Revisiting Skyward Sword – Part 1: Introduction
Revisiting Skyward Sword – Part 1: Introduction
I first reviewed The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword back when it was originally released for the Nintendo Wii in 2011. It was of the first reviews I ever wrote, and its revised version, which was translated to English, can be read here. Back then, I was still young, optimistic, and naïve, believing people were fundamentally good, fascism was a thing of the past, and that Brazilian’s democracy would never be in jeopardy again. More importantly, I was still looking for a direction in life and was about to drop out of Law school to pursue a career in Literature – to my parents’ dismay. I was still grasping with the format of a review and my critical approach to the genre was still acquiring its shape: I knew I had to explain how and why things worked – or didn’t work – instead of just attesting their quality, but I didn’t have the language and the theory to guide, adjust, and help better express my thoughts.
I liked Skyward Sword very much in 2011: I praised the level design of the dungeons, I enjoyed the story and the characters – particularly Zelda’s strong personality –, and I was particularly impressed by the art style, which took into account the Wii’s standard definition to make the blurry backgrounds look like watercolor paintings. Fi’s constant interruptions didn’t bother me too much (it was just annoying, and reminded me of Na’vi) and I found the control scheme fun, even though there were times when it didn’t work properly.
Now with the release of Skyward Sword HD for the Nintendo Switch, I have the opportunity to experience the game with new eyes, after acquiring a degree in Literature and having developed a more critical perspective when it comes to analyzing narrative and structure. Thus, I decided to create this series of articles, which are supposed to offer a sort of “close reading” of the game: a journal of sorts where I record my experiences with Skyward Sword HD while looking closely at how the game functions and is structured.
This first article will cover just the first minutes of the game, analyzing the opening cutscenes.
Introduction
The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword HD starts with two cutscenes and the first one plays even before you can press a button. The game opens with its villain: we see the image of a disfigured horned monster – its crimson hue reminds me of blood – appearing on the screen, surrounded by strange humanoid figures – of the same color – that boast cruel, mocking smiles. Above them, there are spears and swords, indicating their violent nature.
The purpose of this cutscene is to establish the game’s premise and present us to the villains. Such is the tale told: one day, monsters came out of the depths of the world, out of a crack in the ground, wreaking havoc and causing destruction – the drums in the music are perfect here, reinforcing the tension of the words. One image stands out among the rest: a bunch of people screaming, engulfed in flames, with their pained faces turned skyward – as if they were asking the heavens for help. It’s a striking image, one almost too strong for a Zelda game and especially for Skyward Sword, with its pleasant art style: it depicts a place akin to hell. That is, the great use of color in this scene perfectly conveys the chaos, pain, and destruction the monsters caused.
It is said that these creatures came out of the ground, which indicates the existence of an underworld, a place beneath the ground that serves as their home. This establishes a big contrast: while the skies are peaceful, being the domain of a Goddess, the underground is the realm of monsters. Meanwhile, the surface is the battleground where these two forces – good and evil – meet and fight. This a common set-up in religious stories, which put angels coming from the heavens and demons rising from hell to fight on the earthly plane – and interestingly enough the monsters in Skyward Sword are indeed referred to as “demons” in this introduction. That is, the game is using a familiar premise to immediately frame its villains in a repulsive light.
The monster’s motivations are, then, laid out: they want a power that the Goddess protects: “Handed down by the powers of old, this power gave its holder the means to make any desire a reality.” In other words, it grants whoever holds it a wish – and longtime Zelda fans can immediately think of the Triforce. To safeguard this power, the Goddess picked the surviving humans and sent them upwards in a floating rock, placing them safely on the sky, where the demons couldn’t reach them. The other beings, such as the Gorons and the Kikwi, got the short end of the stick and remained to fight the monsters and seal them away.
However, this seal is about to be broken. The second cutscene immediately opens with the earth splitting up once again, promising us that the same pandemonium depicted in the previous scene is going to happen again – a huge black monster even comes out of the ground, roaring angrily above the trees, to stress that.
Then, there’s a shift in the scene, the music soars, and we are suddenly up at the skies, following two birds – a red and a blue one – flying together. They are Link and Zelda’s Lofwings, birds that look like a less-terrifying version of a Shoebill and are linked to their characters’ souls. The first thing we see is both birds flying together, carefree: the connection between Link and Zelda is put at the forefront of the narrative even before they actually appear, while the music marks the shift in tone, going from the ominous tune of the black monster to a soaring, epic track.
We are presented to the game’s central locale, the bucolic town of Skyloft. The camera flies over Skyloft – if you pay close attention, it shows some characters going after Link’s Loftwing, which will lead to the game’s first conflict – and comes down to focus on Zelda. She is singing and playing the harp, aptly standing in front of the statue of the Goddess, which anticipates the connection between the two characters. She gives a letter to her Loftwing for it to deliver it to Link, who is, of course, at home sleeping.
This is a staple in the series – Link is always seen sleeping at the beginning – and this functions as a simple metaphor. Link’s journey is usually a coming-of-age story: he’s waking up in a symbolic sense, having to finally acknowledge and face the problems of the world, being pushed away from his comfortable life. Before the game starts, Link is not yet mature enough, living without a care in the world, oblivious to the woes that afflict the outside world. But it’s finally time for him to wake up, to become an adult, and start to work to help those around him.
A mysterious voice says so in his dream, “Rise, Link. The time has come for you to awaken.” The voice claims that fate has chosen him – linking the protagonist to the “Chosen One” trope – but the dream is interrupted by the arrival of Zelda’s Loftwing, who has absolutely no patience with Link (reflecting Zelda’s stance on his behavior as well, which is a nice touch). The bird screeches to wake him up and literally spits out the letter on Link’s face (the pause that anticipates the bird doing this still makes me cackle).
Zelda’s letter serves two functions. First, it builds Zelda’s relationship with Link. Her words imply familiarity to his behavior – and so indicates it’s an old friendship – and, even though she seems slightly annoyed by Link’s propensity to oversleep, there’s a warmth to her words (“sleepyhead”) that suggests she cares for him and is a bit playful about his behavior.
The second function is to move the plot along and immediately give the player a goal: it informs that today is the Wing Ceremony and that Link has agreed to meet Zelda before it starts. Again, this suggests that she cares for him and wants his presence around her: she wants so much to meet Link that she sends her Loftwing to make sure he’s there. This means that there are already some hints of a romantic relationship visible in the game’s first moments.
And her final words, “You’d better not keep me waiting” point at how she’s not a passive character. She’s not there waiting patiently for Link; she’s bringing him to her almost forcefully and warning him that, for his own sake, he better not let her down.
And so The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword begins.