To this day, I consider the Gamecube Nintendo's most experimental system, at least when it
comes to its library.
While consoles like the Nintendo 64 and Wii were blatantly unique in their design, introducing
some very surprising and unusual controllers, the Gamecube managed to show experimentalism
on a game design level.
Zelda went cel shading instead of dramatic realism, Metroid dove into first-person…hell,
even Mario himself took things into a more interlinked and contiguous direction in his
own debut.
With the Gamecube, Nintendo's properties were beginning to step into unfamiliar territory,
but Nintendo themselves were leading the charge from day 1.
What had grown to be a launch day tradition, a Mario platformer to go with a shiny new
console, had an unlikely stand-in in its place.
An Italian plumber didn't make his debut on the Gamecube with an enthusiastic leap
out of a warp pipe, but a timid, nervous "hello?"
Luigi's Mansion was the first game I got for the Gamecube in 2001.
Bitter over my local Wal-mart selling out of Super Smash Bros. Melee, I settled for
this unusual game, solely because Luigi was a generally familiar figure to me.
I had no knowledge of Wave Race and Pikmin was something new I had never heard of before,
so…it was Luigi's Mansion that I stuck with.
To my surprise, this bizarre little "tech demo turned launch title" was one rich with interesting puzzles and
honed adventure gameplay.
Luigi's Mansion, despite how different it is from a typical Mario title, is a pretty
simple game.
Mario goes missing, Luigi wins a mansion in a contest he never entered, and ghosts have
overtaken the premises.
Luigi meets Professor E. Gadd and learns to use his Poltergust 3000, a suspiciously familiar
vacuum pack that Luigi can use to suck up ghosts.
E. Gadd also details the missing Portrait Ghosts, stronger spirits that escaped E. Gadd's
facilities and entered the mansion.
It's up to Luigi to find the Portrait ghosts, discover the mansion's secrets, and rescue
his brother.
Luigi's journey through the haunted halls of the mansion feels pretty familiar for a
game themed around ghosts and the supernatural.
In a way, Luigi's Mansion feels like Nintendo's answer to the mansion-crawling horror genre
that had risen in popularity with games like Capcom's Resident Evil.
The creeping darkness and oppressive atmosphere are all there.
Even the detailed animation of Luigi grabbing a doorknob mirrors the door-opening cinematic
of Capcom's acclaimed series.
It does seem weird to call Luigi's Mansion a horror game, because it's actually very
different from the Resident Evils and Silent Hills of the age, but aesthetically, is difficult
to argue otherwise.
From its eerie lighting effects and almost realistic environment design, Luigi's Mansion
adopts plenty of presentation elements (and even tropes) from the genre.
Of course, it doesn't do everything in a horror-esque way.
The Poltergust 3000, Luigi's main weapon against the non-living, is a pretty odd ghost-catching
tool (well, for anyone who hasn't seen Ghostbusters).
Luigi must suck the ghosts up with the Poltergust, but not before stunning them with the light
from his flashlight, so it's a dynamic little back-and-forth that can make tackling ghosts
a slightly more complex affair than you might think.
The rapid tug-o-war after you activate the Poltergust on a ghost mirrors reeling in a
fish with a fishing rod, quickly adjusting your angle while also forcefully pulling back
on the control stick.
They're intense moments that act as culminations to the escalating tension of wandering the
dark hallways.
The payoff is definitely satiating, capped off by treasure appearing in view to buff
Luigi's bank account, along with potentially opening new areas of the mansion to explore.
From a pacing perspective, they work very well, and can even make more rudimentary ghost
challenges into something pretty damn satisfying.
Exploring the halls of the mansion takes up a majority of the player's time, but these
are easily the best moments of the entire game.
Each room has its own quirks, usually in well-designed, but accessible puzzle structure.
There's an intuition to Luigi's toolset and how it can be used to interact with the
environment.
Blowing out candles by using the suction from the Poltergust, spraying water on a plant
seed for it to grow, or even just tapping on a bookcase can lead to both treasure to
collect and direct confrontation with the ghouls of the mansion.
The rooms are also pretty different from each other, so there's all the more reason to
keep your eyes open for items or furniture that can be used.
Even things like chandeliers on the rooms' ceiling can be interacted with, if you notice
them, along with hidden passageways that can lead to entirely different areas.
The attention to detail in Luigi's Mansion does so much to sell the game's world building,
and it brings the environments to life in such a subdued, but very attentive way.
But, from a design perspective, Luigi's Mansion doesn't tread much unfamiliar territory.
It's a relatively linear game, and while there are optional ghosts that can offer ample
cash rewards, there aren't too many detours throughout.
Some ghosts can be damaged by elemental bursts, some ghosts have puzzles that require multiple
rooms to complete; not too many of these twists really set the bar in terms of adventure game
design.
Earning money is a cool incentive, and the game does give a ranking at the end of the
story highlighting how much cash you grabbed, but despite this system, multiple playthroughs
aren't really encouraged.
Luigi's Mansion is, sadly, a straight-forward game that I think could've used a bit more
open-endedness to make the mansion feel as oppressive and labyrinthine as a haunted mansion
can feel.
There isn't too much variety beyond the claustrophobic design.
Well…there are the Boos.
Boos are a topic of contention for me, because they don't really act as sources of atmosphere
or even interesting game design.
While looking for them with the Game Boy Horror's radar, it's pretty cool to hunt around items
in a room, but with Boos having the ability to cross over into other rooms through the
walls, it quickly drains away any anxiety the game has.
It devolves into a mindless scavenger hunt, especially when it involves rooms that aren't
directly linked with a door or passage.
For what it's worth, it would really be weird if Nintendo didn't include Boos in
a game featuring Luigi and a haunted mansion, but the way the Boos were implemented feels
mishandled, and with 50 of them to find, it can get a bit tiring, even if the mansion
has a surprisingly small amount of backtracking to it.
But the parts that really stand out in Luigi's Mansion aren't the intense tug-o-wars with
Portrait Ghosts or chasing Boos from room to room.
It's those more subdued moments, where the game can really revel in its suspense.
THAT is Luigi's Mansion at its absolute best.
When a room or floor is free of ghosts, the lights turn on and Luigi walks with a perky
step throughout, even going so far as to cheerfully whistle the musical theme of the game.
Contrast this to when the floor's hallway is still dark and haunted; Luigi hums nervously
and the ambient sound is drowned out by loud, imposing music.
But in a dark ROOM, the music is often produced much more subtly, lowered in volume, creating
a thick atmosphere of nervous anticipation.
This is brilliant, because most of the setpieces occur in these dark rooms.
The puzzles require you to examine the room and understand what could possibly be interacted
with to solve them, so there's an ominous nature to it all, forcing the player to look
closely, unknowing of what could happen next.
But if there's one place where the suspense is at its highest mark, it's in the Portrait
Ghost sections.
A pretty sizable number of these sections begin with simply observing the ghosts'
behavior and finding out how to capture them.
The ghosts go about whatever business they're doing at the time and some don't even acknowledge
Luigi at all.
Between the Portrait Ghosts' autonomous actions and their almost mannequin-like visual
design, these initial moments of observation are rich with suspense.
There's something truly unsettling with the ghosts just existing so silently, like
they're a piece of the background, only acting when Luigi performs a specific
confrontational action like using the Poltergust or even just interacting with the environment.
Despite years of genre-defining horror titles since the game's release, these ice-cold
moments of pristine suspense still manage to unsettle.
You can cut the atmosphere with a knife.
And I think this couldn't have been pulled off as potently without Nintendo making this
an all-ages game.
Nintendo could've made this even darker to match the game's more violent and adult-focused
peers, but they didn't.
Instead, Luigi's Mansion is intentionally playful.
It doesn't take itself nearly as seriously as any other horror game does.
This silliness and whimsy make the game feel unpredictable and unhinged in its tone.
It's a Pandora's Box, like an empty house that a kid might pass on their walk to school
or an abandoned carnival whose once-lively attractions are shut down.
It's not something life-threatening or heart-attack-inducing, but it is unsettling, and in most
cases, that can be so much more interesting than a jumpscare could ever be.
For all I've criticized about the Boos from a game design perspective, they do fit the
tone of Luigi's Mansion.
They're spontaneous and teasing; Luigi's Mansion's aesthetic and location feel as if
Nintendo made an entire game around the concept of a Ghost House from Super Mario
World.
And very much like in that game, the world is rich with confusion and unpredictability.
Rooms can appear in off-kilter states, Portrait Ghosts appear in and out of vision depending
on what Luigi is doing…Luigi's Mansion occupies such a unique horror space, one that
feels both scary and provoking at the same time.
It's not an "I'm afraid for my life" horror.
It's a "what in the world is going on?
I need to find out" horror.
Luigi's Mansion is such a curious game, one rocking back and forth between thick,
lingering suspense and mischievous playfulness.
But it does this with a spring in its step; instead of keeping the moods separated by
pacing, it subtly blends them into one of the most original horror experiences I've
seen in ages.
Sure, it doesn't have many moments of explicit, heart-pounding horror, but it never needed
that.
Instead, the ambiance is so calculated and visceral, that the nimble trickery is able
to sneak in almost undetected.
What's left is a game that simply couldn't compare to anything Mario's face was on.
It's an original experience, one that was destined to be a cult classic to Nintendo
fans and video game fans alike.
Is it flawless?
No, it's not, but it has its place, made clear as day with Nintendo's enthusiasm
to keep this franchise going.
Luigi's Mansion is a horror game, one untouchable by peers and even influences.
Beneath its cartoony playfulness lies a concentrated, totally suspenseful endeavor that, to this
day, has yet to be successfully duplicated.
Happy Halloween, everyone.
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