When The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess came out, I bought it immediately, as it was a game that I was looking forward to for a couple of years. I’ve been a die-hard Zelda fan since the NES days and I’ve loved every single game in the series since. Some of my fondest gaming memories come from Ocarina of Time, Link’s Awakening and the more recent Wind Waker.
A strange thing happened while I was playing Twilight Princess, however, that never happened to me with a Zelda game before. I got bored. I got to this prison level and everything suddenly just felt like a chore. I was going through the motions of solving the usual series of well-crafted puzzles but not enjoying any of it. I couldn’t really name anything in particular that was bad about the game; the dungeons were engineered to perfection (a point which will be important later on), the music and atmosphere that I love about Zelda were present. Yet the experience was awful. I couldn’t play anymore.

What happened? Had I suddenly grown out of Zelda? Was the game itself just badly designed? This was the same team that made Majora’s Mask and Wind Waker, so that couldn’t be the answer. For a long time I thought that maybe it was just that the Zelda formula had gone stale, and everything I was doing was just a retread of previous games. That would explain why I was bored with it. This has been a source of near-constant debate between me and and a fellow Zelda fan who can’t seem to understand why I would suddenly not enjoy something that is clearly fun.
Although I think that maybe the series needs a bit of a re-imagining, I don’t think that was why I couldn’t stand it. I think I’ve discovered what the reason is, and it has to do with how the content of a game is built, and it sheds some light on game design in general.
Recently I discovered Spelunky, an indie game I reviewed here. It mixes the procedural, randomly-generated level design of, say, Diablo or the legendary NetHack with vaguely Metroid-ish platforming. The key to this game is the fact that it’s randomly generated every time. Each level is completely different. Sure there are recurring elements that pop up: Golden Idols that trigger a huge rolling boulder when picked up, damsels in distress that need to be carried to the exit, gold and gems to collect, and upgrade items to discover, etc.
What makes it all so fantastic is how unpredictable it can be. I’ll pick up a damsel and be on my way to the exit of a level and come across a Golden Idol; the dilemma being that you can only carry one thing at a time. How do I go about getting both to the exit? Or maybe the Idol-triggered boulder plows through and destroys the platform necessary to get safely to the exit? Then I have to think creatively about how to get there with what’s left. I hated the poison dart traps until I discovered that I could lure bats into them, or throw a rock past it to set it off. I found a teleporter device that could zap me around to different areas in the level, but of course, only while I was carrying it. How can I use it to get a damsel to the exit when I can’t carry both of them at the same time? How do I get through a level if I run out of rope or bombs? Because you never know how all the different elements interact with each other, each game session forces you to think your way around corners.
But Ben, you say, Zelda games force you to do the same thing. That’s what solving puzzles is all about! Ah, but there’s a key difference between the ‘puzzles’ of a game like Zelda or a point-and-click adventure game or Prince of Persia or even Half-Life and the situations that you get into in a game like NetHack or Spelunkey or (occasionally) the Grand Theft Auto games.

When I blow a hole in the floor with a bomb to get into a lower chamber in Spelunky, I did it simply because I was using my problem-solving skills. When I do the same thing in a Zelda game, it was because I figured out that the designers were in some way telling me to do so. When I was a kid, solving a puzzle was immensely satisfying because I really had to wrap my brain around new concepts. Now that I’ve been playing games for over 20 years, I’ve seen so many puzzles and their solutions that I can just about see through them all, and see the skeleton of the designer’s logic wrapped inside. I can see behind the curtain, so to speak, and view the wizard for the man that he really is. I get immediately bored when this happens. I can’t help it.
I don’t mind it so much in, say, Half-Life, one of the most blatantly scripted games in existence because 1) shooting things is inherently fun even when done badly, 2) The combat in Half-Life is actually quite unpredictable and 3) the absolutely incredible atmosphere and story win me over. Half-Life is a game of shooting and cinematic experience. It is not a game of exploration.
When things are randomly built and arranged, I’m forced to think my way through it. I am truly on my own. If a boulder destroys the platform to the exit in a Zelda game, the player is assured that the designers put in something else to get you to that exit, and they think, okay, where is the alternate route they put in? Not so in a game with procedurally generated content. The player has to make an alternate route, and no FAQ or simple game-designer logic can help them.
To me, a game with truly great procedurally generated content brings back the wonder and excitement of exploring new places that I had when I was a kid. This is why I love games.
You could argue against procedurally generated content. You could say that it is difficult to make content that is consistently challenging and interesting, or that nothing randomly generated can come close to the value of a handcrafted scenario, built by a designer. But what some forget when making this argument is that the levels aren’t
completely randomly generated. If that were true it would be a mess. The computer is given certain conditions, laws and materials and content springs out of that. The Earth is merely a set of randomly gathered minerals following the laws of gravity and Newtonian and Einstenian physics and now we have beautiful things like mountains, lakes, a weather system, trees, animals, supermodels, Doritos, Brent Spiner and videogames. Look at the Earth around you and never again underestimate the potential of procedurally generated content.

Spelunky was created by one guy. Imagine what a whole team could do when building an unpredictable system.
There is certainly nothing wrong with handcrafted content. One of my favorite genres, old-style adventure games, is nothing but a series of handcrafted puzzles. And I most certainly don’t believe that procedurally generated content has any place in a Zelda game (maybe a Zelda spin-off…?) If you’re going for something cinematic, like Half-Life or God of War, obviously the content needs to be engineered meticulously so the experience is just right. But I can’t wait for the day when a developer makes a huge-budget exploration and problem-solving game where the world and it’s challenges are procedurally generated.
So what is my conclusion in all of this? I still think Zelda is well-designed and there’s nothing inherently wrong with it. I’m writing this because I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s been bored with most games these days, and I’m convinced that it has nothing to do with older games being better. There were just as many crap games in the old days as there are now, you just don’t remember them as well.
If you find that you have gaming ennui, then this might be the reason. Just keep checking out the new and innovative games and maybe something will grab you and stay with you, like Spelunky did for me.