How does one define perfection in video games? Is it recognizing how one game brilliantly executes its main goal? Is it simply returning to a childhood favorite again and again? Or, perhaps, is it something as broadly simple as doing everything
right? In that case, it's difficult to imagine anything more perfect in the
Zelda pantheon -- or perhaps even all of Nintendo's library -- than
The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. There are a variety of reasons for this, but more than anything, it's timeless in its accessibility. Consider this quality when when juxtaposed to
Zelda's other masterworks:
Majora's Mask -- which I still consider the the series apex -- demands an entirely different style of play that can be too stressful,
Breath of the Wild and even this game's sequel in
A Link Between Worlds may stray too far from the series formula for some,
Ocarina of Time suffers from the same graphical degradation as the rest of its respective generation, and
The Legend of Zelda is too archaic and impenetrable by today's standards.
Only
Link's Awakening for Game Boy may match it here, and as masterful as that game's bittersweet balance of infectious light-heartedness and gradual melancholy is,
A Link to the Past is instantly superior for presenting the greatest opening in series history -- as far as Nintendo games go, only
Super Metroid and
Metroid Prime may surpass it, and
A Link to the Past may even trump those with its own title opener. After the Nintendo logo flickers on screen with the gentlest of harps, a majestic three-dimensional Triforce morphs into shape, embedding within the game's logo as the Master Sword pierces through, a triumphant score celebrating our arrival into the latest
Zelda adventure.
