An interesting 10-minute video from gruz about Super Mario Bros. Remastered, a modern Super Mario fan remake with surprising depth that puts Nintendo’s own efforts to shame:

What I liked about it is that it’s wrestling with the idea “How do you improve on something considered perfect?” and touches upon the important area we cover occasionally here on this blog: when is software finished?

There is also another interesting angle. Even though the game requires original game ROMs to work, it’s still in a very, very gray area:

[…] Once you strip it down, this thing is built around Nintendo’s world: the Super Mario Bros. name, the characters, the visual identity, the level concepts, the branding, the whole presentation. And the more ambitious it gets, the riskier it feels. Once a fan project starts offering not just a remake, but extra modes, editor tools, custom-level browsing, ratings, and a growing user-generated content scene, it stops looking like a small tribute and starts looking like something operating in Nintendo’s lane.

(I didn’t expect to see the original Super Mario game to come up so often on this blog – I just added a tag for it – especially since I don’t have any personal reverence for it. But it seems it’s Super Mario and Doom specifically that became timeless pieces of software that keep being resurrected, revisited, and remixed, over and over again.)

It is common knowledge that Luigi is just a palette-swapped Mario, and that the characters facing left are the same characters as those facing right, only rendered mirrored.

This interesting 9-minute video from Core-A Gaming explains how this can be kind of tricky for fighting games in particular:

Suddenly, a character with a claw on one hand, or a patch on one eye, becomes a more complex situation – without redrawing, the claw or the patch move from one side of the body to another. Then there’s the issue of open stance toward the player, turning left-handed characters into right-handed ones just when they switch to the other side.

3D fighting games can, in theory, fix all of this with more ease, as instead of redrawing hundreds of sprites they can just introduce one change to a model… but they often choose not to. Enter the issues of 2.5D fighters vs. 3D fighters, 2D characters in 3D spaces, and lateralized control schemes.

It’s a small thing that quickly becomes a huge thing.

Here’s an object in Figma with one rounded corner. Notice how the UI always tries to match the rounded corner value based on where it is physically on the screen…

…which makes for a fun demo and feels smart, but: why don’t width and height do the same?

Turns (heh) out that this is a similar set of considerations as those in fighting games: both thinking deep about what is an intrinsic vs. derived property of an object, and what is the least confounding thing to present to the user. Since objects usually have noticeable orientation – text inside, or another visual property – width still feels like width and height like height even if they’re rotated. The same, however, isn’t necessarily true for four rounded corners. Or, perhaps, the remapping of four “physical” corners to four “logical” corners can be more error-prone.

Then, of course, there’s a question of what to do when the object doesn’t have a noticeable orientation. Like with many of the things on this blog, there are no “correct” answers. This too is a small thing that quickly becomes a huge thing.

I mentioned before how the old-fashioned pixels on CRT screens have little in common with pixels of today. The old pixels were huge, imprecise, blending with each other, and requiring a very different design approach.

Some years ago, the always-excellent Tech Connections also had a great video about how in the era of analog television, pixels didn’t even exist.

But earlier this month, MattKC published a fun 8-minute video arguing that for early video games it wasn’t just pixels that were imprecise. It was also colors.

What was Mario’s original reference palette? Which shade of blue is the correct one? Turns out… there isn’t one.

Come to learn some details about how the American NTSC TV standard (“Never The Same Color”) worked, stay for a cruel twist about PAL, its European equivalent.

I have zero nostalgia for Mario, and yet I was surprised how much I enjoyed this 30-minute video by Sheddux:

It serves as a bit of design history and even critique of early Mario games, and then in the middle it turns into an analysis of the Mario port on Game & Watch – an obsolete technology even in the 1980s, and something that could have been an easy cash grab, except someone cared.

Translating Mario’s mechanics to a much inferior tech is an interesting design challenge, plus there’s just this universal pleasure of seeing someone go extra. And the video has a nice ending message, too.