Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is often considered to be one of the crowning jewels of gaming, so beloved that, to many, landing second place in a vote of the best game ever created was an unfair understatement of the 1998 title's greatness. In a world where such a vast majority still tout the game as a masterpiece, reviewing it may seem pointless, but it is because of the prevalence of this almost dogmatic love for Ocarina that taking another look at it is important, if a little blasphemous. Is Ocarina of Time really a masterpiece? There are certainly some things to criticize behind this curtain of unquestioning faith.
When I began replaying it, Ocarina was far from disappointing, but it certainly didn't live up to the grandeur of my childhood memories and its fame. My biggest qualm with Ocarina -- other than the camera angles, which I can only hope were better in Ocarina of Time 3D than in Collector's Edition -- is that it is downright tedious at times. Challenges are an important element of any game, but players can only take so much before wanting to quit. Ocarina is chock-full of moments where the only option is to run around aimlessly in search of answers or, if a player knows what to do next, to wait around to progress. Consider how long it takes for one Skulltula to spin around and become open to injury, or how almost random the chain of events leading to finding Ruto's letter in a bottle is, or how frustrating getting into the shadow temple is if you don't already have Din's Fire (and maybe don't know it exists). Consider, also, Kaepora Gaebora. Though he is revealed later to be the sage Rauru, which makes his nagging seem retrospectively less out-of-nowhere and slightly more forgivable, the player does not know that early on. They simply know there's an owl that shows up solely to spout bricks of text at them. To put it bluntly, Kaepora is a waste of a player's time.
These are little things, yes, but they really build up, and to make matters worse, the tedium reaches to Ocarina's dungeons. The water temple receives the bulk of the infamy in this arena -- it never has been as hard as its reputation claims in my eyes, but its layout is downright sloppy, and thanks to what could have been a potentially neat water level mechanic, playing through it takes a few hours that are mostly spent wondering how much more zigzagging you're willing to put up with. Among the dungeons of Ocarina of Time, the forest temple is the one I despise the most. An experienced player like myself should not feel dread just remembering the mess that playing through it quickly becomes. My girlfriend, who has also played through the game multiple times, joked there was no point in Sheik teaching us the Minuet of Forest -- the best course of action, she claimed, was to get through the temple as fast as possible and never come back. Getting lost in the forest temple takes only a matter of minutes and there's plenty of backtracking throughout, so even though we took turns specifically so neither of us would become exceptionally frustrated, it happened anyway. The fact that part of the forest temple theme resembles mocking laughter only made the experience more distressing.
This is not to say all the dungeons are tedious and bad; there are several temples that are incredibly well-designed, each room flowing into another and bringing puzzles that challenge but do not overwhelm, packed with interesting enemies and fun new items to play with. Dungeons like Dodongo's Cavern and the fire temple are examples of good level design. They're enjoyable. Dugeons like the forest temple are not.
And yet, even with all this tedium, I kept playing -- and I loved it as much as I did the first time I played it as a child. So what redeemed it?
Ocarina of Time exists in a very well-built world. Because of Koji Kondo's musical talent and carefully crafted areas, Hyrule feels alive and, in a way, alluring. It's also presented in very effective ways. Take Hyrule Field, for instance. When a player first leaves Kokiri Forest, taking the first steps toward their destiny and leading Link out of the only home he has ever known, they must take a small path before rounding a corner. Suddenly, a wide expanse of green grass and opportunities is laid out before them. So much to explore! And to keep players on track and prevent confusion early on, the path to Castle Town is laid out clearly. Castle Town, too, is one of my favorite examples of how Ocarina excels in world presentation. In order to advance the game, the player must enter the bustling cheer of the marketplace, and the first thing a player really sees after they leave the Temple of Time as an adult is the once-lively square, now housing only monsters and charred ruins. The contrast is clear, unavoidable, and a fantastic way to communicate to the player that something terrible has happened that must be resolved. Additionally, the world of Ocarina of Time is populated with characters that are interesting, memorable, and endearing. Sheik comes to mind; his cool mystery and the sense of caring he increasingly shows as the game progresses make him very important to Link and to the player. His secret, unexpected but aligning with the events of the game that precede its reveal, is another sign of good character writing. Ocarina presents you with characters that feel real, characters you want to protect, characters you don't want to let down.
It's the realness of Hyrule and the connection a player feels with its inhabitants that allows Ocarina of Time to tell its story, the story of growing up to become a true hero and vanquishing genuine evil, in a powerful way. Having a world in danger that you actually want to save is the first step to saving it.
And boy, does Hyrule need saving. Ganondorf's destructive power becomes all-encompassing and far more insidious once the player enters the adult era; rather than stick to creating hardships, he attempts genocide in barbaric ways, trapping the water-dwelling Zoras under thick sheets of ice and feeding the Gorons to a dragon of their own myths to frighten the other races of the world into submission. The rescues the player carries out become more high-stakes, the dungeons more dark and gruesome, the bosses more fierce. The efforts of the player do not go unrewarded. In the end, after all his trials and tribulations, Link strikes down Ganondorf, ending his legacy of cruelty and sealing him away. Ocarina does not leave you hanging. The evil within it is the real deal, and its destruction feels very exciting and very right. Its storytelling is fantastic, and set up in a way that makes players want to experience it.
So what's my angle here? As grouchy as I may sound about its shortcomings -- and believe me, they are very real shortcomings -- I still adore Ocarina of Time. It will never hold the title of "Best Game Ever" or even "Best Zelda Ever" for me, but it does hold a special place in my heart. It is another great entry in the Legend of Zelda franchise, and I encourage anyone who has not already played this legendary title to try to see past its problems and give it a shot. It's more than worth it.
Note: This was initially posted on the previous Blue Backspace site on September 15, 2016, but has been reposted here for clarity.