Feature By

Dale Weir

There was a time when hardware or software unveilings from Nintendo at any of the myriad videogame industry trade shows over the years brought the industry to a standstill. Fans, members of the media (the mainstream press, gaming press and fanboy press) and competition alike gathered enthusiastically for a glimpse of whatever piece of magic Nintendo had cooked up from behind the hallowed walls of its Kyoto-based development studios. It was common knowledge that whatever was shown or simply spoken of would have everyone talking for the rest of the year and possibly for years to come. That was the level of influence in the hands of the Redmond giant. Of course it should go without saying that when I say Nintendo, what I really mean is Shigeru Miyamoto.

Shigeru Miyamoto and his development team at EAD (Entertainment, Analysis and Development) were the innovators in the industry. Boasting such highly vaunted videogame classics as Donkey Kong, the Super Mario Bros. trilogy, The Legend of Zelda and Super Mario Kart, Miyamoto is largely responsible for Nintendo's meteoric rise after the industry crash of the 1980s. And he has also been one of the more prolific evangelists of the Nintendo mantra, hardware and software. One only has to look back to 1996, when he unveiled what would be both Nintendo's opening salvo into the realm of 3D and a defining moment for the industry, Super Mario 64; two years later, when he debuted what has been almost universally credited as his magnum opus, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time; or in 2001, when he demonstrated to throngs in attendance at the Electronic Entertainment Expo what could be done on the Nintendo GameCube hardware.

But that seems like a very long time ago. Miyamoto (and his development team) have seemed to hit a wall. Nintendo's most recent works, Super Mario Sunshine, The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker and even Pikmin have not been as well-received by attendees at the most recent Electronic Entertainment Expos—some actually viewed Wind Waker to be a slap in the face of fans—and this hesitance has been reflected in mediocre sales at retail. Large crowds still flock to where ever Miyamoto speaks, but it would seem that some of that legendary magic is done; the once pristine name and reputation is somewhat tarnished.

In the meantime, other developers have been stepping up and one designer in particular, Hideo Kojima, has attained enough stature to put him on or close to the level that previously only belonged to Miyamoto. What's unusual here is that this mostly resulting from the release of two games, Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty. Admittedly, Kojima has been in the development arena for a very long time, but it is these PlayStation and PlayStation 2 releases that have catapulted him to revered status. It is previews of these games that draw show attendees. It's these games that define and redefine their genre. It's these games that dominate industry buzz and pre-release hype. It's these games that have everyone talking. And going by sales figures, it's these games that consumers are dying to play.

Metal Gear Solid was what we would now call a stealth game. Solely the realm of obscure PC titles, stealth in a console game was a rarity given the perceived demographic of console gamers at the time. But Kojima and his team looked past that and set out to create a completely new experience for PlayStation owners—one that would overwhelm with its groundbreaking presentation and recreate an entire genre. Metal Gear Solid was quite literally made for the PlayStation. Its 3D graphics aside, it boasted high quality audio, excellent voice-acting, a deep story with plenty of twists told through excellently choreographed cutscenes, the control scheme was mapped perfectly for the Dual Shock and the game even took advantage of the vibration feature. Metal Gear Solid was the right game at the right time to demonstrate what types of new playing experiences were available as well as pushing the PlayStation to levels never reached before.

In 2001 when Sony needed a reason, the reason, for consumers to pick up their new PlayStation 2 beyond impressive technical demos and exaggerated performance specs, it shocked no one that it turned to Kojima. And Kojima delivered. After its unveiling at the Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3) 2001, it was clear to everyone that the PlayStation 2 would be capable of extraordinary things. Graphically, conceptually, aurally and in every other measurable area, Metal Gear Solid 2 was on another level, standing head and shoulders above everything at the show—even products from Sony's first-party development teams, and most games that have launched since. What's truly impressive is that expectations were already through the roof prior to Metal Gear Solid 2's unveiling. But more importantly, it was inescapable proof that Kojima was a game designer to be reckoned with.

With his previous two works, Kojima proved he knew how to create new playing experiences that fans and critics would love and that he could tame the hardware and make it do his bidding. In what he promises will be his farewell to the Metal Gear Solid series, Kojima is looking to surprise gamers again and show that he is deserving of the adoration once leveled at Shigeru Miyamoto. We don't know much about Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater, but what we do know is quite intriguing. So much so that it was a big winner in our inaugural E3 Hype-Worthy Awards walking away with Hype-Worthy Blue Ribbon Selection and Best of Show – Non-Playable.

Over the next few pages I hope to explain why this latest Metal Gear Solid could be the best one yet and why Hideo Kojima could possibly be the greatest designer of our time.