Nintendo 64

"Coulda, shoulda, didn't"

As the successor to the glorious SNES, the Nintendo 64--ambitiously codenamed 'Project Reality'--had the task of dealing with an upstart competitor in the Sony PlayStation. Indeed, it was Nintendo's own refusal to use Sony's disc format that had led to the PlayStation's development. At the time, that seemed trivial, for Nintendo had pole position in the console race. Two factors in particular looked decisive: the new console's impressive 64-bit processing power; and Nintendo's long tradition of quality first-party titles that, even in old-fashioned cartridges, drew gamers like magic.

The 64's much-hyped launch title, Super Mario 64, encapsulated the fledgling console's strengths—and Nintendo's hopes and dreams. Here was a classic series of old transformed seamlessly into three dimensions, vibrant, bold, brilliant. Mario could walk, run, jump, swim, climb, shoot himself from cannons, and explore colourful worlds wherein expansive fields, ruddy hills, lucid pools and menacing halls of fire leapt from the screen. Nintendo had literally added a whole new dimension to its hallmark series.

Critical to the 64's emergence was its controller. Unlike the rectangular boxes of old, the 64 controller featured an array of buttons plastered over three prongs that melded into gamers' hands. In the middle was an analogue control stick, which could be tilted over 360 degrees. This was a Big Thing. Never before could gamers control Mario's actions with such precision. The plumber could amble, run, in whichever direction; we could make fine adjustments in aiming him out of cannons.

The N64 had this knack for displaying rich environments in which gamers had a thrilling level of control over their actions. But soon after the runaway success of Super Mario 64 came the idea that any game aspiring to similar heights had to be 3D, had to be some sort of adventuring experience. And so third-party developers were reluctant to embark on huge games that sold for twenty dollars more than PlayStation titles. Nintendo's extra dimension ironically limited its breadth of games.

Other troubles emerged. The system's emphasis on friendly 3D gameplay at an often sedate pace led to 2D platformers and fighters being underrepresented well into the 64's lifetime. Fighting games in particular were affected by the presence of only two main buttons. As well, Nintendo's cartridge format limited audio quality and precluded cinematic movies, a body blow to role-playing games. And developers largely shunned mature audiences as they aimed their titles at the largest possible audience. Nintendo could only watch as divergent yet successful titles appeared in droves on the PlayStation, while its own library stagnated. The situation was especially bad in Japan, where the N64 and its controller were ridiculed as ugly, and its games panned as kiddie ventures.

There were occasional great games – aerial shooter Star Fox 64, and popular racer Mario Kart 64 – but by then we were getting used to the analogue controls, and the PC was fast emerging as a legitimate gaming platform, able to render similar or better 3D environments. Nintendo's chief worry was the continued dominance of the PlayStation. Final Fantasy VII was a massive hit, and one surely rued by Nintendo, for it had let developer Square defect.

Enter GoldenEye. Second-party developer Rare did for first-person shooters what Mario 64 had done for platformers. Goldeneye was a polished, brilliantly immersing game, combining missions of stealth and reconnaissance with sharp, intense shootouts. Smart AI, genuine difficulty and Rare's classy level design made Goldeneye a genre-defining classic. But it was the game's multiplayer aspect that made it a commercial success. Rare incorporated, almost at the last minute, a split-screen mode where up to four players could simultaneously battle for ascendancy using weapons like Bond's famous moonraker laser and proximity mines. So began the era of true multiplayer gaming.

Console sales started to pick up, and Nintendo's biggest hit to date, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time arrived in 1998 to massive acclaim. Here was a game that simply put gamers into a beautiful (but stricken) world and let them stay there for hours and hours. With the advent of a 4MB memory expansion pack to enhance graphics, and the proliferation of similarly atmospheric titles like Banjo Kazooie and Turok: Dinosaur Hunter, it seemed that the Nintendo 64 had finally matured.

But Nintendo still wasn't attracting enough third-party ventures, and good games like Aidyn Chronicles nonetheless failed in the RPG market (along with bad games like Quest 64), so even its emergent strength was bled dry. In a rush to create the next GoldenEye, Acclaim produced Turok 2, a shooter that became a victim of its own hype and ambition. Too large for its own good, it stranded players in its sparse, if gorgeous, worlds, and bogged them down in low-framerate action. Similarly, Donkey Kong 64''s gigantic, dynamic surrounds suffocated under sluggish gameplay and unnecessary scavenging for items. The economy of the 16-bit era had been lost.

These disappointments frustrated gamers and deeply hurt Nintendo's standing. One could only play through so many ponderous platformers. Even excellent sequels like Zelda: Majora's Mask and Perfect Dark faltered when compared to their illustrious predecessors. The 64 needed more games with originality, with verve and heart, to win over Sony's growing fanbase.

Such games did appear. These vital ‘second-tier' titles, the sleeper hits made by third party developers, included the atmospheric, subtle shoot-em-up Body Harvest. Through its gloomy ambiance and intelligent pacing it garnered good reviews, but not mainstream sales. Similarly, Rayman 2 provided a breezy, surreal counterpoint to Donkey Kong's overbearing theme, but met with modest sales. It didn't help that Nintendo's own concepts went flat. Yoshi's Story was supposed to be a return to traditional 2D platforming, but for all its creativity the miniscule quest was a mere shade of the original. No wonder other titles went overlooked and underplayed.

By the time original games like Jet Force Gemini got their adventurous, fluent formula together, the PlayStation was already dominant. Even the unexpected success of Super Smash Brothers, Nintendo's first successful fighting game this generation (and an insanely addicting multiplayer fest at that), failed to give Nintendo the weight it once held as a console maker. Other successful titles like Mario Tennis and Mario Party were, despite their merits, little more than party games that weren't going to create hardcore or loyal fans for Nintendo.

And so the 64 was truly – and justifiably – pigeonholed. There were still great titles from left field, games like Rare's Conker's Bad Fur Day and Silicon Valley which were willing to be different in their search of pure fun; but Sony's horse had already bolted. As far as the mainstream crowd was concerned, the 64 had Mario, Zelda, Bond, and little else. It's hard to blame them when Nintendo itself generated the massive hype under which it languished.

So Nintendo created an enigma, a system that was alternately kept viable by its big names and cramped by pandering to them; a collection of games that, despite its strengths, never attained the critical mass needed to generate real energy and passion. Surely there were enough sublime moments to validate the 64 as a system: the majesty and sweep of Ocarina of Time, the psyche-rending stealth of GoldenEye, the sheer fun of Super Smash Brothers. It's a pity that such moments came at the expense of a whole ‘nuther dimension, as it were, of games.

Reviewer's Score: 7/10, Originally Posted: 01/07/02, Updated 08/29/06