Super Mario Odyssey Made me Nostalgic for Something I've Never Experienced Before

WARNING: Minor Spoilers for environments and levels in Super Mario Odyssey follow.

Nostalgia is a powerful force. It basically dictates all of the social media activity of my entire generation. And it’s a hugely bankable commodity when it comes to entertainment. Revivals, remakes, and spiritual sequels alike are currently dominating on television, in cinema, and in gaming. Hell, I audibly shrieked when I first found out that the first three Crash Bandicoot titles were being remastered for the PS4, and N. Sane Trilogy is easily one of my favorite games of the year. Yooka-Laylee and A Hat in Time are part of a new wave of games designed to revive the 3D platformer genre, and seem to be succeeding. An entire subset of the gaming industry is being built, brick by brick, on a foundation of nostalgia.

The undisputed champion of nostalgia, however, has always been Mario.

Mario has a very rare universal appeal. Even people with very little familiarity with gaming will recognize something about Mario. His look; his moustache or red-and-blue overalls; or his iconic voice lines: the “it’s-a-me!” or the “here we go!” Bam. Instant cognitive connection.

Super Mario 64 sits at the top of countless Top 10 favorite games lists. Some of my peers swear by Super Mario Sunshine. While the former was certainly a revolution for 3D graphics, but the rose-tinted goggles seem to, for some folks, mitigate the glaring faults that these games have. That nostalgia stretches back all the way to the original Super Mario Bros. Whenever Nintendo releases another big Mario title, we’re all collectively reminded of the plucky little plumber who singlehandedly brought home-gaming back from the brink of obsolescence.

But I never had that as a child. My childhood belongs to PlayStation mascots like Crash Bandicoot and Spyro the Dragon. I didn’t play Super Mario 64 until after I had graduated high school. I still haven’t played Sunshine. And while I can appreciate the existence of Mario 64 and everything it did for the industry, It simply doesn’t have that effect on me. I can’t love that game like others do. Even with the Galaxy series; I enjoy the hell out of those games, but I don’t love them.

But I am undoubtedly in love with Super Mario Odyssey.

Embarking on the adventure of a lifetime.

I couldn’t help but be drawn to the game when it was released. I didn’t have a Switch at the time so I watched gameplay from every creator I could. I was infatuated by this game. I received a Switch as an early Christmas present this year, and immediately picked up Odyssey to try it for myself. And it’s easily one of my favorite games of the year.

The praise for Odyssey is pretty much universal. All over YouTube and Twitter, reviewers, content creators, and fans alike are calling the game a modern masterpiece. And I’d be inclined to agree; this feels like a culmination of everything a 3D Mario game could be in 2017. But there is some consensus that nostalgia elevates the game to another level; it takes lifelong Mario fans back to when they were a kid, hopping around Bob-Omb Battlefield for the first time, enamored by the sheer freedom of movement and the possibilities that came with it.

I feel this same way about Odyssey. There’s magic woven into the fabric of this game. It captures a part of my imagination that very few games are able to do. It makes me feel happy. It makes me feel like a kid again. It fills me with nostalgia, even though I never experienced a Mario game as a kid. So I find myself wondering, just how the hell do you do it, Odyssey?

Well, part of it has to be down to sheer quality. Games with a certain level of polish always do a great job at capturing my imagination, and Odyssey is no exception. It’s one of the most finely polished 3D Platformers I’ve ever played. But there’s something about the level of detail and care put into crafting this game that makes it just a little bit more special.

For starters, this game is unapologetically fun. I never thought in my heart of hearts that I would want to play dress-up with Mario. But, I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of my favorite features of the game. Dressing Mario in a pirate costume or tuxedo and hopping around to your heart’s desire just oozes pure youthful joy.

Paired up with the concept of Mario dress-up, is the level design. Not only does each Kingdom stand out a bit more than a level in Mario Galaxy, swapping out linearity and tight platforming for openness and exploration, but each of these levels are wondrous to behold. For a prime example, take Luncheon Kingdom. It’s a beautiful, colorful, imaginative, completely implausible world. My mind makes a connection between this level and something like Lethal Lava Land from 64. It’s a lava/fire level, but the lava is boiling hot soup. This is such a cool subversion of the classic lava world that has been a staple of Mario games for decades now, and it translates into something undeniably new and interesting.

Luncheon Kingdom is one of the most vibrant, colorful Kingdoms in the game.

The pot of Stupendous Stew, perched atop Mount Volbono in the Luncheon Kingdom. Basically Odyssey's equivalent of lava.

New Donk City does something similar, but is much more self-aware. The entire city; Mayor Pauline, the Festival, the name "New Donk City," it’s all a nod to Mario’s origin in the original Donkey Kong. It’s a celebration of the now 30-year legacy of the most iconic character in gaming. And even if you’re like me, and you haven’t been directly involved in that legacy for any extended period of time, it welcomes you with open arms and makes you feel included in the celebration. One can find some semblance of this reverence of the franchise’s history in every level. They all play on classic Mario settings: the Tostarena Desert in the Sand Kingdom, the gorgeous water levels at the Lake and Seaside Kingdoms, the endlessly charming Snow Kingdom, and that’s neglecting to mention the late-game content which takes the nostalgia dial and cranks it up to 12. I won’t spoil it here, because even I haven’t gotten to it yet, but it gives all those Mario 64 fans something to scream about in an exercise of pure, untethered joy.

The New Donk City Celebration Festival.

Mayor Pauline Singing "Jump Up, Super Star!"

(Update: I have now reached this post-game content, and yes, it does feel like a time machine taking you back to your childhood. It’s a lovely piece of fan-service on Nintendo’s part.)

That’s basically a microcosm of what Odyssey is. It’s a continuous balance of the old and the new, which is what a quality piece of nostalgic art does best. It takes familiarity and teams it with something fresh and innovative. Odyssey does this mechanically and aesthetically. The classic Mario movement system is as tight and satisfying as ever, and the addition of Cappy and the capture mechanic was a great step forward; at a time when I personally didn’t think any such step could be made after Galaxy. The levels remind you of the best parts of past Mario titles, while taking you to new, beautiful places each with their own flavor and charm. And at one point, the game literally throws itself a party, and invites you, the player, to take part. The game is inclusive, joyous, and endlessly fun, and it is a near-perfect exercise in how to capitalize on this wave of nostalgia we currently find ourselves in; even when, like me, it’s something you’ve never experienced before.