Breath of the Wild May Have Ruined Zelda for Me

I’ve loved The Legend of Zelda series since I was a wee, elementary school-aged lad. As a ’90s kid, my first experience with the series came later than older gamers who may have fallen in love with it while playing A Link to the Past or, even further back, perhaps the first entry in the series, The Legend of Zelda.

No, my first taste of the series came when I played Ocarina of Time on the Nintendo 64. I vividly remember where I was when I first played it, but it requires some explanation: I had an extreme aversion to salon haircuts when I was younger, even having a full-on meltdown in the middle of the salon when sprayed with water, surely mortifying my parents. So, they did what any desperate parents in child, haircut crisis would do: they took me to Cool Cuts.

Cool Cuts is essentially a salon for children in the way Sports Clips tries to be for men.  It was designed to be a whimsical place for kids: bright colors exploded forth from every direction (much like an elementary school classroom), chairs were shaped in the form of various cars, and, most importantly, there were video games to entertain the children patrons.

It was within the magical confines of this mystical domain, protected by the safety of my car chair, that my hands grasped the Nintendo 64 controller entrusted to me by the faithful hairstylist, and I dove into Link’s world full of wonder, fairies, and some overprotective Kokiri kid. I was immediately enthralled by the game and engrossed in the world it transported me to.

While I had no idea what I was doing that first time around, I loved being able to simply explore Kokiri Forest as Link and imagine what it was like to be in this world (which I would come to learn was Hyrule). Unfortunately, my time in the salon was as short as the haircut I was getting, so I never made it too deep into Kokiri Forest — not even to the Deku Tree. Nevertheless, it had stolen a place in my heart.

Eventually, I got a Nintendo 64 of my own, and, of course, it came with Ocarina of Time. Thus, my true love for the Zelda series began as I delved deeper and deeper into Hyrule to complete the whole game (although, as a young child, that took much longer than it would today). Since then, I have tried to play every Zelda game I could, even going so far as to attempt to play all of them during my college years (only to be stopped short when I couldn’t find a way to get ahold of Wind Waker). So, I’ve played many of the games from the original series, including but not limited to:

What I dearly loved about the series was exploring all the different locations of whichever game I was in (whether it was Hyrule, Termina, or anywhere on Link’s adventures), learning about the people or creatures of the current area I was exploring, discovering what their problems were, and assisting them with their problems (or even side problems). This would inevitably lead to a dungeon full of intricate puzzles that could be quite tricky to figure out — something that, in my mind, was a reward in and of itself to complete.

On top of this general game loop, I enjoyed gaining more equipment as I progressed, which not only helped me beat the current level I was on, but also allowed for more options of exploration and action in the world at large. These weren’t just generic items but well-crafted game mechanics with specific purposes.

The pinnacle of this formula, for me personally, was actually in the title that came after Ocarina of Time, and that was Majora’s Mask. I didn’t come to enjoy this title as much as I do now until later in adulthood, but it is now the top Zelda game for me and a contender for my favorite game of all time.

The world of Termina is so rich and deep compared to other entries in the series, and this depth wasn't necessarily on the immediate surface but you had to dig for it like gold while playing the game, learning more about the inhabitants of termina and the ultimate themes of the game. While the geography itself isn’t all that expansive, the inhabitants and themes presented here have much more depth than is first apparent — especially for a Zelda game. Some characters are even grappling significantly with death and grief, which is in stark contrast both to the outward appearance of Majora’s Mask and thematically to most other light-hearted Zelda games in the series.

Many of the individual characters also had stories you could follow and interact with to help them along their journey. Some of these were related to the main story, but many were not. A few side quests were even more intricate and time-consuming than parts of the main story. And, because the game was set within a time loop, you had to go through multiple loops to get the full picture of everything happening. The time loop mechanic was brilliantly implemented, although people either loved it or hated it, allowing each character to follow a set schedule, making them feel more real. All of this added to the game’s overall depth.

On top of all this, the mechanics and items of the game were intricate and well thought out. Specifically, the mask system, where you would take on the form of other species by donning their masks, unlocking new game mechanics, and using the mechanics to explore the world and complete dungeons, was jaw-dropping to me — especially being able to swim around as a Zora. All of the items and masks in the game had a specific purpose that you needed to learn and then use appropriately.

I could gush on and on about my love and awe for this game, but for the purposes of this writing, the main point is that I loved the deepness and richness of the theme, locations, characters, dungeons, and mechanics — while the game still left enough ambiguity to fill in my own imaginative gaps with lore (I mean, is Link actually dead the whole game, who knows?!).

Those feelings around Zelda never really left me, even up to Skyward Sword. So, keeping all that in mind, Nintendo eventually announces a newer, bigger, better game to end all games in the Zelda series. At the time, there was no title, and this was announced before the Switch, so it was expected to be on the Wii U — giving it a more ethereal feeling, less concrete.

This announcement stirred up rumors, such as the new game’s Forest Temple being the size of Hyrule Field from Ocarina of Time (in retrospect, the question is now “What Forest Temple?”), that the game was inspired by The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, and that this new Zelda game would be very different from previous ones.

While these rumors created some apprehension — as any announcement of drastically changing something you love would — I was more excited than Beedle on a bug farm, especially about the speculation that it could be inspired by Skyrim. After all, what game is more deep than an Elder Scrolls game? Note: unfortunately for me, it turned out that the Skyrim rumor was a misinterpretation of what Aonuma said in an interview, though I wouldn’t learn that until after playing this new entry.

I waited patiently for years, as all Zelda fans do, until Nintendo announced not only a new Zelda game but a new console! So we now have the new, improved Nintendo Switch and a new Zelda title called Breath of the Wild. My excitement could hardly be contained as I counted down the days for each release.

When the day finally came, my girlfriend at the time, now wife, knew my obsession, so she did the most wonderful thing ever: she bought a Switch on opening day along with the game so I could play.

I set up the Switch and was mesmerized — it is still, to this day, my gaming hardware of choice. After admiring the beauty of the half-console, half-handheld machine, I inserted the Breath of the Wild cartridge and began the journey my heart had been longing for. I was not disappointed by what I was greeted with… initially. What was immediately apparent about this game was not the depth I was desiring in a Zelda game, but the breadth.

And, don’t get me wrong, the breadth was beautiful — captivating, even. After getting through the tutorial, the amount of freedom allowed was breathtaking, pun intended. Being able to roam Hyrule and explore all the areas at my own pace was enticing. The idea that if I could see something I could go to it, as long as I had the means, was a change of pace that kept me engaged early on. For my first few hours, I was completely captivated by the game: exploring areas, finding new equipment, defeating more Bokoblins than can be counted — all the fun stuff.

The more I played, though, the more the novelty of the sheer breadth gave way to a feeling of… barrenness. For a game as large and sprawling as Breath of the Wild, I would have much rather been in a densely populated Hyrule, not a ruined one. The little civilization I could find was sparse, and most of the inhabitants only had surface-level interactions. While the combat and exploration were enjoyable, I continued to feel more and more like I was traversing a wasteland with almost no real depth to it. And this isn’t really contested, even by the staunchest proponents of the game; the story is not all that intricate or nuanced.

To be fair, the main story of most Zelda games isn’t that deep, even if what you do along the way can have more depth. But, with the claims of a Zelda game that would subvert the expectations of recent entries, I was hoping they would improve on the emotional depth of the story and characters rather than increase the physical breadth of what you can do and explore. I wanted them to dig deeper instead of spreading wider. I’m not at all opposed to a bigger Hyrule to explore, but it doesn’t hold my interest if I don’t enjoy what I’m actually doing in that vast landscape.

After exploring a large portion of the land and defeating my millionth Bokoblin, I did not feel all that invested in the world or in saving it. It was already pretty broken, and the people seemed to be doing mostly fine, despite their circumstances. While there were some towns I enjoyed exploring and felt were a little more lively, such as Gerudo Town, by and large, there wasn't much to do in any of them.

This was only exacerbated by still believing the game was meant to be inspired by an Elder Scrolls game, even though I would later find out that was not correct. In an Elder Scrolls game, there is a main story that unfolds as you play and learn more, but you can get completely pulled to the side with quests and side characters as you explore the world. The common people have their own concerns while you go on your quest. The lore and culture are well thought out between each settlement, and you can interact with the majority of it. You can learn more about the characters and their struggles, help them or not help them, and change things as you progress.

While this is obviously a tall order, and I certainly didn’t expect the depth of an Elder Scrolls game, I was hoping that with a Zelda game trying to change the typical formula, we would have a Hyrule full of life, with inhabitants who actually have things they care about and are doing, things that you can assist or work against. I wanted tiny pockets of the world you could get lost in and towns with politics and opposing factions to align with or oppose. These were the things I hoped for with a Zelda game shaking things up. Instead, I got one-dimensional characters in a one-dimensional story — just bigger, literally. While there was certainly more, it was just more of the things I didn’t care about instead of what I really wished they’d improved.

Okay, so the game didn’t meet my expectations — so what? Readjust them and move on. This is at least what I tried to do. And again, for what the game is trying to achieve, it does it very well. But, to add insult to injury, all the other components of the game I enjoyed fell flat, too.

Instead of thematic dungeons with an intelligent design, we got bland, similar dungeons that felt tacked on. The shrines were supposed to help with this, but they ended up being all too repetitive; they all felt the same, were short, and didn’t serve the story much. None of these scratched the usual itch that dungeons from previous games would.

The new weapons system was a travesty. Instead of having well-thought-out equipment that unlocked specific mechanics, you’d just find an abundance of tools and weapons to use as you saw fit, but it felt far less rewarding. On top of that, with very rare exception, everything you obtained could break! This made the items I already didn’t enjoy as much even less enjoyable, since they’d eventually be gone. It was an interesting shift, but I would have much preferred a system that allowed for repairs, so I could always repair my best items but still have to manage how low they were on wear, making sure they didn’t break unexpectedly. That would have made acquiring powerful items feel rewarding and allowed me to manage my items more thoughtfully.

Lastly, there was no main gameplay element that made it stand out like previous entries:

I get that the exploration and different ways you could traverse were meant to be the groundbreaking gameplay changes, but this didn’t feel as substantial, from a story or gameplay perspective, as it just expanded on something you normally do in Zelda games, travel, rather than being something new and specific to this game.

All of these factors, combined with my initial unmet expectations, left me feeling left down overall. Breath of the Wild is a good game in its own right, and had it not been part of the Zelda series, I might have enjoyed it more. But, because I have such strong emotional ties to the series and already have certain expectations, it fell flat for me.

Now, just because I have expectations for a game based on previous entries doesn’t mean the developers can’t create whatever they want with it — it’s their game, obviously. It would take an entirely different article to explore how nostalgia and preconceived notions affect our interactions with the media we love, but I can’t separate myself from my own nostalgia and expectations, either. I can objectively look at Breath of the Wild, understand that it’s a phenomenal feat that many adore, recognize it as a well-crafted game — while realizing it just isn’t a well-crafted “Zelda” game to me.

Alright, it’s just one entry in the series, so what? Not every game can be a “banger,” and there are bound to be some that don’t resonate with me — or are flat-out duds. I can accept this one for what it is and move on, right? Then enters Tears of the Kingdom. Dreaded, awful, terrible, unbearable Tears of the Kingdom. Truly, this game was just Breath of the Wild 2.0. I waited six years for another Zelda game after Breath of the Wild and was rewarded with a near replica that had a cool, new glove and physics system. Fantastic. Still no real depth, no characters to resonate with — just cool mechanics (which, to be fair, I am still impressed with; there are some amazing things built with the system). The Sky Islands and the Depths both felt slapped together and unmemorable. By the 20th time I had to help the same guy put up the same sign for the same company, I just about wanted to cut down all his signs myself.

This piece is already getting too long and unwieldy, so I won’t go into all the details of my dislike for Tears of the Kingdom but, suffice to say, I didn’t play too long before I put it down and was extremely disappointed.

More than my disappointment with the game, though, was the realization that this is the direction the Zelda series seems to be heading. I feel like I’m in the minority of players today and am out of step with what fans want from the series.

Even after Tears of the Kingdom, we got Echoes of Wisdom, which at first seemed exciting — finally, playing as the titular character of the Zelda series! But I was immediately apprehensive after I saw the trailer. Traversing the land and overcoming obstacles by creating versions of things you’ve seen before — such as stacking beds to get up a ledge or crossing expanses on a bridge made of chairs? Nothing thematically related or thought out — just whatever you throw together in the moment.

Now, I will admit, I was so apprehensive that I never picked it up… well, that, and my backlog is near never-ending. So, I can be convinced otherwise if my first impression was off. But, either way, it just goes to show how deeply I feel disconnected from the current state of the series. I feel like the Zelda series is now just a distant memory from the past — a part of my youth that crept into my heart but is now unrecognizable to me.

My one glimmer of hope is that, while Breath of the Wild was universally acclaimed, many expressed their disappointment with Tears of the Kingdom for being so similar to its predecessor, as if to say, “One is enough. Quit while you’re ahead, and don’t overdo what we already consider a masterpiece.” This still won’t cause me to hold my breath, though, as it seems the entire DNA of what it means to be a Zelda game has changed permanently. While there may still be a tiny glimmer of hope that what I dearly love about Zelda games from a bygone era might come back, for now, I’ll have to look to the classics and other series for the depth I desire.