Metroid Prime 4-The first-person sci-fi game opens with a firefight. As longtime protagonist Samus Aran, an intergalactic bounty hunter, you fly a spaceship (shaped like Samus’ helmet, by the way) into a warzone outside a research facility. Within seconds, you’re blasting enemies with your primary weapon, an energy cannon built into the arm of your spacesuit. You lob barrages of missiles and turn into a somersaulting ball that can drop bombs. At one point, you fight alongside a giant robot Samus, who creates even more explosions. The whole sequence is badass and certainly more like Halo, Killzone, or Titanfall than any Metroid I’ve ever played.
But in short order, Samus loses all of her abilities (aw yeah), is referred to as the “chosen one” by an alien hologram (we’re so back), and is forced to methodically backtrack through labyrinthian environments on a mission to unlock all of those lost abilities (let’s fuckin’ goooo).
Metroid Prime 4, out Dec. 4 for Nintendo Switch and Switch 2, is Nintendo’s swansong for a stacked year, making Samus Aran the third company mascot to receive a dedicated game in 2025 (after Donkey Kong and Kirby). It’s also the culmination of a prolonged, and uncharacteristically public, development cycle. First announced in 2017, Nintendo eventually rebooted Metroid Prime 4 in 2019, citing the project internally fell short of company “standards,” and handed development to Retro Studios, the developer behind the original Metroid Prime trilogy.
Based on an in-person preview session attended by Polygon, Metroid Prime 4 is not just a rehash of Retro’s original run. It’s a tonal divergence, a bit sillier in places, a bit more gruesome in others. But Metroid Prime 4 still plays the series’ greatest hits.
The preview, which was conducted on Switch 2 and covered roughly 90 minutes of Metroid Prime 4, was broken into two segments. The first part covered that aforementioned action sequence. Space Pirates are attacking a Galactic Federation research facility. Samus flies in and shoots a bunch of guys. Pretty straightforward stuff. There are moments, though, where it’s genuinely shocking — Space Pirates bleeding out on the ground, still aiming weapons at Samus like they’re wounded soldiers from the front, knowing the end is near but still fighting for their cause with every waning bit of energy. Samus does what any “hero” in any first-person shooter does.
The second part is far more like traditional Metroid — and far more interesting. After some Big Story Beats that Nintendo has restricted press from talking about, Samus finds herself in Fury Green, a lush jungle on a planet called Viewros. Fury Green is gorgeous, reminiscent of the sci-fi era before art directors collectively decided grayscale was the way things should be. Bulbous purple flowers sprout out from emerald ferns. Amber sunlight peaks through hazy clouds of mist. Vines as thick as anacondas ensconce granite structures tucked into the forest, weathered and clearly ancient. Metroid Prime 4 makes a case purely on the basis of its visuals for being the first game to truly look like a proper Switch 2 game (despite the fact that it’s releasing across generations).
It’s immediately clear that Samus at this stage has lost many of her abilities. At a cliff that’s just out of reach, I try to double-jump. Can’t. I try to fire a missile. Can’t. I try to go into morph ball mode (where Samus turns into pinball and rolls through small openings) and… can! Nice! But I can’t drop any morph ball bombs. It seems the only things I can access are the energy beam arm cannon and the scan visor, an alternate viewing mode that reveals information about surrounding objects.
Like the Metroid Primes of yore, the scan visor quickly becomes the most helpful tool in Metroid Prime 4. Rather than putz around, trying to determine how to solve a puzzle with no obvious solution, information from the scan visor can quickly make it clear that you’re trying to pass an object you’re not meant to pass yet. Plus, it sometimes includes hints about what you need to unlock before you can.
A short ways into Fury Green, I come across a “Lamorn door” that apparently requires the use of a shocking ability to open it, but of course I haven’t unlocked that (yet). I use the visor to reveal a pair of purple-hued, barely opaque platforms that I can’t stand on, though obviously a pair of boots or something will let me stand on them later. I stumble into an amber wall blocking a path, described by the scan visor as something that can be demolished with “explosive force.” Sure wish I had something with explosive force! Like, I don’t know, missiles!!!
A bit more exploring, and I unlock the Psychic Glove upgrade. Music swells dramatically as Samus glows with purple energy. Surely, with the psychically powered fist of an armor suit that’s constructed out of metal strong enough to withstand the pressures of interstellar travel, I will be able to punch down that amber wall.
Ha! Good one.
The Psychic Glove, it turns out, simply lets Samus hold onto previously intangible psychic energy. First, you use the scan visor to reveal psychic motes — small orbs of purple light that look remarkably similar to the small orbs of violet light defeated enemies drop that restore your health. You can then pick those psychic motes up and slot them into conveniently orb-shaped receptacles that happen to be near doors, thus unlocking those doors. Puzzles tied to various locked doors, now solvable through use of the Psychic Glove, open up additional routes through Fury Green, some of which require backtracking to access.
In short order, I come across a Galactic Federation transport vessel suspended above the ground by the jungle’s vines. Here enters Metroid Prime 4’s biggest surprise: Myles MacKenzie, a self-ascribed engineer and a comically bumbling idiot. It is hard to fully convey just how out of place Myles feels in the otherwise stoic Metroid universe, stuck in a fairly benign predicament, waving his arms like a court jester, begging for help but only attracting legitimate trouble in the process. Six-legged creatures with vivid orange exoskeletons and rows of razor teeth soon swarm Myles. He draws a pistol, but drops it like he’s a Looney Toons character. (A slide whistle sound effect is the only thing missing from the scene.) After I eliminate the creatures and rescue Myles, I’m able to lower the ship and access its cargo hold. And guess what’s inside? That’s right!!! Missiles!
That amber wall doesn’t stand a chance.
The rest of the demo plays out in a similar manner. A second major upgrade, Control Beam, does not allow you to assume control of enemies, as its name would suggest; rather, it allows Samus to fire a guided projectile, sort of like the rockets from 007 GoldenEye. The Control Beam adds another wrinkle to puzzles, and opens up pathways that otherwise would not have been accessible — say, by maneuvering it through the crack in a wall to flick a switch behind an otherwise locked door. It’s also necessary for defeating the first boss fight in Fury Green, wherein you’re trapped in a circular chamber with a tentacled mass of spikes named Carvex.
This is the brilliance of Metroid, and of Metroid Prime 4. You learn things, and then you put that knowledge to use, and then you learn more things. You master its lessons without even realizing it. A game is often lavished with praise when its combat is fine-tuned to a tee. The same praise does not always extend to games with well-considered navigation, which by its nature fades into the background, remaining unnoticed until it poses an obstruction for players. What I’ve played of Metroid Prime 4 presents that fine-tuned balance through its winding pathways and past its locked doors — just enough to flummox, not enough to frustrate. The way Metroid Prime 4’s first hour unfolds is a stark reminder: A million imitators can top the charts, but “Metroidvania” has “Metroid” in it for a reason.
