Metroid Prime 4: Beyond

Metroid Prime 4 is a game I’ve waited half my life for. Ever since the original Prime on GameCube, I’ve been hooked. With the Prime series essentially dormant since 2007, I had long given up hope of ever seeing a continuation of Prime 3’s cliffhanger (and yes, I’m ignoring Federation Force). Yet here we are eighteen years later—with Beyond. 

But anticipation can be its own enemy. After such a long drought, it was clear that many fans—me included—had built strong headcanon over the years about what they wanted a new Prime game to be. And that might be the game’s greatest hurdle: anything that isn’t exactly what we imagined is almost certainly going to disappoint. 

As previews rolled in before release, my excitement deflated. Multiple gaming outlets shared negative impressions of a mandatory companion character who talked too much, broke the isolation the series thrives on, and felt fundamentally un-Metroid. All of this had been kept under wraps in the yearlong marketing campaign Nintendo had been running. It made a lot of bad press from all sides of the internet, the opposite effect you want for a game that already had a rocky development history just weeks from launch. 

Still, all that aside, Retro Studios has an incredible track record. Between the original Prime trilogy and the Donkey Kong Country games, they’ve earned my trust. I went in willing to see what their vision for a 2025 Metroid Prime truly was. 

The Prime series has always carved out its own niche within the larger Metroidvania genre—more linear than its 2D counterpart but still has the same ideas at heart. This time around, it tries to honor the source material while introducing new concepts, yet the two sides clash more often than they complement each other. The result is something that lacks a stable identity. 

I’m not going to lie—Beyond’s first few hours let me down. Corridor after corridor, constant handholding, and a level of streamlining that felt antithetical to the series. What initially seemed like a confident new direction quickly revealed itself as something far more restrained and confusing. Given the veteran Retro Studios devs still at the company and the newer talent coming from teams behind Halo, the recent God of War, and Mass Effect, I thought all of that would lead to a marriage made in heaven. 

If there’s one thing Beyond absolutely nails, it’s the audiovisual side. The art direction is arguably the best in the series, paired with a score by returning composer Yamamoto, that perfectly captures Prime’s sense of wonder and style. On the surface, the game seems to embody everything that defines Prime. It even brings back the classic jingles and sound effects from past entries, which genuinely put a smile on my face. 

But atmosphere isn’t just visuals and music—it’s how those elements intertwine with level design. And that’s where Beyond stumbles. The game’s bombastic opening (again, much like Corruption) leads into the arrival on the desolate beautiful planet of Viewros. And once you look past the stunning vistas, both up close and afar—and become transfixed by the synth-choir tracks, it becomes obvious that the foundational world design is lacking and disappointingly shallow. I’ve already stated that Metroid games don’t follow a “natural” path and have always been linear—but the best ones disguise it. Dread, for example, soft-locks you occasionally but never feels restrictive. Here, rooms often have only one forward path; when there is a second, it’s almost always just a save room. It’s simplistic to a fault. 

Shortcuts between areas have also been replaced with cannons that fire you from one end to the other, stripping away the joy of rediscovering old routes that twist in on themselves. 

Some people have likened Beyond’s structure to Ocarina of Time—but honestly, it feels more like Skyward Sword. Sol Valley is basically the skies: wide, empty, and lacking personality. The decision to make the world larger and seamlessly interconnected ends up feeling like brain-dead filler. 

Meanwhile, in Prime's long absence, other franchises—God of War (2018) and the Star Wars Jedi games—have been refining the blueprint of Metroidvania with narrative-exploration genre in ways that make Beyond feel even more safe and conservative. I was certain it would draw influence from those. It’s baffling to me that Retro revisited Prime 1 for the remaster—a masterclass in interconnectivity—and even highlighted its world-design philosophy in the art book earlier this year. Intentional or not, there’s barely any of that here. 

There are moments where the trifecta of art, music, and level structure truly sing—moments that stand not only as series highlights but as genuine GOTY-tier material. But Beyond more often comes across as a mixed bag of ideas that never quite flow together. It’s jarring, and the inconsistencies make the flaws stand out even more—not to mention how disappointing it is, given Retro clearly still understands the franchise. 

There was a point where I realized I needed to stop comparing it directly to Prime 1 and instead view it as a continuation of Prime 3. Once I did that, certain choices started to make more sense: the focus on expanding Metroid’s world, the inclusion of more human characters, and the emphasis on larger-than-life set pieces. 

I didn’t mind the escort sections involving Galactic Troopers—the gameplay itself is fine. My issue is the banter, which lands with the energy of a B-tier Marvel script. It reminds me of Halo Reach’s Noble Team, but without any emotional attachment. And while the supporting cast chatters away, Samus remains unmoved: stoic, silent, unchanged. Expanding the universe around her doesn’t work when the focal point—Samus herself—refuses to evolve with it. It leads to a whole lot of one-sided conversations; even when Samus nods in response, it still feels like they’re talking to a wall. 

With the main catalyst of this story being the grand return of a villain who was a side character in a DS game and teased at the end of Prime 3, the payoff of what they were presumably building toward again leaves me disappointed. Ever since Sylux’s inclusion back in 2006, he’s been a character shrouded in mystery—who he is, his motives, and why, after four games, he has become such an important part of the series. Nintendo recently stated that Beyond is a “soft reboot” while still calling itself Prime 4. New players get no context; returning fans get no payoff. Even by the end, I was left with more questions than answers. I know story has never been Metroid’s strongest suit, given the amount of focus Retro seems to place on narrative and explanation in Beyond, the execution here feels oddly neglected. 

The upgrades in Beyond repeat familiar staples with very little novelty. Some even require “verification” by Galactic Troopers, forcing backtracking that feels like artificial padding. Getting an item and then having to immediately backtrack to activate the corresponding power-up breaks the pacing. I also wish there was a toggle for the radio chatter—it kicks in at the worst times to give unnecessary hints or just talk nonsense, and it’s a real pain. When you’re left to your own devices and the game is silent, Beyond shines in the best way. 

The traditional end-game scavenger hunt is replaced by two parts. The first involves hunting crystals scattered across the world—an activity with no puzzle-solving, no meaningful reward, and no connection to the game’s world-design philosophy. You’re simply sliding into green crystals for completion’s sake. The other is a late-game fetch quest that has you combing through past areas to find various parts. This also feels like padding, but in some ways, it works: the small sub-quests add moments of surprise that show the game in a better light. 

Before I forget, the boss battles are probably the single most consistently great thing about Beyond. Plentiful, challenging, and engaging—Prime games are known for strong bosses, and Beyond doesn’t disappoint. In fact, it was a boss battle just over halfway through my journey that began to change my opinion of the whole experience. 

Metroid has always been an oddity in Nintendo’s lineup. Critically adored, iconic, influential—yet commercially modest compared to Mario, Zelda, or Pokémon. It’s easy to see why Nintendo might push the series toward something more cinematic, more accessible, and more mainstream. But there’s a fine line between evolving a franchise and straying away from what makes it special. 

Releasing Metroid Prime Remastered as the most recent entry retrospectively may have unintentionally hurt Beyond, too. Without Prime 2 or Prime 3 available on modern hardware, players jumped straight from the best entry in the series to one that drastically shifts direction. A more gradual reintroduction to the trilogy’s evolution might have prepared expectations better. 

Here’s the strange part: despite everything I’ve criticized, Metroid Prime 4: Beyond is the first Prime game I’d recommend to newcomers. Much like starting Star Wars with Episode IV, Beyond works better as an entry point than as a continuation. 

It hits many of the highs the series is known for—atmosphere (in parts), music, visual design—yet it’s undermined by new additions that don’t elevate the formula and old ideas that feel forgotten. It’s never bad, but it rarely wowed me. And in a series built on wonder, discovery, and atmosphere, that inconsistency stings the most. 

Beyond isn’t the triumphant return I waited eighteen years for. But it’s also not a failure. It’s a good game that had the potential to be a great one—held back by design choices that keep it from ever reaching those heights. I understand the intention. I even respect the attempt. And as a lifelong fan, I just hope that—regardless of how I or other fans react to Prime 4—Nintendo treats this as a foundation and takes the feedback into Prime 5 to craft a more coherent game. 

Hours to beat: 14 hours

Pros:

• Gorgeous to look at

• Music is top notch

• Moments of greatness

Cons:

• Level design

• Story

• Lack of a flow

Score: 7.8/10