Fresh Takes: I Hated Skyward Sword for Over a Decade, So I Gave It a Second Chance

It’s hard to believe that over 13 years have passed since I first played The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. Having become disillusioned with Nintendo’s family-friendly image as my teenage edge turned me towards what I thought were more mature games, I hoped that Skyward Sword would be a return to form for Nintendo. The beautifully orchestrated trailers, the promise of 1:1 motion-controlled sword combat, and the onslaught of near-perfect reviews convinced me that this was the game that would prove the Wii as something capable of more than just cheap gimmicks (forgive me, I was a stupid 18-year-old).

Skyward Sword was the reason I bought a Wii, so my anticipation couldn’t have been higher. Excitedly, I booted up the game and, although the tutorial was lengthy (which I understood because the controls were quite alienating), I was having a blast. The story was gripping, the art style matched the tone of the game perfectly, and the soundtrack was phenomenal. Even then, however, I thought the game was a bit too cautious, steering me from place to place without much room for deviation. It felt like I was bowling with the bumpers up and a coach constantly correcting my posture. “The first three dungeons are always an introductory period. I’m sure it’ll ease up eventually,” I told myself. But after that third dungeon, the game ground to a halt.

Where I expected some kind of change, I was met with nothing. I expected the world to expand in some meaningful way, whether it be new areas to explore, game-changing story beats, more player freedom, or a combination of the three. None of these happened. The game still held my hand, nothing drastically shook-up the narrative, and Link’s journey took him to the same three regions again. By the time I killed Mike Wazowski’s girlfriend on the Sandship, fought Ghirahim again, and fought the Imprisoned three times, I was exhausted. Playing felt like a chore. It pained me because The Legend of Zelda was, and still is, my favorite video game series. I wanted to like Skyward Sword so much, but I just was not having fun.

I was then tasked with visiting the same three regions for a third time, starting with a meaningless filler quest to collect Tadtones for the Water Dragon. It was then that I put the game down. I was so disappointed. Was the game really entering its third act with filler content? Collecting Tadtones is something you’d do for a swimming tutorial or a side quest, not as a late-game main quest objective. I’d had enough.

Ten years had turned disappointment into apathy, which in turn developed into hatred. I was angry that Skyward Sword didn’t live up to its potential. I was angry that it had so many obvious issues that the developers overlooked or didn’t care to correct. While I certainly found myself in the camp of Zelda fans that mocked and ridiculed the game, deep down I really wanted to like it. I wanted to see it as others saw it. What was I missing? What are they finding so enjoyable that I couldn’t?

Still, that unfinished save file sat on my Wii, now gathering dust. That call to clear it from my backlog kept nagging me. So, on a Friday afternoon in 2021, I booted up the game and, over the next three days, dragged that old save file to the finish line. This was not an enjoyable experience. Even with me ignoring all side content and just brute-forcing the main quest, the game was such a slog. But, Demise was defeated and the credits rolled. Satisfied, I put Skyward Sword back on the shelf and vowed never to play it again.

Three years later, I broke my vow as if I had been married by an Elvis impersonator at a 24-hour chapel and decided to give Skyward Sword a second chance. That itch to go back became too much to bear. I just knew that I had to be missing something. So, I shook off all of my preconceived notions and dove back into Skyward Sword with no grudges and no expectations to see if I could finally enjoy it.

Did my opinion change? I’ll flesh out the good, the bad, and the ugly as I share with you my fresh take on The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword.

 

The Motion Control Gimmick

Almost every Zelda game has a gimmick. For Ocarina of Time, it was the jump to 3D and time travel. Twilight Princess had the wolf transformation. Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks had touch controls. Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom had an extreme devotion to player freedom and non-linearity. Gimmicks, as they are used in the Zelda series, are by no means a bad thing. They help forge a unique identity for each game, keeping things fresh so that Zelda won’t ever end up in the bargain bin of cookie-cutter annual releases. Skyward Sword‘s unique identity is intrinsically tied to motion controls. Skyward Sword would not exist without motion controls.

With a console like the Wii, a Zelda game with 1:1 sword combat was a necessity. Nintendo could not expect the consumer to consider the Wii a serious console for gamers if the motion controls were really only utilized in party games and mini-game collections. Sure, games like Super Mario Galaxy and Donkey Kong Country Returns used them in a limited capacity, but this never amounted to more than shaking the controller or pointing at the screen. As evidenced by how easy it was to port both to the Switch, motion controls were not a priority in those games. What the Wii needed was for a serious flagship franchise to make full use of motion controls, and Zelda was just the game to do it.

Despite what some critics may say, I think the motion controls are great. They function about as well as you can expect the Wii to handle and they were implemented in such a way that justified their presence in the game. Never once did motion controls feel like an afterthought. That being said, motion control implementation wasn’t always a home run. There are some places that require motion controls where standard controls would have been preferable, like with swimming and tight ropes, the latter of which adds absolutely nothing of value to the game. Tight ropes are terrible and I hated every second I was on one. Thankfully, such cases are rare.

Skyward Sword was surprisingly inventive with how it implemented motion controls into what otherwise would have been ordinary actions. Some locks require the player to insert Link’s sword into the keyhole with a forward thrust and then rotate the controller to turn the lock. The Fire Sanctuary’s Water Fruit will slice open when slashed, but will stick on the end of Link’s sword when stabbed.

Beamos are one of the most satisfying common enemies to fight because the player must cut them into pieces with horizontal swings and then stab them in the eye for the killing blow. Another enemy, Skulltullas, must be flipped with an upward strike, followed by a lunging downward strike into their soft belly. Combat like that is only possible in a game like Skyward Sword, and the game was at its best when it embraced those unique opportunities.

 

Grand Adventure… or Guided Tour

Skyward Sword opens in Skyloft, a hidden civilization high above the clouds. Despite being in an expansive world in the sky, humans are bound to floating islands that feel restrictive both to the lead characters and the player. As such, there is frequent talk of a mysterious land below the clouds that beckons the Skyloftians, and the player, to explore.

This call to adventure was my first source of disappointment when I played Skyward Sword all those years ago. Imagining a large interconnected world like Twilight Princess or Majora’s Mask, I was surprised that each of Hyrule’s three regions existed independent of one another. Instead of free travel between regions on the Surface, Link must return to the sky and fly to an access point. This fell far below my initial expectations, which weren’t unreasonable given the traditional structure of the Zelda series and the way non-playable characters (NPCs) talked about the Surface.

That being said, if I shrug off those expectations as I had in my most recent playthrough, this structure didn’t bother me as much. While I would have still liked to see more than three regions, forcing the player to revisit each region is fine as long as they make it worth the trip. The Lanayru Desert does more than enough to justify repeat visits by continually introducing unique and inventive gameplay features. The other two regions, on the other hand, wear out their welcome before your second visits are through.

So, the world may not be as large in scale as the game teases, but the player still has ample freedom to explore, right? Well… not really. Skyward Sword is a very linear game, much more so than any other Zelda title. Linear isn’t bad, as long as the player is aware of this fact and is allowed at least some wiggle room to pursue their curiosities. Skyward Sword did little to address either of those conditions, and the roadblocks it puts in place to keep the player on the correct path can feel oppressive at times.

It’s normal for games to nudge the player in the right direction, but they’re usually clever enough that players don’t recognize these nudges. For example, players don’t need to be told to climb the mountain in Super Mario 64‘s Bob-Omb Battlefield because we want to do it, and design of the map naturally leads us there. Elden Ring players aren’t ordered to visit the Weeping Peninsula because the heavily guarded bridge at the end of the first major road one comes to begs the player to explore. By melding the player’s natural sense of curiosity with the world design, games can seamlessly teach the player and direct them on the proper course while still feeling like a game.

Skyward Sword doesn’t have such subtlety. Constant interruptions and lengthy dialogue designed to keep you on the right track and to cram every piece of exposition possible into your brain made almost every moment of Skyward Sword feel like an extended tutorial. I could get into the nitty gritty of how each area fights to keep you on the proper course with little tact, but there is one dungeon in particular that I feel perfectly highlights the point I’m trying to make: the Sandship.

The Sandship is a dungeon with great promise. It has this incredible mechanic where players must use a Timeshift Stone affixed atop the ship’s mast to repeatedly switch the dungeon between past and present. Since the Timeshift Stone can only be accessed from certain areas, and doors may be open or closed depending on whether the Stone is activated or not, there is incredible potential for complex dungeon design. Ideally, the player would be forced to think two steps ahead, considering how multiple variables affect navigation, similar to Ocarina of Time‘s Water Temple. However, Skwyard Sword doesn’t trust the player that much. Instead, the player is taken on a guided tour of the ship, and Fi (Link’s trusty companion) makes sure to leave nothing to the imagination.

Towards the beginning of the dungeon, Fi makes sure to point out the Timeshift Stone and explain what it does, even though we’ve had extensive experience with Timeshift Stones in the lead-up to the Sandship. As you work your way through the ship, robots will mark your map to tell you where to go next. At one point, I dared to go of course. I pursued my curiosity to see what was behind a door and I found myself restarting the ship’s generator. Fi stopped me and said I must talk to the crew first. I went down to the crew, who said that before I do anything, I must first start the generator.

Throughout your exploration of the Lanayru Desert, you hear talk of a ruthless pirate captain. When you face this captain as the ship’s mid-boss, the player can piece together who it is just by context clues alone. That’s not good enough for Skyward Sword. Fi interrupts the fight to tell the player that this is indeed the pirate captain. Again, she makes sure to leave nothing to the imagination — more on that later.

So, the dungeon continues with regular interruptions to explain obvious things and mark your map. Never once does it feel like you’re solving any puzzles or exploring a dungeon. The game micromanages every single thing you do in the Sandship and it just sucks all of the fun out of it.

Fi reached peak idiocy at the Sandship’s boss. The Sandship itself becomes the boss room as a giant monster attacks. An escape sequence full of tilting rooms, falling debris, and giant tentacles bursting through walls makes for a very cinematic experience. I would even say it’s one of the more impressive parts of the game. The buildup to this boss conjures images in your mind of what fierce creature could be destroying the ship, so it is a little disappointing that it ends up looking like Mike Wazowski’s girlfriend, but that’s not the point I’m making here.

Throughout this boss fight (or the lead-up to it), Fi constantly interrupts you to state the obvious. She just has to break the tension by stopping Link in his tracks to tell him that there’s an 80% chance that the ship is under attack from a big monster. Then she does it again to tell Link that there’s a 90% chance the monster is outside. As if the player couldn’t figure that out!

These comments add nothing of value, and they epitomize everything wrong with this dungeon as well as one of my biggest complaints with the game as a whole: it does not trust you, and it does not respect your intelligence. Skyward Sword doesn’t trust you to solve puzzles on your own, or find the right path forward on your own. It doesn’t believe that you can figure out that a monster is attacking as you are literally dodging giant tentacles.

This type of over-explanation stifles exploration and dampens the player experience. The game — usually through Fi — tells you plainly what everything is and what you need to do. There’s no reason to pursue curiosities because there are no curiosities (unless Gratitude Crystals give you a thrill). Even in moments where the game tells you to explore, like when you’re dowsing for pieces of a key at Elden Volcano, the game keeps you on a fixed course. Although you are technically free to go where you want, dowsing only points to one key shard at a time. It leads me to believe that even if you could deviate from the required path, there’s no reason to because there is nothing to discover.

So, where the player is promised a grand adventure, you are actually treated to a guided tour. While it is perfectly normal for a game’s main quest to take you through most major landmarks, like a tour of Hyrule, they usually don’t stick you with an uptight tour guide who tells you, “Don’t touch,” when you so much as lift a finger.

 

A Change of Heart

If it sounds like I’m being harsh, it’s because Skyward Sword does have some legitimate issues that I can’t rectify. There were plenty of times that I wanted to pull my hair out from frustration, or bash my head against a wall because of blatant, uninteresting filler. However, I still had fun. I legitimately enjoyed my time with Skyward Sword, so much that I would actively look forward to playing it every day. That isn’t something I ever thought I would say.

So, what changed? What happened between 2011 and 2025 that made me appreciate this game? Well, I think recent trends in Zelda have a lot to do with that.

Since the release of Breath of the Wild, Nintendo has taken an open-ended approach to Zelda which embraces non-linearity and free exploration to an extreme degree. The release of Echoes of Wisdom at first looked like a return to traditional Zelda, but even that adopted some of elements of open-ended Zelda. Let me be clear: I love Breath of the Wild, I respect what Tears of the Kingdom did with its gameplay, and I had an absolute blast with Echoes of Wisdom. I don’t want you to think that I dislike the modern approach to Zelda, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t run its course a bit.

It’s great that puzzles accommodate any passable solution, but I also love puzzles with a single answer. I love free exploration in a massive world, but I also love the benefits that come with stricter progression, like curated set pieces and tighter storytelling. I’m glad the openness of modern Zelda‘s gameplay allows players to express themselves, but not every game needs to be a medium for self-expression. And let’s be real, finding a new item hits so much harder than collecting echo #136. If I’m being honest, after three games that have taken this open-ended approach, a game with less freedom felt like a breath of fresh air. I find it interesting that many of the things that made me hate Skyward Sword the first time I played it are exactly what I enjoy about it now.

So, why did I hate Skyward Sword? After playing it for this fresh take, I realize that it just came out at the wrong time for me. In 2011, I wanted bigger worlds and bigger games — more, more, more. That meant a smaller disconnected world with overly recycled content just did not appeal to me. Skyward Sword is just not the game that 2011 me wanted. It is a straightforward game that prioritized gameplay and story above building a massive world, for better or worse.

Since then, my life and perspective have changed a lot. I’m a dad with a job and other responsibilities. I don’t have three hours a day to play video games. Those big games don’t appeal to me as much because actually finishing them is often an unattainable goal. And maybe that’s why one of my bigger complaints about Skyward Sword, especially now, is the filler. When I only have an hour a day to play games, I don’t want to spend that hour wasting my time with dowsing or Tadtones. For that reason, I’d actually like this game even more if it was shorter, trimmed of all the fat, briskly moving the player from one meaningful element to another. I’ve taken this to such an extreme that even wordy dialogue became a source of frustration. “Oh, just shut up and let me play the game,” was something I said audibly more than a few times.

If you’ve noticed, there’s a bit of an odd duality in my criticisms. On one hand, I’ll complain that the game holds your hand too much and won’t let you explore. On the other hand, I appreciate the streamlined approach that ensures I make progress each time I play. So what’s the deal? Well, it comes back to that subtlety I mentioned before. It’s okay for a game to be linear. It’s okay for the game to offer guidance or directions. However, this can’t be done at the expense of the player experience. We want to feel like we’re in control, even if we’re not. If I want to go off course and pursue a curiosity, let me. I know it’s hard to strike that balance perfectly, but regularly stopping gameplay for exposition dumps and course corrections is not the way to do it.

Regardless, I liked that Skyward Sword had structure. I liked that the puzzles were purposefully designed with intended outcomes. I liked that the story was free to make an impact on the world and place temporary restrictions on the player (e.g. Silent Realm, Eldin Volcano item recovery quest). I liked that every corner of the world felt deliberate, not procedurally generated. I liked that despite the filler and a clear lack of tact, Skyward Sword had a clear path laid out for the player, so I knew when I played it, even if for only half an hour, I could make meaningful progress.

What Skyward Sword lacks in subtlety and player choice, it makes up for by just having really fun gameplay and an immersive story. The motion controls are great. The combat is engaging. Structured set pieces like the Shipyard roller coaster or escaping from the the hidden dungeon of the Ancient Cistern were more worth my time than hours of free exploration in a mostly empty world. The linear nature of the story made me care more about my quest than any number of flashback cutscenes ever could.

After over a decade of negativity towards The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, I’m happy to say that I’ve changed my tune. This doesn’t mean that it’s my favorite game in the series — I wouldn’t even say it cracks the top ten — but I’m glad to have had a mostly positive experience with another Zelda game. I’m glad that there is no longer a game on my Zelda shelf that I don’t enjoy.

So, who’s to say? Maybe another decade will be kind to this game and improve my appreciation of it even more. Maybe time won’t be so kind to other Zelda games. Or maybe my appreciation of Skyward Sword will flip flop as my interests ebb and flow. Who knows? But for now, I’m happy to say that, with a fresh set of eyes, Skyward Sword is pretty darn good. 

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Let’s hear your experiences. Have you had a change of heart with any Zelda game before? What Zelda games have improved with age? Have you had a similar experience to mine with any other game, Zelda or not? Tell us all about it in the comments below.