Preview: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time – Link Faces Its Scariest Challenge Yet: 4K Era

Hyrule's kingdom has been beautified, the soundtrack freshly arranged, and our hero feels strikingly different under the thumb... We present a hands-on demo of Nintendo's Switch 2 remake of the 1998 game-changer, as a beloved art is revisited and reimagined, and a familiar cry from my childhood is heard often! But with Nintendo's Switch 2 remake of Ocarina of Time, livelihood is also at risk...

When popular art is revisited and revised, the familiar cry is often heard: "You're ruining my childhood!" But with the Nintendo Switch 2 remake of Ocarina of Time, livelihoods are also at stake: specifically, the man who runs the shooting gallery in Castle Town. In the original 1998 version of the game, he knocked players off their feet as they funneled rupees, destroying the new analog-chic aim that was still novel at the time. But in 2026 we have a more responsive frame rate and a motion-controlled slingshot that allows for fine adjustments. His goals fall in the first move and with them his entire business model. Even in Hyrule, the death of the high street seems inevitable.

Bad news for him but great news for Link, a child of the forest who, as in 1998, steps into a vast fantasy kingdom to vanquish a great evil, but now does so with a number of improvements. The boy can now jump quickly, avoiding the humiliation of endless rolly-plays across the grassy plains. He has a manual jump, free-rotating camera, a scrolling inventory bar that replaces menu screen faff and, crucially, a fatter wallet for holding all those gems he fleeces from struggling shooting gallery owners. Yes, we are being asked to applaud features that have been the norm for decades elsewhere, but it's undeniably striking to enter familiar territory with a hero who feels this difference under the thumbs.

For some throwback fans, the more controlled form appeals just right. After the "build-your-own-adventure" ethos of the Switch's open-world Zeldas, it's easy to slide into traditional dungeons, where each room has a character beast to cut or a mechanism to pick up with a growing tool bag. My big fear was that some puzzles are simply too iconic to be forgotten and re-solved. Yet here I am, sweaty ghost-hunting around the jungle temple, sneaking glances at my neighbor's display pod to remind myself that, yes, you should ... [redacted for your benefit]. Considering that in 1998, these were many designers' first forays into 3D, it's surprising how evil they are and how you're expected to hold complex architecture in your head in order to execute them.

It's also worth allocating main space for: the newly arranged soundtrack. Melodies that fight their way through N64 compressor samples to burn into the brain are free to roam. I love the experimental brass music when you lock an enemy in a duel - the musical equivalent of biting your lips.

The appearance of the link is more controversial. Where Hyrule is adorned with the expected details - nettles swaying in a forest house, marble sunlight on a river bed - its protagonist is fundamentally constructed. His big glass eyes and chubby cheeks that reflect the light in a lacquered way have critics accusing Nintendo of going too far for a textbook next-gen glow. Bells and whistles to fill 4K TVs with surface detail, rather than respecting the original artistic intent. In the past, some avid fans attempted to remake Zelda in more capable game engines and were ridiculed for mistaking technological grunt for artistry, and as evolving hardware opens those graphical avenues to Nintendo itself, it would be ironic if it fell for the same allure.

In truth, Ocarina of Time looks coherent in motion on Switch 2. If anything, the layer of 4K specificity evokes another Zelda game, Twilight Princess, itself an attempt to apply a more mature, realistic lens to Hyrule. And could Link, with those over-the-top features, possibly refer to another cultural pastime? As some corners of the internet scoffed at our newly "yassified" hero, the Nintendo veteran and former Legend of Zelda art director Takaya Imamura wondered if the character model drew from Zelda creator Shigeru Miyamoto's own tastes. Imamura wrote in X: “[His] love for ningyogeki (puppet drama) is strongly reflected here. China doll skin definitely explains the weird glow.

While we can only guess at Nintendo's exact goal, writer and translator Paul McQuade explains that it's not an impossible leap. "In Japan, doll-making is not just considered an art for children, which is largely understood elsewhere," she says. "It's a rich art and it's highly respected." He thinks that Miyamoto could easily have been influenced by puppet shows broadcast by Japanese broadcaster NHK in the postwar Showa era.

And besides, there is something poetic about this concept. "It's like a doll," says McQuade, "and deliberately teenage of Link's chubby features and flushed nose." "It captures the essence of that forest where the children don't ever grow up. Miyamoto, as a fan of puppetry, would of course draw on the vocabulary of dolls to make characters in that mold."

I like the idea of Nintendo honoring a society frozen in time in this way, while acknowledging that time has moved outside of the game. After that, there is an opportunity for manipulation and massage. In an adventure where a boy can magically become a man and back again with the toot of his ocarina, it makes sense for timelessness and timeliness to be in conversation. With virtual bones this strong, it's hard to argue that anything has actually been destroyed. Unless of course you run a shooting gallery.

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time releases on November 5th for Switch 2.