Mario. The world – gamers and non-gamers alike – knows and loves the squidgy mustachioed face of the world’s most diversely talented plumber. He’s been an adventurer, Dr., brawler, golfer, footballer, cleaner, tennis player, turtle thrower, occasional princess saver (never a plumber) and now an Engineer. Not one of those normal engineers with graphs and wrenches though. But one of those beefcake snowmen Engineers like what crash that ship in Prometheus.
‘Madness!’ ‘Blasphemy!’ Oh no. Read on and discover how the world’s favourite ‘plumber’ is in fact an omnipotent giver of life and granter of death - a god-like figure in space age world – as I unravel the tendrils of truth wrapped mummy like around his supposed first foray into space: Super Mario Galaxy.
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| Those eyes, they scream...murder. |
Ostensibly Super Mario Galaxy is a platformer. Following the sunshiney wonderland of the Gamecube’s aptly named Super Mario Sunshine, Nintendo opted to send their dictatorly mascot and his sense of platforming adventure into space. And so came to pass a game filled with clever gravity-based puzzling garnished with plenty of aesthetically pleasing primary colours, a beautifully sweeping and majestic orchestral score, wacky and memorable characters and gameplay so refined that it would redefine what was meant by ‘platformer’ from there out.
But who really cares about that.
Yes it was a technically good game with visuallydelightful imagery and aurally charming music. But where do technics, visuals and…aurals really matter in a game filled to the blood-gurgling brim with genocidal brutality.
It was with blatantly child-like enthusiasm and gleeful joy that I settled into the cushioned chair of my local cinema to absorb Ridley Scott’s long-gestating Aliensort-of-prequel a few months ago. Despite the many protestations and claims of ‘it isn’t Alien’ it just didn’t matter. Anything even remotely connected to the Alien series is something that I will anticipate with avid fanaticism (including – oh lordy – AvP) and Prometheus was no different. And while it wasn’t quite what I hoped for as a complete package, it was simultaneously so much more. For it was there, as I was serenaded by angelic harmonies and heavenly light, that an epiphany falcon-punched me across the chops: Mario is an Engineer.
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| Question is: who's who? |
Prometheus follows a team of suspiciously ethnically-diverse astro-paleontological-soldiers as they search for the secrets to the origins of life. Without spoiling too much of the gooey narrative centre, the brown-stuff hits the fan as we find out that the Engineers (great big beefy aliens-come-Squidwards) travel from planet to planet both creating life and, apparently when they see fit, taking it away.
Now back to Mario Galaxy. The player must control Mario as he jumps from planet to planet in order to collect power sources to move his magic space machine, all the while killing any indigenous life you find because they are ulterior to your divine quest and therefore evil…
The parallels are uncanny.
Suddenly the whimsical joviality of the game feels like an ominous darkness, the shouts of ‘it’sa me’ echoing like Death’s hollow cry. Darker than dark even, the abundance of colour and merriment plummeting the game in a crevice-darkness, deeper simply because it isn’t rationally, ostensibly there. It’s much the same with clowns: they look so bright, happy and harmless that, when you glimpse the inevitable evil within, they seem all the more Hellish for it.
Playing the game becomes an uncomfortable, morally torturous experience. You’re no longer a valiant hero setting out to save your kidnapped love but a genocidal beast, wiping planet after planet clean of life so that you can grab yourself even more power. Maybe there’s another allegory here then, an investigation into man and his relationship with nature: do you live harmoniously with the lesser creatures over whom you have dominion, or do you simply crush everything – pound their squishy heads into the floor – in the desperate search for more power and energy?
And yet it is absorbing, disturbingly so. Every innocent little creature that minces their way over to you is automatically an enemy, an alien to be destroyed and disposed of. But it is Mario who is the alien. He is the monster and so are you. But you can’t stop yourself. You have to get that next power-star; you must continue human domination over anything that gets in your way. It happens slowly at first but then comes in waves: joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. Joy as you ram the next Goomba back into the ground from whence it came. Joy as you callously use the discarded carcass of that Koopa Troopa to kill his brother. Joy as it all comes together under the warm, fulfilling glow of your next power-star; another trophy to add the pile, dashed by the blood of the fallen.
The light cast across Mario by Prometheus throws sinister and disturbing shadows. Before you know it you have become Mario; yet another mustachioed monster impelled only by the need for destruction and power.
And then there’s the sequel, what’s the story there? Yoshi of course. Cute, loveable, dedicated little companion/chair, Yoshi. But what is he really? A dinosaur. Those adorable, rainbow-coloured plops of loveliness are in fact brutal, barbaric, thoughtless killing machines. Remember Jurassic park? There is no doubt in my completely rational mind that that hellish T-Rex was a real-world incarnation of Yoshi himself. Just look at the dates: Jurrassic Park came out in 1993 and OH, so did Yoshi’s Safari. And what is Jurrasic Park? Only a dinosaur safari. The truth then is painfully clear: Super Mario Galaxy 2 is obviously a coded sneak-peek at Prometheus 2, where the Engineers go back in time to ride dinosaurs into extinction because of reasons.
If this all sounds stupid – or maybe just too real - then I’ll just let you get back to your superhumanly athletic, obese plumber and save his vegetable conjuring, mentally deficient, mushroom princess girlfriend from the grips of his Machiavellian, horrendously mutated, firebreathing satanic death-turtle arch-nemesis while riding atop his egg-defecating, lizard-tongued, flying dino-beast best pal.
Sarcasm.
Due to the prevailing nihilistic, genocidal retribution that this game/ moral torture thrusts upon the unsuspecting soul, it will score:
8 Stalins out of Hitler.
To celebrate it's release on DVD/ Blu-Ray, check out the trailer:
As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.
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