The Legend of Zelda Part 1: Save state. Die. Load state. Die. Load state...

When you start up the Legend of Zelda, either on your NES or your emulator, you're greeted with the eternally nostalgic Legend of Zelda theme and (in my opinion) quite a lovely start screen (for 1986) showing a picture of the Triforce of Wisdom and the White Sword (the second sword you get in the game.)

Notice that, unlike the more modern Zelda games, there's no Master Sword in sight - the White Sword looks more like a sabre than the traditional longsword we're used to seeing Link with.

Anyway, I like watching the intro sequences to games, so I decide to hold off on pressing the start button for now. After a few seconds, the screen goes dark and the player is presented with what might just be the most inelegant translation I've ever seen. (I particularly like the random quotation marks. "Link"! Go "save" Zelda from the "evil" "Gannon!")

...Well, that does sound like an epic quest. How could I possibly say no? I'm off to retrieve Zelda's units with Wisdom!

After you press start, you're greeted with the usual "enter your name here" screen with three save slots. If you've ever played another Zelda game in your life, you'll know what I mean. It's not interesting or pretty to look at, so I'm going to skip right into the meat of the game.

Basically, about 90% of this game is spent wandering around the impossible-to-navigate overworld map, either A: trying to dodge enemies with half a heart left and subsequently dying, or B: charging into the fray with berserker fury, praying one of the fifteen Octoroks on the screen will drop a heart so you can avoid situation A. (Most of the time, they don't.) The aim of this is to find the eight monstrously terrible dungeons scattered around the map, along with a few shops and other secrets liberally sprinkled around.

The other 10% is spent inside said infuriatingly confusing and repetitive dungeons presented in a series of monochromatic color schemes. All the dungeons share the same piece of music, about 15 seconds long, which repeats ad nauseum. These two combined factors make most of the challenge really involve making it to the end of the dungeon before your brain starts leaking out of your ears.

There are puzzles of a sort in that you're often left running back and forth between nearly identical rooms wondering where in God's name the next key is, but mostly the aim of the game is the same as when you're outside - survive long enough to make it to the boss.

Fortunately, most of the bosses are easy enough to beat - the boss of the third "level" (as they call dungeons in this game) can be killed in one hit by strategic bomb placement. They tend to be a bit of a letdown on the whole after the hardship you endure fighting your way through the dungeon, though, and the limitations of the NES make boss fights less than inspiring. We're not even given a change of tune to mark the occasion, so the only indication you have that you're about to fight the boss of the level is a "roaring" sound effect you can hear in the room immediately before the boss level.

Plus, they never look very intimidating - check out Dodongo, the boss of the second level, above. His little stubby legs make him more cute than scary, which is just disappointing after all that work. Seems to be a trend with this game.

After you defeat the boss, the next room always has the same layout regardless of the level, as you can see to the left. The only thing in there is the level's Triforce piece, and when you collect it you're restored to full health (an absolute blessing in this game, trust me) and kicked out of the dungeon with no direction as to where you're supposed to go from there. Thanks, Nintendo.

I've only played the first four levels so far (half of the game), and I think I should say here that I would consider this game completely unplayable if I wasn't doing so on an emulator. (Don't worry, boys and girls - I own a legal copy.) The tears and frustration our gaming ancestors would have had to endure to beat this game are absolutely unfathomable; almost as unfathomable as why in God's name this game was ever blessed with any sequels at all.

Giving credit where credit is due, though, this game was completely revolutionary when it came out. It was the first game to include a battery-powered save feature instead of the password system which was previously popular. Zelda opened the door to the heyday of the console RPG in the 90s. For the time it was released, it was incredibly complex and detailed - nobody had ever thought of hidden keys or caves which could only be revealed if you bombed the right wall, and the amount of little secrets in the game meant you could virtually play it forever. It was a beautiful game by 1986's standards, graphically.

Still, that doesn't mean I have to like playing it.

Next post, the THRILLING CONCLUSION of Zelda I, plus my final review of the first game in the series.