Metroid II: Return of Samus – Third Opinion Review

The following retrospective review of the first ever Metroid instalment for a handheld console could have the title “How I Learned to Love SR388.” It comes from someone who…well, kind of hated the sequel to the original NES title. A decade and a half after his last time playing it, he decided to give it one more go, trying to see the good behind the bad…and partly succeeded. After Cubed3’s original positive look at Metroid II: Return of Samus, as well as a second opinion article, here’s a third alternative one that hopes to change how like-minded “haters” feel about Samus Aran’s venture into the home planet of the titular creature.

While an extremely successful system, the Game Boy was a handheld console of the early ‘90s, not an advanced smartphone from 20XX. Most of the games that one could enjoy on it were nothing more than scaled-down versions of the real thing, with even the better ones, like Super Mario Land 2 and The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening, being nothing more than compromises, limited by the hardware they had to use. It’s no surprise, then, that Metroid II: Return of Samus has a couple of issues that are expected from a Game Boy title.

A notable example is how, due to the small size of the screen, Samus is close to the “camera,” which in turn means that the player can’t see very far, making it easy to take damage by landing on an enemy or hazard that suddenly appears in view. At the same time, Metroid II frequently uses the system’s limitations to its benefit, trading colour and clarity for portability, placing players on a hostile underworld with little guidance and even less comfort. The result is a divisive experience that feels stark and oppressive, yet oddly compelling, with plenty of its flaws actually being its strengths if you look hard enough.

What is the deal here, exactly? Well, for starters, the story is absent in-game. The Start button is pressed and then BAM! – you’re in control of the famous bounty hunter, with an icon in her HUD showing a Metroid plus a number next to it. Without even reading the manual it’s easy to understand that the task is to exterminate every single one of these creatures. Initially this feels like a very “game-y” concept. The player is given a checklist to complete, instead of simply being left on their own to enjoy their unpredictable adventure – and yet this simple framing reinforces a sense of isolation that becomes central to the experience, allowing one to piece everything together without having to read a single line of text.

After an hour or so of exploring, it becomes clear that Metroid II is filled with similar and mostly boring caverns to look at. It’s easy to get lost not because this microcosm is labyrinthine, but because everything looks the same. The environments of SR388 are sparse, with just some critters flying or jumping around. While it feels (and is) empty, that’s intentional and builds atmosphere. Even the way the world becomes more lifeless as one gets to the end reinforces the narrative of going deeper and deeper to kill some super-lethal space jellyfish. The black background and minimalist design of it all enhances the aura of dread, forcing one’s imagination to fill in the gaps, with the ambient bleeps, boops and chirps, plus the occasional eerie tune, creating an unnerving, alien soundscape.

The biggest “con that’s really a pro” aspect of it all is how, like with the 1986 classic, you are left to figure out things on your own. There’s no map or UI guidance, which is something that, combined with the monochrome visuals, makes it easy to get lost despite the world itself being fairly linear in structure. Annoying? Yes, but, like with the original, that confusion creates a true feeling of being an explorer, as it becomes imperative to rely on memory, landmarks and intuition. The main objective within each area is to kill all Metroids in order for the lava level to decrease and open the road to the next underground section. In essence, you’ll rarely get stuck – just unsure on where to go, which keeps tension high.

Okay, that’s enough positivity for the day. Sadly, while this critic managed to finally discover a lot of good things here, Metroid II still remains a low point in the franchise. It’s easy to accept the repetitiveness (visual and otherwise) and the more linear nature of it all, but actual moment-to-moment gameplay has some severe issues. For starters, and as mentioned earlier, Samus is shortsighted and can’t see what’s just a few steps ahead of her. There are plenty of sections where she needs to dive down into a long vertical corridor, or jump (or fly) up ahead to reach a higher platform or the ceiling of a large room, but that often leads to her hitting something hard, pointy, or acidic and losing precious health points.

Metroid II can be surprisingly challenging. In many ways, it’s the toughest of them all, as it has an almost survival aspect to it, with health going down very easy, and very few chances for the player to replenish it. That’s good. The realms Samus explores are meant to be inhospitable. The difficulty at hand, though, is more a matter of unpolished mechanics. First, it’s the issue of not seeing very far, which becomes especially aggravating when fighting the Metroids themselves, as they tend to only move when they are in view, and missiles don’t harm them unless the creatures are mostly visible. It’s a shame, really, as these encounters carry weight, amplified by the creatures’ evolving forms and the sudden shift in atmosphere when they appear. It’s almost as if playing an Alien game.

The second problem is the overall clunkiness of the controls. Samus is sadly at her stiffest, making combat sequences awkward and irritating. Traversal is a victim of the controls as well. There will be moments where a Metroid or two will take a bit more time to be discovered, but since there’s no indication where one should search next, many will simply try to search everywhere, including places they have already been to. That’s part of the Metroid recipe, sure, but here that feels like walking through a field of cactuses; way too much pain for the – expected – reward.

No, the critic hasn’t forgotten about the several innovations that were introduced here, which would become series staples. The Spider Ball, Space Jump, and beam upgrades expand the heroine’s mobility and combat options in meaningful ways. In fact, Metroid II is one of those titles that is much harder in the beginning and progressively gets easier with each new tool discovered. These additions are not merely incremental – they reshape how players interact with the environment. Climbing walls, navigating tight tunnels, and experimenting with traversal tools all contribute to that unique sense of progression the sub-genre is known for.

Still, it’s hard to stomach the flaws. Its repetitive structure, bland environments and unpolished controls make it a difficult place to revisit. Remain calm, fans of the game; this critic understands how you feel for the simple reason that he loves the 1986 Metroid, whereas many others see it as borderline exhausting rather than engaging, often for the same reasons mentioned here. It might be a matter of preference, but objectively speaking, Metroid II leans closer to a transitional experiment rather than a fully realised experience. Historically significant, sure, as many of its ideas would later be refined into something far better in subsequent instalments – but the original execution lacks the necessary finesse.