(Tl;dr video companion for this article):

One must be careful about living too much in their own head, or alternatively, projecting a fictional standard on the everyday, as maintaining a sense of rigid idealism can become quite the Judas Iscariot to any thought process.


Even if one’s expectations are extraordinarily realistic within the realm of rationality

For those of you just joining us, we are waist deep in the Ocarina of Time Remake (OoTR), and as of yesterday, just cleaned up the Forest Temple, as we now make our way back to Death Mountain, with the Fire Temple being next on the agenda. Since we didn’t have time yesterday to stop by Lon Lon Ranch to rescue Epona, now would be the next best time to save our beautiful equine bestie, so that she is free to roam Hyrule Field, and so that we can ride in style to the places we desire. Though it is implied in the original (and this remake, but we already know the history at this point), Link will be able to eventually ride a horse when he grows up, and when the player gets frozen in time and eventually is set free from the Sacred Realm seven years later, it is time to see for ourselves whether these rumors were true, or just misguided delusions of grandeur.


Well I’ll be damned: that kids uncle wasn’t lying…He really must work at Nintendo…

There was obviously no real reason to ever doubt one was going to be able to ride a horse for x, y, and z reasons, but the thought of it always seemed like overzealous heresay, as the essence of the notion always seemed larger than life to be true, and remained one of those got to see it to believe it moments until one’s ass was firmly resting in the respective god damn saddly. Of course, this becomes all the more satisfying, when you do arrive at Lon Lon Ranch, and it has been taken over by Ingo, the eternally grumpy and quite frankly greasy scoundrel of a farm hand, that had such a big chip on his shoulder due to his belief that Talon didn’t do enough, the first moment he got the chance to take over, he did, and then kicked Talon out of the ranch as well. In the process, making Malon’s life miserable, and cozying up to Ganondorf, by selling that swinish warlock the ranches horses, including Epona, who was on the chopping block by the time we arrive. Needless to say, this fascist capitulator needed to get humbled like yesterday.


One can vault with Epona over nearly any part of the fence surrounding Lon Lon Ranch when Ingo locks you in, but why pick any other barrier to jump over when you have the opportunity to dunk on Ingo by flying right over his stupid fucking head?

Though this should come to no surprise to anyone who’s been keeping up with my articles about the Ocarina Remake, for those not in the know, yesterday I outlined how I was starting to lose confidence in the idealistic nature of the remakes supposed 1:1 (ish) conversion, as the longer time goes on and the further into the game we get, the more apparently obvious it becomes that Nintendo may have gone a bit too far in “idiot proofing” this adventure, as almost every aspect of the original that could have been considered somewhat challenging, has been almost entirely smoothed out in the remake, causing a great deal of ire within me. Which, I have thoughts about…in fact, after writing yesterday’s article and reflecting upon the reality of its contents, while pondering other elements of this Remake, I have a myriad of thoughts and considerations to explore. My current mood however, is making it incredibly difficult to focus on writing with any kind of conciseness, so I am stuck in kind of a dazed meandering as far as ideas are concerned.

(To illustrate my point, I grant you exhibit A: I feel like the cat in this picture)

This relates to Epona, as the race against Ingo to rescue her in the original, at least the “rematch” he puts you up to when you beat him the first time, is something I remember as being a genuinely difficult victory to achieve, as it feels as if Ingo is always going just slightly faster than you, and muscling you out the entire time, where as in the remake, the whole scenario barely registered as either a challenge or in any way, shape or form as some kind of a narratively relevant obstacle one was going to have to surmount. It is almost reminiscent of that partially sarcastic turn of phrase related to work that goes something along the lines of “showing up is 90% of getting the work done”, which seems hyperbolic when applied to an actual job, but here in the the remade Hyrule, it kind of seems to be the case, as just being present during some kind of supposed puzzle/combat scenario during this adventure is more or less a guarantee the task is pretty much already taken care of.


I’m somehow surprised that the nine imprisoned Gorons didn’t just instantly manifest right in front of me, by virtue of my mere presence in the vicinity the way this game’s difficulty has been carrying on…

Things don’t really improve upon entering the Fire Temple, as even (maybe?) more so than the Forest Temple, any sense of rigor has been rung out of the structuralism related to the dungeons obstacles, and it almost feels comical how fast you are able to save the Gorons who were just imprisoned not long before you arrived. The mini-bosses, which take the forms of the Flame Dancers, like most other things in the game, are framed quite epically, have a brilliant musical score building them up, and look phenomenal with the remakes new and shiny graphics laid upon the antiquity of Hyrule and all of the denizens that reside within her. However, when one goes to engage with said battle occurring, it feels as if it ends as painlessly as it began. I’d say the same thing is more or less true of Volgagia, the dungeons boss, as well, he just has more health, so it takes only minorly longer to sort the whole thing out.


Again: looks cool, sounds cool, plays…fine, challenging and subsequently satisfying? Well…let’s not be too greedy, now…

So…here’s the thing. There’s something I like to call “Post Launch Blindness”, which is a phrase I usually use to refer to what is essentially a honey moon phase of sorts with new tech or a fresh piece of media. Due to your excitement levels of the shiny new thing, you’re kind of just in love with it, and can’t really see any flaws, as you’re just head over heels about just having it. As time elapses, the fervor dies down, the novelty of the newness wears off, and the more moments you’ve spent with said thing, the easier it is to start to spot the things you don’t like about it. I’m guessing this is what happened with me…and most other people waiting for the Ocarina Remake to come out, especially considering it’s unique status as one of the de facto video game experiences of a millennial gamers youth. How long people stay within this “can do no wrong” state of delusion ranges depending on the individual, and I suppose if one is just ride or die kinds of love, like a dyed in the wool fanboy, perhaps they never come to their senses, but now that I’ve spent enough time with the game, and especially after having some distance from the Young Link sections, where ease of struggle was somewhat permissible as it was the beginning stages of the game, I’m now realizing this complete ease of victory and total absence of challenge is just a chronic issue throughout the entirety of the Ocarina of Time remake.


Don’t be ridiculous, brother: you would have been absolutely fine left alone in that boss room, believe you me

Don’t get me wrong here: this remake is well done in most ways, and it dawned on me that a lot of people are so wrapped up in the emotional content they have shared with this game, it is more about the warmth of nostalgia it makes them feel than anything else, so elements like difficulty level are totally irrelevant to their interests of just getting to revel in the glory days of their young gaming self once again, and possibly getting to share that warmth with their kids and a younger generation. So viewed through that lens of stoking the flames of nostalgia, Nintendo obviously felt it wise not to rock the boat by tweaking some rough spots to avoid impeding the players with any sort of barrier to their hearts desire.


If you have access to any “get your ass kicked hard spells”, I’d really appreciate you casting that on me, cause it’s been an absolutely brutal cake walk of a journey so far

I’m only left with the question of whether or not I’m the only one who feels that part of the authenticity of the memory is the inherent struggle attached to the experience, and isn’t the effort to overcome that same adversity part of the satisfaction that made the game special in the first place?

I’m genuinely curious.

~Pashford