Samus and Sexism: Changing Female Roles in Games

When Metroid was released for the NES in 1987, a deliberate surprise was built into the game. The player’s character, bounty hunter Samus Aran, by all means a mysterious, space-faring, alien-killing badass with a gun for an arm, turned out to be female. At the time, this was unheard of; the Mario Bros. style princess in distress was the standard, and Metroid was asking players to identify with a strong female lead. Of course, not everyone was aware of this immediately, since the big reveal ending was limited to those players who completely the game speedily and efficiently. Over twenty years later, it’s hard to say how players at the time felt when they discovered they had been playing as a woman, or if they were as comfortable playing after entering a password which removed Samus’s armour, leaving her in a purple leotard.

With the release of Smash Brothers Brawl for Wii, “suitless” Samus is a full-fledged character dubbed “Zero Suit Samus”. While she made a brief appearance in a remake of the original game for the Game Boy Advance, this is the first time the character has been really rendered in three dimensions as a playable option, and the way it was done might be seen as a little unfortunate. It’s reasonable enough that Samus might wear a form-fitting suit beneath her power armour suit, but some details seem strange and even pandering. A long blonde ponytail is a bit odd considering the suit, although it could conceivably be tied up closer underneath the helmet. Her figure is athletic, but pretty stereotypically “warrior princess”, as she attacks her foes with a biting energy whip.

When playing as Zero Suit Samus, there is no question about the character’s gender, as opposed to the traditional Samus, whom some players may still confuse with a robot or otherwise assume is male. The armoured Samus then, presents an interesting gender situation for the player of any Metroid game who is aware of Samus’s true identity: they are being asked to identify with a female character who presents little of the characteristics common of such characters in many video games. For example, many loosely-medieval based role-playing games have male characters in heavy armour, while female characters are limited to tight-fitting leather or, at best, strategically placed, often moulded plates designed to show off curves, which might be useful for attracting a teenage male audience but would be of dubious practicality in battle.

We might consider ourselves lucky then, that Samus has remained relatively unchanged over the years, as a strong female figure that challenges common impressions of such characters. Yet the character has evolved over the years, her appearance developing as hardware limitations eased up, starting on the Super NES and continuing to the GBA games, where Samus appeared in less and less armour as the game was completed more successfully with each run. These minor appearances showcased the character in much the same form as today’s Zero Suit Samus.

Perhaps it isn’t entirely surprising, considering that Nintendo’s track record for plot and character innovation has been checkered over the years. There are some outstanding exceptions to the general rule, but for the most part, Mario saves the Princess, and in the Legend of Zelda, Link rescues the title princess. Nintendo’s attempt to reverse the Mario format resulted in a game where the character controlled Princess Peach and attacked foes using emotions: becoming enraged, tearful, or delighted in order to defeat enemies. Peach still swings a frying pan as one of her attacks in SSB:B. In the case of Zelda, her “male” alterego of Sheik proved interesting in The Ocarina of Time, and the character likely made those playing it ask a few questions. Zelda also seems to be a powerful presence in newer titles, proving instrumental in defeating the dark lord Ganondorf in Twilight Princess — but even that game ends with the strong-willed, impish Midna character becoming a beautiful queen, having broken the “curse of ugliness”.

There are examples then, of characters in Nintendo’s history who haven’t needed to be breathtakingly beautiful, or scantily clad to be strong, successful, and interesting for players, and Samus is one of them. However, it seems that recent developments are taking the path too obvious — making Samus into a lithe, whip-slinging gymnast — or downright ridiculous, like Peach’s wild mood swings used to take down Goombas, when jumping on them worked just fine for Mario. Years ago, the film Shrek had Princess Fiona remain an ogre rather than become human, with the titular character then telling her that she was, indeed, beautiful. Yet we still have Midna inevitably transforming into a statuesque queen, even when her appearance is of no major importance to the plot and her fierce and wily character seem at odds with such a regal, static “true” form.

Games have evolved in so many ways, even in the last couple of years. Graphically, artistically, games are becoming more and more refined, presenting us with different worlds, stories, and experiences to enjoy and explore. Yet gender representations are stuck in the past — female leads are often stuck as either damsels in distress, or, as is now more common, hypersexualized warrior princesses. Some might take this as evidence of change, and it’s hard to deny that it is, in some way. At least nowadays, we have more female characters in games than back when Samus was one of few on the block. But isn’t the warrior princess just as much a trope as the damsel in distress?

Metroid gave us a surprising twist, and it’s hard not to be disappointed as Samus becomes just another pretty face among countless other characters. Innovation in this area might seem to go against Nintendo’s “family-friendly” mandate, but it would win them respect and support from those gamers looking for more complex ideas in their games. Let Peach have her own game, just don’t make it about being an emotional wreck. Let Samus keep kicking ass, just don’t turn her into a busty caricature. Make games with female characters, just let them stand as important in their own right — without being sex objects first, and fully-fleshed out actors second.