“Castlevania: Symphony of the Night” released almost two decades ago, in 1997. “Super Metroid,” the other game that makes up half of the term “Metroidvania” released in 1994. These games and the genre they helped to create have had an undeniable impact on the games industry. Many, many titles have taken inspiration from (or even “copied the homework” of) one or both. Both series have also continued in their own directions, with both making the jump to 3D (e.g. Castlevania: Lords of Shadow & the Metroid Prime series), and both have produced “throwback” titles that returned to each games’ 2D roots (e.g. Metroid Dread and the handheld Castlevania offerings).
Here are a few comments from critics, as pulled from Metacritic:
- “A mandatory addition to any Castlevania fan’s game library.” (GamePro)
- “Featuring a massive quest filled with RPG elements, mind-blowing 2D backgrounds, fantastic character artwork, an astonishing soundtrack, and some of the best Castlevania gameplay ever seen, SotN is a PS One classic that can’t be missed. (Official U.S. Playstation Magazine)
- “This is exactly what I’m looking for in a 32-bit Castlevania game: great graphics and animation, plenty of way-cool bosses and tight 2D gameplay.” (Electronic Gaming Monthly)
- “Quite possibly the best 2D action side scroller ever.” (GameSpot)
For as much acclaim as both games have received over the decades, however, neither is perfect. I recently replayed “Symphony of the Night,” and a number of issues quickly overcame my uncritical, unconsidered fondness for the game. I will now document a number of them, as well as a few positive surprises, too. Let’s start with the smallest and work our way to the largest critiques I have of the game, shall we?
Minor Quibbles
These are things that I found irritating in the moment, but that were either iterated out in future releases or where the annoyance faded quickly. For example, I found it annoying that while the game includes a fast-travel system, you can’t pick where you’d like to go. Instead, you are forced to cycle through a specific sequence of teleporter rooms every time. While this was annoying in the moment, I eventually got used to it and this issue was solved in later releases. I also didn’t love that you couldn’t sort or otherwise manage your inventory and that you couldn’t sell most of the items in your inventory, either (save the gemstone rings scattered around the castle). Both of these issues were addressed in future releases.
Beyond the aforementioned interface issues, some of the “relics” (aka power-ups) you unlock felt useless. The “force of echo,” which allows Alucard’s echolocation (in bat form) to do damage, is one such example. It’s neat it exists, but I used it once for a giggle and then never again. Also, the water “physics” in the upside-down castle are absolutely awful and I found it hard to fully explore the map as a result. I am listing said physics as only a minor issue, however, because it’s such a small portion of the game that the annoyance faded quickly. In the end, I was still able to achieve a “195%” completion rate once I was done with the game.
Major Concerns
There’s the enemy recycling, aka “mini-boss to standard enemy syndrome.” Symphony of the Night was NOT the first game to do this, but it was still a disappointment. While you could argue that it’s a way to demonstrate the player’s progression, I was still let down because that’s a slot in the rogues’ roster that could have been filled by something more interesting. On the other hand, to the game’s credit, it does this less than some of the other Metroidvanias I’ve played over the years (even compared to future games in the series!).
Speaking of enemy re-coloring and re-use, I have a bone to pick with the, “Frozen Half,” enemy. On one hand, I can appreciate the fact that the depiction of this enemy has changed over time and with the times. On the other hand, I can’t help but give side-eye to a character whose description has historically included “snow shemale” (1993’s “Kid Dracula” for Game Boy), “transvestite ice spirit” (in 2007’s “Dracula X Chronicles” version of SotN) and “new-half ice spirit” in the enemy description of the version I played. I kind of want to give this version of this enemy a pass because it doesn’t seem to be mocking or mean-spirited on its face, but then I see the drawing from the “Kid Dracula / Boku Dracula-kun” instruction booklet and that desire fades instantly (see fan wiki, linked above).
Another point of contention for me was the use, and in some cases, over-reliance on “pest” enemies, especially in the late game / inverted castle. Examples of such enemies include: the Schmoo, the Bitterfly, the Bat, the Ukoback / Gremlin, and the Medusa Head. What is a pest enemy, by the way? I’d describe them as an enemy who has little health and deals minimal damage, but who can disrupt the player through sheer force of numbers or other tricks (e.g. the Bitterfly’s invisibility, the Medusa Head’s ability to petrify the player, the Gremlin’s ability to leave small fires in its wake, etc). Are these enemies inherently bad / flawed game design? Of course not. They can show a character’s progression and add a bit of extra difficulty more subtly than pumping up a monster’s HP or damage. That doesn’t mean that they can’t be over-used or that they aren’t annoying to deal with when passing through a given section of the game for the Nth time, though.
My next criticism comes in the form of a few questions, and they’re directed at folks who have played (and ideally, beaten) the game: “did you figure out how to access the inverted castle without a guide? Did you find your way to the coliseum without assistance? Did you find the “Beryl Circlet” without a walkthrough?” In my mind, each of these questions speak to the increasingly obtuse “puzzles” (for lack of a better term) that the game expects you to solve.
I can give the developers some grace on the first item, because there are pick-ups in the game that point to how to access the inverted castle (the gold and silver ring respectively, which you need to wear in the clock room). How would you find the coliseum (which requires waiting in the clock room for up to a minute for a path to open up) if you didn’t know to look for it, though? It’s possible for the player to stumble on it naturally, of course, but I never did. In my mind, the Beryl Circlet is the worst offender because it requires the player to undergo a series of specific steps that they would never do on accident (pass through a hole in a boulder in wolf form then pass through in reverse in bat form). How could anyone know to do that without a guide? It certainly didn’t come up in the game’s dialogue!
Is more opaque design a bad thing? No, of course not. The Metroidvania genre has exploration as a corner-stone, so it makes total sense that there would be secrets to uncover. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated, though, because there was virtually no sign-posting with regards to the final example. How am I supposed to solve a puzzle that the game never gestures toward?
With regards to the game’s writing, while I appreciated that the game had multiple endings (a bad, good, and “best” ending), I very much rolled my eyes at the fact that the only woman in the game with a speaking role wants to, “save Alucard’s haunted soul.” The trope of a woman saving / taming / redeeming a man is far from new and it’s certainly not unique to Castlevania. It’s hard not to wish for something less tired, however, especially with how little dialogue and character interaction the game has.
Finally, I was annoyed by the poor item drop rate; it was a slog to get some of the game’s best weapons. Then again, perhaps there’s a good reason to not seek these weapons out; I’ll discuss why in my biggest critique of the game.
Possible Dealbreaker
My biggest complaint about the game is, in a phrase, the difficulty curve. In fact, I think it would be more accurate to call the experience a “difficulty rollercoaster.” Why? Some enemies hit like a pebble; this becomes especially common in the late game as Alucard levels up and acquires better gear. Generally speaking, I found stage hazards like spikes did consistently more damage than enemies. For context, I never made it a point to “grind” levels (ie taking steps to increase my level rather than letting it rise naturally with play). Other enemies, by contrast, hit like a truck. They became rarer and rarer as the game went on, but it sure sucked to be blindsided by them when I hadn’t saved in a while.
This issue even affected the final bosses of the game: Shaft (the one who summoned Dracula), Dracula (duh), and Gologoth (trying to usurp Dracula). I beat the first two simply by being a high enough level to ignore most of their attacks and mash through with my own damage. They became even easier after an enemy dropped the “Rune Sword,” which drastically improved my damage output. I can only imagine how much easier the pair would’ve been if I had (arguably) the game’s best weapon, the Crissaegrim, which allows the player to attack with zero recovery time. Woof.
Shaft and Dracula were nothing compared to Gologoth, though. The first few times I challenged him, I stood no chance. His damage output was so great that I was dismissed with the greatest of ease. Once I unlocked the Beryl Amulet, however (which in turn causes lightning damage to heal Alucard), Gologoth was a joke. While he could still damage me with physical attacks, his lightning attacks came out often enough that I was almost always at full health. To make matters worse, the battle took at least 10 minutes; Gologoth just had that much HP! In the end, I didn’t find any of these battles thrilling. Instead, I found myself bored, and Gologoth was the worst offender! Again, this was without any grinding or special tactics on my part (save acquiring the Beryl Circlet for the Gologoth fight).
As with before, you could argue that allowing the player to defeat the final bosses and the “uber-boss” with such ease shows character development and emphasizes how far the player has come. I won’t dismiss that idea out of hand; it’s not like this approach has no value. For my part, though, it left a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t want a capstone experience that will make me tear my hair out, mind you, but I can’t help but feel let down by a boss I can defeat both on my first try and with no more strategy than mashing the attack button (for Shaft and Dracula) or getting a hidden item and then mashing the attack button (for Gologoth).
Bright Spots
It’s not all doom and gloom, though! As such, what are some of the unexpected bright spots I encountered in this most recent play-through? Generally speaking, I didn’t have an issue with item placement. I found I was well-rewarded for exploring every nook and cranny of Dracula’s castle. I also have nothing but positive things to say about the game’s closing song, “I am the Wind,” as composed by Rika Muranaka and Jeff Lorber with lyrics performed by Cynthia Harrell. It’s pure 90s cheese, sax solo and all, and I unironically love it. She also sang the theme song for “Metal Gear Solid 3 – Snake Eater” (titled “Snake Eater”). Excellent.
I was also pleasantly surprised by the amount of customization available to the player with regards to Alucard’s appearance. While his “body” sprite never changes, you can do a lot by mixing up the weapon, shield, and cloak he has equipped. I especially liked how the colors of the cloak could also be seen in Alucard’s bat form. Granted, not all of them are a good match with his black and red base (while I don’t remember its name, the green cape you can equip comes immediately to mind in that regard). The amount of detail put into the game’s shields was also impressive, given that I rarely used them (even if I regularly had them equipped for the defensive stat boost).
The game has a sense of humor I didn’t appreciate when I first played it. When you start the game, Alucard and water are not friends. Touching it will cause consistent damage, and water blocks off a handful of rooms in the game. Alucard eventually overcomes this weakness with a “holy symbol,” acquired about halfway through the game. What is the icon associated with the holy symbol in the game, though? It’s a snorkel. A snorkel! I laughed out loud.
Speaking of secret items gated off by water, the “secret boots” are another such item. What’s the secret, though? They “discretely increase height!” Again, I laughed out loud when I read the item description. The same goes for the item’s effect: it stretches Alucard’s sprite vertically by a small amount, but does not change his hitbox or otherwise change his stats. Excellent.
Conclusion
In the end, I spent around 10 hours with “Symphony of the Night” this time around, though I’m sure that number could’ve been greatly reduced if I had used a guide. Do I think the game is perfect? Nope. Do I think it is a masterpiece that’s worthy of the praise that has been heaped on it over the decades? Pretty much, yes. It (and Super Metroid) laid the foundation for a genre of game that is still going strong today. Even if it is no longer the greatest Metroidvania ever made (“Hollow Knight” and/or “Ori and the Blind Forest” would probably take that crown for many), the fact that it is still in the conversation today is a testament to its enduring legacy and quality. In the end, the fact that I can still get a full weekend of fun out of a game that’s two decades old is something to be celebrated. It’s also a reminder that, even as the “AAA” games industry continuously and repeatedly shits the bed, between indies and classics like Symphony of the Night, we’ll never run out of great games to play.
