Ready to level up your knowledge of all things Nintendo? The five-part documentary series Playing With Power: The Nintendo Story is here to unveil more than 130 years of behind-the-scenes secrets to reveal how a humble family business has become the defining voice of the video game industry. But, hey, listen: it’s not all fun and games. Written and directed by Jeremy Snead, Playing With Power: The Nintendo Story takes audiences back to 1890 Japan, where an innovative playing card company would lay the groundwork for the Nintendo dynasty. Loved by The Lord of the Rings, Stranger Things and Goonies, Sean Astin narrates, his friendly and familiar voice guiding audiences throughout Nintendo’s century of history before the War Consoles of the 1990s and beyond. Interviews with a number of experts are presented. Historians report Nintendo’s early days and the latest innovations. Big game wigs – like Atari co-founder Nolan Bushnell, Nintendo of America co-founder Ron Judy, and former Sega Of America CEO Tom Kalinske tell of the heady days when games have moved from arcades to living rooms. Famous players like Wil Wheaton, Alison Haislip and Nati “Zombi Unicorn” Casanova provide personal anecdotes and colorful comments. Each of these respondents demonstrates a clear passion for Nintendo or games. Unfortunately, this excitement is not contagious because Snead’s approach refuses to probe. As was the case with the documentary Console Wars, the voices favored in Nintendo’s history all come from the American branch. The founders who paved the way for Mario Bros. dominate the American game are respected lip service by historians and colleagues. However, these Japanese innovators were not interviewed. Instead, their personal and professional lives are presented as smooth dioramas with plastic figures in place of real people. Of course, some of these Nintendo titans are not around to be interviewed. Still, despite all the praise that the creator of Super Mario / The Legend of Zelda Shigeru Miyamoto is offered in this series, you would think they would speak to the 68-year-old living legend itself. Without these interviews, a shocking distance develops in the first episode that persists throughout the series, keeping some of Nintendo’s main players diverted to the edge of their narrative.
Most frustrating, Snead chooses to give Nintendo a shiny veneer, even in its darkest moments. It is undeniable that Nintendo created a monopoly on American games that made it incredibly difficult for any other console to compete. However, the most shocking stories and treacherous tactics set out on the 93-minute Consoles are not covered in 297 minutes of Playing With Power: The Nintendo Story. Instead of trying to take the tension out of how Nintendo went from underdog to alpha dog, Snead runs through these sections, as if complexity is the enemy.
Perhaps that is why he does not pressure respondents to follow up on curious admissions. For example, an American executive remembers hating the name “Donkey Kong” and requesting a different title for the launch in the United States. As quickly as he admits he underestimated the power of this peculiar – and now iconic – brand, he says his offer to change his name has been rejected. Why did he hate the name? What did he suggest instead? Why was your proposal rejected? Snead does not ask, so any path to tension or even the possibility of imagining a world without the Donkey Kong that we know is lost. Gold coins fell to the brick floor.
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Rather than delving deep into the darker realms of Nintendo’s history, Snead is happy to stay on the surface and even warn strangers about lawsuits and errors. Thus, it offers a cover-up that is not so exciting. Perhaps to make up for the professional tensions bypassed, Snead stuffs his series with an unforgiving soundtrack. It is so loud and persistent that I sometimes struggled to focus on what was being said by the interviewees. The music refused to be deep. It’s as if Snead is trying to make up for the lack of dramatic tension with an orchestral score that screams for you to feel something. Not every scene comes close to Bowser. When music is not really reaching a climax, all these crescents go from diminishing returns of tension to absolute irritants. You wait for catharsis and, instead, it’s just another sloppy segment with more howling orchestrations.
This series has an inexplicable pace. The layout is simply linear. Snead follows a chronological order that steals the tension, because we know that this humble game booth in Kyoto will lead to great success. In addition, it structures its chapters as movie trailers, relentlessly employing montages. Here is a montage, bringing together some cultural context from popular TV shows, Oscar mishaps or music that rocked the radio waves. Here’s another, putting together several images of the game. How about another montage of dizzy kids tearing off the NES wrapping paper on Christmas day? Does this section dry over cartridge costs per punch unit? (Yes.) How about a hint of catchphrases that provoke what’s to come, moments before an expert tells us what happened next? Now, another montage of newspaper headlines!
All of this makes it impossible to get into the flow of the show because there is no flow. Each section looks like a pop-up ad, shrill, disconnected and trying to sell us something. This is strange because if you are watching this show, you are already sold! You are likely to have one or three Nintendo consoles. You have a favorite character. You know your best battle move. At some level, you’re Team Nintendo, so why does this whole show sound like a fever pitch?
