Ocarina of Time Remake Review: Superb, Streamlined and Safe

Nintendo's remake of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time arrives Thursday on the Switch 2, and it is, by most measures, superb: painstakingly detailed, generously animated and largely faithful to the 1998 original. Yet the reviewer's verdict carries a sting. Despite its "stupendous production values," the game left him feeling "oddly bereft."

The reasons are built into the material. Ocarina of Time is a story about an idyllic world despoiled by the lust for power — a tale that "feels as relevant today as it did in 1998." Its hero, Link, works through the world as a child, then returns as an adult seven years later to try to rescue everyone he meets. The remake itself arrives 28 years after the original. As the review puts it: "Both in and out of the game, Ocarina of Time makes us yearn for an idealized past."

How does it play?

The remake updates dated controls rather than reproducing them. New jump and sprint buttons make navigation feel more natural, and combat runs smoother — though switching between targeted enemies remains clunky next to modern third-person games like Elden Ring, where a flick of the right stick toggles between foes.

The camera has moved to an over-the-shoulder view, replacing the original's thoughtfully composed angles. The reviewer adjusted quickly, but was irked that the remake abandoned the top-down view during the sneak into Hyrule Castle.

Item management borrows the quick-menu system introduced in 2023's Tears of the Kingdom and continued in 2024's Echoes of Wisdom. It is still not as fast as a customizable wheel would be, but it beats pausing constantly to reach the equipment screen — and it changes how you play. The reviewer found himself casting Nayru's Love and deploying Bombchus on the fly, where before he mostly relied on the Longshot and Bow.

Other quality-of-life changes include:

• A new "Threads of Time" quest log that points stuck players in the right direction — though the convoluted Biggoron Sword quest will likely still send you to a guide.
• A more tolerable Water Temple, the series' notoriously frustrating dungeon.
• Wallets that carry double the rupees — offset by inflation. Great Fairy upgrades are no longer free and can cost up to 500 rupees.

How does it feel?

The aesthetic changes stand out most. The game's "astonishingly ornate textures" can jar with its cartoony proportions. "Ninety-eight percent of the time the translation is a clear upgrade," the review notes — but not always. Nabooru, the Gerudo second-in-command, lands squarely in the uncanny valley, "bizarrely yassified with huge red lips and golden eye-shadow."

The expanded animations carry a cost. New cutscenes, particularly in the opening hours, drag down the pacing.

More contentious are the rewrites. The remake fleshes out unspoken implications and flattens rough edges:

• Mido, the bully who blocks your progress in Kokiri Forest, becomes an overbearing but well-intentioned boss.
• Kaepora Gaebora, the talking owl, no longer repeats himself at the slightest provocation.
• Navi, the fairy companion, stops chiming in with an incessant "Hey! Listen!"

"Such changes risk eroding the game's character," the reviewer warns — a caveat that follows every promise this remake makes.

Where does it sit among remakes?

On the fidelity spectrum, the reviewer ranks it "one of the most faithful adaptations I've seen" — less transformative than the Demon's Souls remake, but far more than the Final Fantasy 7 Remake trilogy or even the Resident Evil 4 remake. That fidelity gives him hope that Ocarina of Time's surreal sequel, Majora's Mask, could receive the same treatment in the future.

Still, no remake could eclipse the memory of the first Ocarina of Time. The original helped launch a new 3D era and defined a generation's childhood. "Where once it innovated, now it represents the safest of safe bets."

What does this change for Nintendo?

Strategically, plenty. The remake lands ahead of a Zelda movie next year, and Nintendo's lavish attention to an all-time classic, the reviewer writes, has ensured the game "won't go out of style for at least another few decades." He plans to share it with his nephews and, eventually, his own young son.

The closing judgment is double-edged: "As much as I detest how media giants can't seem to move past the hits of yesteryear, some harmonies are worth turning back time for." Superb, streamlined, safe — and, for a reviewer who lived through 1998, quietly saddening in exactly the way the game itself predicts.