One of the reasons I love Mega Man games is that, on a whole, the series is pretty good at environmental storytelling. Sure, it might be true that the majority of Mega Man levels are nothing more than high tech fortresses, but there are also plenty that take place in industrial or even residential districts overrun and overtaken by the enemy. These levels do a lot to emphasize just what you are fighting for, by making it clear how devastating the enemy’s attack has been on the civilian population. In this post, I would like to share some examples of this kind of visual storytelling across the original six NES games.
Preface
All of the pictures for this piece were taken by yours truly. Rather than using an emulator, I took photos of a variety of different displays, including a CRT, a Nintendo 3DS, and an HDTV. There may be some reflections of myself in some photos, and the quality of each is not consistent, but I think they get the point across.
Mega Man 1
The very first Mega Man does a surprisingly good job of environmental storytelling. The lore of the game emphasizes the idea that the Robot Masters were once helpful bots that were turned evil, so it plays off on the idea that robots who worked in civilian spaces might not stray too far from them.
Let’s start with my favorite example - Ice Man’s stage.
Here you can clearly see a bunch of palm trees that are iced over. I have no idea if this is meant to be a tropical resort, or is simply meant to imply “this takes place somewhere near the equator”, but either way we have a region whose ecosystem has been completely destroyed by Ice Man’s powers. The only question I have is whether there are people frozen over somewhere offscreen.
In addition to the trees, I love the color of the sky and the thin shape of the clouds. It reminds me of how even a blue sky can look absolutely dead and lifeless in wintertime.
Next we have Bomb Man’s stage:
I’m not sure what this is supposed to be, but I always imagined those lollipop-shaped buildings to be part of the skyline of a futuristic city. If this were a fortress, it wouldn’t make a ton of sense to build multiple buildings. I think the “stage as city” idea makes even more sense if you consider that Bomb Man’s abilities means he is more than capable of causing any one of these structures to fall. I can imagine each one filled with residents huddling in fear, as Bomb Man effectively holds them hostage to try and draw out Mega Man. It gives the stage an extra creepy vibe.
Rounding out Mega Man 1 is Guts Man’s stage. As far as I can tell it is just a rock quarry, but the game does a good job of making it look like an active work site.
Here we can see a pickaxe-chucking, hardhat wearing construction robot. This is the rare example of a (non boss) Mega Man baddie who looks like it was once a helpful robot who was repurposed for evil.
I love how there is a barricade blocking off access to hole in the rock. That was clearly put there by whatever humans worked the quarry before it was overtaken.
Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t show off the dreaded “falling platforms” of Guts Man’s stage. I like to think these were originally meant to transport ore and materials, possibly dropping it off into storage containers below.
Mega Man 2
Mega Man 2 may be tied for “Greatest Mega Man game of all time”, but it admittedly does little to no environmental storytelling. All of the stages here are clearly just fortresses custom-built for each Robot Master. However, there is one image I wanted to share, depicting the opening to Bubble Man’s stage:
Mega Man begins the stage standing in front of (alonside?) what I can only describe as a waterwall. It stretches quite a bit to the right, and goes so far down that Mega Man dies if he falls off. While you cannot see it in the image, the background animates rather rapidly to suggest an overwhelming flow of water down the wall.
Anyone who has been near fast moving water knows how loud and intimidating it can be. This stage is the equivalent of being asked to leap between platforms propped up alongside Niagara Falls. It is an entirely harrowing prospect, and I think this stage does a fantastic job of conveying that sense of scale and might.
Mega Man 3
Mega Man 3 does slightly more environmental storytelling than its predecessor. Very slightly more. The only stage that looks to me like a public space is Needle Man’s.
You have a cityscape in the background, and some squat towers in the foreground that remind me of some retro-futuristic “House of Tomorrow”. It feels like a slightly prettier version of Bomb Man’s stage from MM1.
This one is a toss up, but I’m convinced that Top Man’s stage takes place in some sort of lab or hyrdoponic farm. Why the heck else would there be plants growing under a glass floor?
On a final side note, while not exactly environmental storytelling, I love how Magnet Man’s stage is decorated with long coils of wire. As cartoonish as Mega Man is, props for including a bit of high school-level physics.
Mega Man 4
Perhaps the least beloved Mega Man game on the NES, MM4 does not have much going for it, including in regards to its art design. The only thing I found even remotely interesting was Dust Man’s stage, which is quite clearly set in trash processing center, complete with incinerators and compactors:
Honorable (or not-so-honorable) mention goes to the opening to Toad Man’s stage:
Once again, we get some nice water effects that drive home the fact that this level takes place during a downpour. The stone causeway, complete with overflowing drainage systems, gives the stage a rustic flair we do not typically see in a Mega Man game.
Mega Man 5
I have a soft spot for this game. It is the first time since the original game that we see a dedication to environmental storytelling.
In Star Man’s stage, we begin with the sight of massive satellite dishes and a starry background:
What really gives this scene away are the guardrails. That’s as good a tell as any that this was once some sort of installation manned by humans. If it were a fortress, no Robot Master would fill it with safety measures.
Later on in the stage, we see even more of the railings. This must be some sort of observatory.
Moving on, we have Crystal Man’s stage. I’m torn on this one. On one hand, the stage itself is built out of crystal, which seems unnatural. On the other hand, look at all the structures sticking out of the ground. They look like probes to me.
Later on, we see more of the probes, as well as crystals falling out of chutes. Is this some sort of mine?
Third on the list is Charge Man, which takes place in train station, and later an actual train:
The train in the background is very clearly a commuter car of some sort, so we can rest assured that Charge Man did not build himself his own railway.
On further inspection, inside the train we can see some unknown type of cargo. Who it was originally intended for I cannot tell, but I appreciate that the artists chose not to make the thing empty.
We are now on to the fourth stage from Mega Man 5, which is quite impressive. Wave Man’s stage looks like a fairly standard fortress, at least until it kicks outside and throws you onto a jetski:
Now we can see that the stage exists near a mountainside city. Perhaps that means that this is some sort of lake, or maybe a reservoir.
Come to think of it, yes, this could be a reservoir - and the structure from earlier in the stage could have been part of a water treatment plant or something:
This is from earlier in the stage. Notice the crack in the ground? No Robot Master would deliberatley put that into their home. This must be some sort of industrial plant connected to a body of water.
I have one last example from Mega Man 5, one that I almost excluded. Napalm Man’s stage feels extremely problematic in the year 2020. Not only does it take place in Vietnam, but it specifically looks to be set in and around an abandoned, underground Viet Cong base.
Having said all that, it nevertheless does an effective job at conveying a sense of place, even if said place is highly insensitive (and also based on a pastiche of war movie imagery).
Mega Man 6
The last of the NES games is often ignored, having come out a year after Mega Man X on the Super Nintendo, and the same year that the Playstation arrived in Japan. Nevertheless, it is a very pretty game with a few decent scenes.
The trick with MM6 is that it is hard to tell whether some of the levels take place in civilian spaces, or whether the Robot Masters designed their fortresses to simply resemble various ethnic architectures. The fact that the game wallows in stereotypes makes it hard to tell.
Take Flame Man for instance. His stage very obviously takes place in the Middle East. The stage is filled with sand and oil, and the skyline looks like Agrabah from Disney’s Aladdin:
This could be a palace, but why would anyone fill the subfloors of a palace with sand? Regardless, we at least know where the stage takes place near.
Next up is Yamato Man. At the start of the stage we get a glimpse of a city in the far background, and it is last time we ever see it. It lets us know what the stage is near, but that’s about it. Also, the fortress is very much inspired by an ancient Japanese architecture, but it does not give the impression of actually being an ancient structure.
The same thing plays out for Knight Man’s stage. At the start, we see a blood red sky and a black forest in the background, as we venture forth into a castle-themed fortress. Again, this is definitely a fortress, but I still appreciate the sense of place we get from this establishing shot.
Continuing on with the offensive stereotypes, Tomahawk Man’s stage looks to be on a Native American reservation. Okay, so I don’t really know that, but if it was just a fortress out in the desert, why would this sign be there?
This scene from later in the stage does some more placesetting:
Lastly we have Centaur Man’s stage. The broken columns in the background suggest actual ancient Greek ruins, and Mega Man is clearly entering a cave, but is this really taking place on one of the islands of Greece?
Probably not, but I can at least tell what they were trying to get at.
Conclusion
Most of these examples are one-off scenes from specific parts of each stage, but considering we are talking about a console as primitive as the NES, I think even these little hints of environmental storytelling go a long way toward imbuing these games with a sense of … not history exactly, but texture. Depth. Character.
Having said that, I find it curious that the two best Mega Man games on NES - namely 2 and 3 - largely eschew this kind of storytelling. I actually think this proves just how useful and important it can be; if you want to avoid it, you better be as good as Mega Man 2 and 3! Or to put it another way, the other games may not be quite as good, but extra depth of their storytelling helps motivate me to continue playing - and ultimately enjoy - them.
In the next piece, we will take a look at some more examples in some Super Nintendo games.