November 21st, 2023 marked the 25th anniversary of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time’s Japanese launch. To celebrate this historic Hyrulean occasion, we’re running articles throughout the week dedicated to the game, our memories, and its legacy. In this final feature, we’re closing with an opener as Jim explains why the game’s first dungeon is one of his all-time faves…
I have mentioned it a few times during this week’s anniversary celebration, but I’ll say it again just in case you haven’t been keeping up with the Ocarinaversary content (tut tut tut): The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was my introduction to gaming. And what an introduction it was.
There was, however, one issue. When you start your gaming journey with what many consider to be the greatest of all time, where do you go from there? The answer, it seems, is back to Ocarina of Time. Regularly.
I have managed to get a good number of games under my belt in the ensuing 25 years, a handful of which even preferred to Ocarina, but my introduction to Hyrule still dominates my list of favourite gaming moments. The title screen, the time travel, finally defeating Phantom Ganon after a particularly tear-inducing grind session, this game is packed with GOAT moments. But above all of these sits the immovable dungeon, Inside the Great Deku Tree. My beloved.
“You can’t pick an entire dungeon as your favourite gaming moment of all time!” you may cry, and that’s fair enough. Coincidentally, it just so happens that several of my top moments come from this very location, so I think it’s fair enough to group them together under a singular umbrella.
Rather than run through a step-by-step guide of the dungeon, I’ve decided to narrow it down to just a handful of my best bits. Some ‘Deku Delights’, you might say. I can’t honestly say that the dungeon is the best in the series — the Forest Temple holds together much better as a whole, if you ask me — but tell me this: Does the Forest Temple have a wicked jump off a ledge that builds up so much power you can break through the floor itself? I don’t think so.
Well, I’ve said it now, so why not start there? In the years before Tears of the Kingdom got us all used to the majesty of jumping from a high platform (okay, Assassin’s Creed sold me on it years prior, but let’s stick to the Zelda theme here), my little mind could not comprehend just how cool it would be to see such a feat of fantasy athleticism in action. The web flooring caught my eye from my first steps into the dungeon, and the excellent placement of the immediately visible heart just out of reach from the first platform — requiring you to jump off it and onto the web, testing its strength — encouraged me to put two and two together. I would have to jump from higher up.
Prior to that very moment, my childhood had been filled with “get down from the top of that tree,” “maybe we shouldn’t burn things,” and “let’s not jump into that hole, even if it is just for fun.” Now I’m a boring grown-up, I see that these are all sound pieces of advice, but at the time, the leap from the top of the Deku Tree, through that web mesh and into the water below gave me a rush of adrenaline that no Sky Island dive has been able to match.
So, let’s leap into some of the dungeon’s puzzles, shall we? Because (surprise, surprise), I think they’re brilliant.
I honestly don’t know if there has been a moment in gaming that has made me feel smarter.
The way that the Deku Tree gradually introduces you to the wonders of lighting torches. Wonderful. How you learn to cross the flooded floor while keeping your flame alight. Brilliant. But the one that stays in my mind as the best of Nintendo’s ‘let’s make these kids feel like geniuses’ is the 2-3-1 Deku Scrub brothers.
Just in case you don’t remember, a Deku Scrub at an earlier stage in the dungeon informs you that you will have to defeat his brothers by remembering that “twenty-three is number one” (a Michael Jordan reference, perhaps? Could this game be any more ’90s if it tried?). You have to hold onto this knowledge for a good long time, too.