until one stubborn
King Bulblin shows up for another beating. This minion of Ganondorf has impeded your
progress since the very beginning of the game, and you fight him four times over the course
of your adventure. Once to save Colin, again while escorting
Telma’s carriage to Kakariko Village, again while exploring the outpost in Gerudo Desert,
and once again here. He is the most persistent minion I have ever
seen in a Zelda game, but I never really understood why. That is, until his inevitable defeat in the
castle courtyard. He speaks. After several tests of your strength, King
Bulblin finally decides to join forces with you after seeing not only how strong you truly
were, but also where your strength comes from. In the most memorable encounters with King
Bulblin, you’re saving the people you care about. Ganondorf seems cowardly in comparison, as
he sits at the top of the castle, using Zant and Princess Zelda’s body as mere puppets. There is honor in King Bulblin’s decision,
and I respected him greatly after this battle. As you climb to the top of Hyrule Castle,
the music slowly evolves. It starts off silent and mysterious, gaining
new instruments as you ascend further, but it eventually morphs into Ganondorf’s theme,
and I love the feeling it gives me. The further I climbed, the more I wanted to
put Ganondorf in his place. This is fitting, as the castle gets harder
and harder the further you climb, putting all of your skills to the ultimate test. Eventually, you reach the top, and the fight
with Ganondorf is familiar to those that know the story of the Hero of Time - complete with
bottle tennis and a game of hide-and-seek with his own bestial form. But it’s what happened after that truly
shook me up. Zelda manages to come back to life, and with
Midna realizing that she now has a chance to repay her - she opts to sacrifice herself
using the Fused Shadow. Finally, Midna can take responsibility for
everything that’s happened over the course of the game, and do some good with the power
she possesses. Okay, Ganondorf is dead. It’s hard to articulate how absolutely heartbroken
I was when I first saw Midna’s helmet crumple to the ground, but all I knew from that point
forward was that I wanted to avenge her. But rather than letting Link run in without
any concern for his own well-being, Zelda asks for the assistance of the Light Spirits,
and what follows is one of my favourite final fights in a Zelda game. You ride around the same area from the title
screen and beyond, assisting Zelda in shooting down Ganondorf. Eventually, it’s just you and him in a sword
duel to the death, and after that - Link finally finishes the job. This only occurred to me after the deed had
been done and I saw that Midna had survived the battle, but in that moment I was blinded
by revenge. I had to ask myself if I was any better than
the people who wielded power mindlessly in the first place. My emotional reaction to that scene reaffirmed
a point the game had made about ordinary people being corrupted by power. And thankfully - Midna knew what to do next
in order to ensure something that devastating could never happen again. From here, Midna makes the most difficult
decision she has ever had to make. She shatters the Mirror of Twilight, severing
the only connection between the two worlds, making sure that no one could ever abuse their
power again. Midna’s final goodbye is symbolic of her
growth as a character. After everything she went through, she was
finally able to take responsibility and repay those that acted selflessly on her behalf. She was the only one that had the power to
sever that connection, and she used that power in the best way imaginable. Midna’s development is a prime showcase
for the game’s thesis, and one of the best characters a Zelda game has ever had. I was able to forgive her for her snobbish
nature and selfish desires at the beginning of the game; the hardest decision to forgive
her for was the one that made the most sense. Farewell, Midna. And thank you. The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess means
a lot to me, and it certainly demonstrates the Zelda team’s philosophy on moving the
series forward. In a position of power and being pressured
to deliver, they evolved the Zelda series in a responsible manner. Complimentary to this, the game is also a
cautionary tale about what power can do to an ordinary person. The imagery is often compelling, and the journey
Midna experiences in order to become the selfless person she is in the end is a heartfelt and
deeply satisfying depiction of how we can responsibly wield power. I’ve seen people that I once used to look
up to and respect abuse their power, proving that it can happen to anyone in the pursuit
of success. Honestly, with how I reacted to Midna’s
initial defeat, and with how emotional and reactionary I can be, I worry about the same
thing happening to me. All I want to do is make people happy, but
as I treat this whole YouTube thing more like a job - I often wonder how long that philosophy
will hold up. However, just as Midna had Link by her side
to show her the way, I have people around me that I can trust to ground me in the values
that drove me to create stuff in the first place. Twilight Princess certainly isn’t a perfect
game, and I understand if this video has done nothing for you - but I want you to hear me
out. If we are to take Midna and Zelda’s philosophy
on the Twilight Realm to heart, we should also believe them when they say that light
and shadow are two sides of the same coin. Hyrule and the Twilight Realm are not direct
positive and negative reflections of one another; they compliment each other. Critique of Twilight Princess does not have
to be black and white. A boring tutorial to some could be a great
reflection of a boring lifestyle that serves as a catalyst for adventure. Linearity could be detrimental to some people’s
enjoyment, while others could feel it serves a great purpose in creating atmosphere, telling
a story, or creating a succinct gameplay experience. I do not believe Twilight Princess is a reflection
of Ocarina of Time. It is proud to be something different, and
that is why I believe it is a responsible Zelda game. I’ve been Liam Triforce. Thanks for watching.
