As you’re probably already aware, everyone in the media is allowed to write one article complaining a𝕴bout how they miss the good ol’ days when games didn’t hold your hand and kiss your boo-boos. Well, is finally here after 19 agonizing years of waiting, and I’m cashing in my chip to complain about it.
I loved Dread, it’s exactly what I wanted in a modernized Metroid and it might end up being my game of the year. I love the bold direction it took with the story and most of my complaints are very minor. I do, however, have a major one: why is Adam talking to me like an idiot? I didn’t need to hear a single thing Adam had to say throughout the entire game, yet for some reason this guy feels the need to state the obvious and even spoil a bunch of surprises. Didn’t we learn our lesson with Adam in Other M? Adam is Dread’s guiding hand that seems to be intended to help players along, but all h꧃e ever does is interrupt the flow of the game. His input reveals how Metroid works under the hood in a way that Iജ found to be a detriment to the experience, and at times even risked corrupting the principles that make Metroid what it is.
When Dread was revealed during E3 earlier this year, . “Adam is just a point for lore,” Apolinario said. “He doesn’t give any direction to Samus, it’s up to the player where they want to navi෴gate and explore.” In the immortal words of Tyler, The Creator:
Adam doesn’t just convey background and lore, Adam is a machine specifically designed for exposition and direction. Every time you visit a new Network Station, Adam will be there to sum up everything that's happened since your last check-in and provide some pretty direct instructions about what to do next. Early on, the AI will give you general direction about collecting upgrades and working your way up to the surface, but once you’ve visited several areas and the interconnected map becomes sufficiently complex, Adam will start giving you direct instructions and even reveal the exact upgrades you need to progress. It’s off-putting and entirely unnecessary, and what’s worse it takes away so much of the satisfaction of exploring on your own.
Towards the end of ꦿthe game you’ll find yourself back in Artaria, but now it’s completely frozen over. As you make your way through the area towards the Net🐓work Station, you’ll pass by a Chozo statue holding an upgrade in a room that would be easily accessible were the entrance not covered in ice. This upgrade stands out because it isn’t common to see a chozo statue like this out in the open, and also because it’s obvious that you need to thaw the ice in order to obtain it. Of course, when you get to the Network Station, Adam explains all of this to you. He tells you to head to Cataris to turn the heat up, but then to come back to Artaria right away to collect a very important upgrade. Adam explains all of this despite it being the obvious thing to do, which can either make you feel stupid or take away the satisfaction from figuring it out yourself.
It’s pretty astounding how often Adam tells you things you already know or things it would have been more fun to figure out on your own. Every time you get an upgrade, Adam reiterates how it works, despite the fact the game paused to give you a full explanation of the upgrade when you picked it up. He’ll tell you which areas you can’t go in and what upgrades you’ll need to find to access them. Adam says don’t walk in lava until you find the Varia suit, but you’d understand that just as well by stepping in the lava yourself. Later whe🍌n you find the Varia suit, you’ll remember the lava you couldn’t walk through earlier. The rest of the Metroid games trust the player to figure those things out on their own, but Dread insists on spelling everything out for you.
The way Adam babies the player risks creating an overreliance on his direction. Instead of pushing against the boundaries to see what’s possible, you might find yourself solely relying on Adam to show you the way forward. The way he simply spells out the lock and key structure of Metroid’s upgrade system lifts the veil on the game’s design in a way that I find to be immersion-breaking. There are certainly some necessary story beats that come through Adam, but every time he told me I needed such and such upgrade before I was ready to face Raven Beak, it made me want to format the hard drive and erase him from existence. Some of A𝔉dam’s character traits can be forgiven considering the ending, but his primary function as a guide is wholly unnecessary and ultimately hurts the experience.