Zelda Stories: The Benefits of Simplicity

Zelda games are known for having a fairly simple plot structure. Some of them are so rife with classic tropes that a gamer can easily identify the beginning, middle, and end during their first time with the game. The original Legend of Zelda had a clearly identified hero, villain, and plot device in the form of the Triforce. All major Zelda games have followed suit in some capacity, with notable exceptions like Majora’s Mask and Link’s Awakening being clearly identified as sidestories (Majora’s Mask was even tentatively called Zelda Gaiden–“Gaiden” means “sidestory” in Japanese). Hardcore Zelda fans love delving into the complexities of the overarching plot structure, the infamous timeline which is, in stark contrast to the individual games around which it is based, mind-numbingly complex to newcomers. The stories, standing apart from each other, however, do not offer much in the way of novel surprises.

You’ll hear varying opinions on Nintendo’s decision to stick with what works and keep things simple; most gamers simply seem indifferent, content to prioritize gameplay. A good number point towards the predictability of the Zelda formula, including its plot structure, as a weakness of the series. And some decry the simplicity of the plots.

The aim of this article is to provide one possible answer to the question of whether Nintendo should stick to the formula or change it.

Is it really all that important to make things complicated or unpredictable? Many classic stories haven’t. Touchpoints for literature like The Odyssey, Beowulf, Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, and even recent literature like Dune or Lord of the Rings follow a formula that would surprise few in the modern world. Popular film franchises like Star Wars were built on flaunting the cliches, not skirting them. Like Lord of the Rings, Zelda games exist in a classically-styled fantasy universe, one dominated by cross-cultural tropes and conventions. The architecture, the music, and yes, the story all contain cues that make themselves accessible to the widest audience possible. It’s an old trick that’s been milked ever since English professors have tried to link stories from wildly different cultures.

The name of Joseph Campbell should ring a bell for fans of modern literature. His book, “The Hero with a Thousand Faces,” laid out a pattern that heroic figures from nearly every cultural myth followed. Filmmaker George Lucas would go on to intentionally invoke the Hero’s Journey in his Star Wars films, as would other ambitious writers and filmmakers who either wanted to tell a readily accessible story or wanted to make a quick buck (The Matrix, Pirates of the Carribean, and even most Pixar films follow this formula). In very short form, the Hero in any Hero story will leave home, conquer enemies, face seemingly insurmountable obstacles, conquer a “primary” obstacle, and return home a hero. The focus is on character growth through tribulation.

We’re all familiar with the story because we’ve heard it since before we could speak. Unquestionably, every Link in every Zelda game goes through a Hero’s Journey of his own. Even already-established heroes (such as the Hero of Time in Majora’s Mask) must re-discover their inner strength through new obstacles in new lands. This works on several levels. Zelda games do not have parties. They are not multiplayer endeavors. They are single-player quests focused on adventure, exploration, and, to an extent, character-building. The adventure game is by default a manifestation of the Hero’s Journey in the form of gameplay. Zelda games are about making Link stronger, about becoming more familiar with the landscape, about defeating the boss at the end of the increasingly difficult dungeons and tackling the “main enemy” at the end.

In other words, the cliches, however widely they are criticized, work in Zelda games because they tie in so well with the gameplay. They’re essential to it in ways they are not essential to a platformer, for example. Sonic and Mario’s earliest adventures weren’t built on growth or understanding of a particular environment; they were based simply on advancement. Pong, Space Invaders, and Pac-Man were games without endings, so the satisfaction of a Hero’s Journey–the culmination of the quest with a hero’s homecoming–were impossible to achieve. Zelda’s unique formula, the very formula that makes classic tropes so essential to the story’s execution, set it apart and made it unique, epic, and unprecedented in scope. This happened at least three times over the course of the franchise–first with the original’s scale and freedom, secondly with A Link to the Past’s dual worlds, two-act story, and items, and third with Ocarina of Time’s races, lore, and three-dimensional gameplay.

Given the series’ history with the Hero’s Journey, can Zelda developers reapply, reconfigure the Hero’s Journey? More importantly, should they?

If it’s a question of whether they can, the answer should be obvious: a resounding YES. The Zelda franchise has grown in so many important ways, and been quite innovative in the process, despite the ridiculously uninformed accusation hurled at the franchise by some gamers that “they’re all the same.” In terms of gameplay, the Zelda series has seen some radical changes, whether in The Wind Waker’s great sea, Zelda II’s sidescrolling action, or Ocarina of Time’s three-dimensional universe.

Some of these changes have already necessitated tweaks to the plot. There is now one plot twist per console Zelda. While it’s tempting to clump this all into the “hero’s journey with a new face” category, it might not be quite that simple. In any case, it’s not simply about Link navigating a mazelike overworld to collect pieces of the Triforce and rescue a princess. There are nuances, and because the separate elements of Zelda games interface with each other so well, there is always a guarantee of advancement.

Of course, this brings us back to the central issue: at its core, the plot doesn’t change. This works wonders. Every seemingly superficial change–drowning Hyrule, the presentation of Zelda not as a princess but as a regular girl, etc., make for some of the most memorable ideas in any Zelda game. As integral as unique puzzles, visual styles, and combat style are to each Zelda game’s individual identity, the plot can be just as important. By wrapping it around things we’re familiar with the developers give us an opportunity to embrace the nuances in character and plot that we may miss in a more ambitious, more complex story.

Much as Nintendo wraps new gameplay ideas around traditional structures, the stories in Zelda games call attention to themselves with subtle shifts, not wild new ideas. Were Nintendo to try something different, they could pull it off. But they don’t need to, anymore than they need to change the basic idea of having dungeons, an overworld, item collection, etc. Part of what has always made Zelda such a revolutionary franchise is its accessibility and predictability–and the surprises framed by that predictability.