Metroid Prime 4: Beyond: A Beautiful Franken-Game That Somehow Found Its Soul
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
Samus Aran's long-awaited adventure in Metroid Prime 4: Beyond is a wild, messy journey of brilliant environmental storytelling and perplexing design choices, a testament to a game that fought for its very existence and still managed to find its own unique magic amidst the chaos.
Right, so *Metroid Prime 4: Beyond*. Bloody hell, where do we even start with this one? It's been a ride, hasn't it? Years of whispers, that sudden reveal back in 2017, then the full-on 'oops, we borked it, let's start again' moment in 2019. Honestly, it felt like casting a complex spell, only for it to backfire spectacularly, leaving everyone wondering if we'd ever see Samus again in her Prime form. But here we are, and what we've got is... well, it's a bit of a glorious, beautiful mess, if I'm being honest.
It’s like Retro Studios looked at the whole saga of the game’s development – Bandai Namco dropping out, Retro being brought in as the saviour – and thought, 'You know what? Let's just lean into that chaos.' This game, as I’ve been tinkering with its story, really hammers home this idea, comparing its own troubled birth to the plight of the Lamorn, the psychic alien race Samus encounters. They’re a species on the brink, desperately trying to bottle up their legacy and hoping some 'Chosen One' comes along to finish their work. Sound familiar? It’s a wonderfully meta narrative, actually, this war between hopelessness and faith, playing out both in the story and in the game’s very existence.
Now, for a 'long-awaited sci-fi sequel,' you'd expect a grand, singular vision, right? Nah, mate. This is more of a 'noble restoration attempt that does its best to pick up the pieces of a shattered vision.' What we get is a disjointed effort, swinging wildly between 'pensive sci-fi' and 'loudmouthed military fantasy.' But stick with me here, because even amidst the chaos, there are moments of pure, unadulterated *Metroid Prime* brilliance.
They kick things off in top gear, which is a bit of a surprise for a *Prime* game, I reckon. Samus is dropped straight into a war zone, gunning down Space Pirates alongside Galactic Federation soldiers. It’s a solid way to jump back into the first-person action, with the classic lock-on shooting and the ever-satisfying scan visor. Scanning everything in sight, soaking up the lore – that’s the good stuff, truly. And it sets up this big, tense showdown with Sylux, this bounty-hunting villain who's been lurking in post-credits scenes for *two decades*. A proper archnemesis, poised for an epic confrontation.
Except... that payoff never actually comes. Bloody hell! Sylux is immediately whisked away, barely makes another appearance, and when he does, you learn precisely nothing revelatory about his motives. He's a total non-factor. And get this – the game is apparently more of a direct sequel to *Metroid Prime: Federation Force* than to *Prime 3: Corruption*. *Federation Force*, the critically panned Nintendo 3DS co-op game! You can practically hear the sound of drastic rewrites happening, leaving fragments of a lost story scattered like digital breadcrumbs.
It seems Retro Studios, bless their experimental hearts, were far more interested in weaving a quieter, more subtle narrative. Once Samus gets stranded on Viewros, she inherits psychic abilities, diving deep into the history of the extinct Lamorn race. The true heart of the story isn't about Sylux or space battles, but about lore logs and recorded transmissions from ancient priests. Samus's new purpose becomes loading the Lamorn’s legacy into a 'Memory Fruit' – which, frankly, sounds like a delicious way to save a civilisation – and spreading their knowledge across the galaxy. It’s a wonderfully motivating setup, echoing the Chozo extinction tale from the first *Prime* game. Maybe this time, Samus *can* do right by a doomed race.
And honestly, Viewros itself? It’s magnificent. The Lamorn are the true stars here, existing only in these scannable traces, yet their world is built entirely around their culture. You’ve got Fury Green, a lush jungle with sacred temples, showing their spiritual side. Then there’s Volt Forge, an industrial factory churning out motorcycles on an AI-powered assembly line, hinting at their advanced tech. The environmental storytelling here is, dare I say, some of the series’ finest. It’s not just an 'ice area' or a 'fire level'; it’s an abandoned Lamorn science lab frozen over, a factory powered by lightning storms. It’s the 'why' behind the biome, and it makes all the difference. Compared to some other recent biome-hopping exclusives, where areas feel like gimmicks with little rhyme or reason, *Prime 4*'s Viewros is truly memorable, and apparently, the best-looking Nintendo game of the Switch era. That's no small feat, mate.
Now, here’s where things get a bit wonky for traditional *Metroid* fans. While it looks and feels like a *Prime* game, it’s also the most linear *Metroid* outside of *Hunters*. You’re not getting that sprawling Metroidvania hook straight away. You’ll see most of a biome’s rooms on your first pass, through tightly directed setpieces. It only properly 'clicked' for me once I realised it wasn't built like a *Metroid* game at all; it was built like a traditional 3D *Zelda* adventure. Sol Valley, the traversable desert hub, isn't a proper open world à la *Breath of the Wild* (though it clearly started with those ambitions, which didn't quite coalesce). Instead, it’s more akin to Hyrule Field in *Ocarina of Time* – a transport hub, giving the world some scale, but not truly open.
The biomes, then, are more like elaborate dungeons, intricate puzzle boxes. The gear-gating isn't grand scale; it’s compact, dungeon-level. This actually opens the door for some truly fulfilling item-hunting later on, with missile upgrades, energy tanks, and elemental ammo tucked into clever environmental puzzles – a spider web here, a crate to lasso there, even an ordinary-looking vehicle that’s actually a puzzle in disguise. It makes Samus’s tools feel incredibly versatile, creating some genuinely exceptional late-game collecting. All of this, despite the initial disappointment of linearity, could easily make *Prime 4* one of the better installments. *If it weren't for the Galactic Federation*.
Oh, the Galactic Federation. Here’s the true 'Frankenstein' moment, where the stitches really start to show. It’s not just Samus stranded on Viewros; it's a handful of soldiers too. The idea, apparently, was pitched for *Prime 2* and is revived here. Narratively consistent, sure, but handled in 'jaw-droppingly clumsy ways.' The troops themselves are harmless enough stock characters – tough sergeant, aloof sniper, goofy engineer – but one, Myles MacKenzie, becomes *Prime 4*'s equivalent of Navi from *Zelda*. You know, that relentlessly annoying companion who screams 'HEY! LISTEN!' every five seconds? Yeah, that. Myles obnoxiously radios Samus *any time she’s exploring Sol Valley to tell her exactly where to go next*.
This is where my gentle skepticism turns into a full-blown 'are you kidding me, mate?' moment. *Metroid Prime 4* apparently thinks its players are 'very, very stupid. Like, unbelievably dimwitted.' You walk into a room with one exit, and a companion shouts, 'This must be the way!' A cinematic explosion reveals a morph ball hole, and a soldier *points directly at it* and tells you it's the exit. You get map data, a pop-up tells you to press the minus button, and then a companion chimes in: 'Wanna check your map?' Bloody hell, it’s like they’re holding your hand while simultaneously poking you in the eye with a stick. Retro has solved for player guidance before with subtle cues, scan features, cutscenes. These soldiers don’t replace those; they *talk over them*. You get up to three nudges for a single obstacle! In the one major Nintendo series that isn’t aimed at its youngest players! It’s a baffling misstep.
And those troopers also exist to push *Prime* into a more straight-laced action game, which, frankly, stretches the combat system a bit thin. *Prime* combat has always been puzzle-like, using elemental beams strategically. Here, you’re often just shooting down wave after wave of monsters, sometimes even protecting troops (hello, *Federation Force* again!). Even with new mouse controls, it feels like a directional misfire.
These 'half-formed' ideas pop up elsewhere too. Samus's psychic abilities, for instance. Early on, you think, 'Right, this is gonna be wild!' Her control beam, guiding shots to tricky targets, is a standout. But then the creative well dries up, and most subsequent 'psychic skills' are just standard *Metroid* upgrades, but... psychic! It leaves you wondering what could have been.
Ultimately, all these disjointed bits – the amazing Lamorn saga, the half-baked open desert, Sylux’s disappearing act, the military story clashing with the alien tragedy, the incredible design of Viewros contrasting with the hand-holding NPCs – they all bring me back to the Lamorn’s desperate fight for survival. Their story is one of perseverance in the face of impending disaster. When all hope seemed lost, they still tried again. And that’s why Samus carrying their memory home is so important. There’s wisdom in their struggle, knowledge in their forgotten triumphs.
And in all its mighty messiness, I feel the same about *Metroid Prime 4: Beyond*. Between all the failed experiments built to resuscitate a once-powerful series, there are sublime moments that keep pieces of its legacy sacred. You can find real hope in its remarkable level design, its evolved item-hunting, those genre-hopping action setpieces (even if the companions can't stop yapping through the tension). There’s a future in *Metroid Prime 4*, mate, so long as someone’s brave enough to excavate the seed from the wreckage and replant it in healthier soil. It’s a fascinating creature, this game, releasing December 4th on Nintendo Switch and Switch 2, and one you just might have to experience to truly understand.
Tags: Metroid Prime, Nintendo Switch 2, Action-Adventure, Game Review, Development Hell
Original article: Polygon