Sunday, March 22, 2026

How Super Mario Bros. (1993) Explains the Entire Super Mario Bros. Franchise?

One of the big mysteries of the Super Mario Bros. series is: who is the mother of the Koopalings (although they were initially Bowser’s children, they were later retconned to be unrelated) or Bowser Jr.? Also, what does Bowser Jr.’s mother think about Bowser pathological obsession and love for Princess Peach? Why did Bowser raise Bowser Jr. to believe that Princess Peach is his mother, as seen in the infamous scene in Super Mario Sunshine?

 

In almost every Mario video game, Bowser repeatedly kidnaps Princess Peach, truly believing that she loves him. Each game shows Peach confused and baffled by Bowser’s obsession, including the reveal of Bowser Jr. calling her “mama” In the 2023 movie, Princess Peach called Bowser’s expectation of her reciprocating his love “insane.” Could the 1993 Super Mario Bros. film explain all of this?

 

The Super Mario Bros. film is widely considered a pretty awful movie, one that seems embarrassed to be a Mario Bros. story. Instead of presenting the Mario universe as it is, it tries to explain its fantastical elements using science fiction. It might have worked if the film had fully committed to that approach, but the mix of a goofy tone with dystopian science fiction resulted in a jarring and unsatisfying experience.

 

However, the most compelling aspect of the Super Mario Bros. movie is the introduction of the character Lena Koopa, Bowser’s wife. Her presence and her subsequent death can be interpreted as explaining the entirety of the Mario franchise.

 

During the movie, Bowser kidnaps Princess Daisy. He is clearly attracted to her and unsuccessfully tries to seduce her, essentially having a one-sided emotional affair. Lena recognizes Bowser’s attraction and is clearly jealous. This leads her to try to murder Princess Daisy until Daisy is rescued by Yoshi. Bowser’s infatuation with Daisy drives Lena to take matters into her own hands, independently attempting to enact Bowser’s plans, ultimately leading to her death.

 

Integrating Lena into the Mario Series

What would happen if Lena Koopa were incorporated into the Super Mario Bros. series? Suppose Lena is Bowser’s fiancée. In the first Super Mario Bros. game, Bowser kidnaps Princess Peach, probably for political or power reasons. Over time, he develops romantic feelings toward Peach, which are not reciprocated, effectively constituting a one-sided emotional affair. Lena becomes jealous and attempts to stop Mario independently. Perhaps one of the impostor Bowser characters in the first game or the “Fake Bowser” who attacks Mario prior to the final boss in Super Mario Bros.: The Lost Levels could be interpreted as Lena Koopa, ultimately killed in the process.

 

When Princess Peach is rescued and Bowser is defeated, Bowser must confront the fact that his attraction and emotional affair with Peach indirectly caused Lena’s death, depriving Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings of a mother. How can he look his children in the eyes, knowing that his own moral failings led to this tragedy?

 

This experience could plausibly cause Bowser to mentally crack. In his mind, Lena and Princess Peach fuse into a single, interchangeable figure. He develops an erotomanic delusion. Not only does he believe Peach loves him, but she also becomes the mother of Bowser Jr. and all the Koopalings. If Peach is not Lena, Bowser must confront the reality that his infidelity caused his fiancée’s death and left his children motherless, a reality too painful to face.

 

By fusing Peach and Lena in his mind, Bowser denies Lena’s death and the separateness of Peach, allowing himself to pretend that his wife and the mother of his children is still alive as well as absolved himself of any wrongdoing with his attraction to Peach. This is why he raises Bowser Jr. to believe that Peach is his mother and that Mario is trying to kidnap her. This explains why throughout the series, Bowser repeatedly kidnaps Peach and attempts to force her into marriage. It is an act of undoing, an attempt to reverse the trauma of Lena’s death and atone for his betrayal. Bowser’s insistence that Peach love him, despite her hatred, is a repetition compulsion, a way to manage his guilt over betraying his fiancée and depriving his children of a mother.

. This is why he raises Bowser Jr. to believe that Peach is his mother and that Mario is trying to kidnap her. This explains why throughout the series, Bowser repeatedly kidnaps Peach and attempts to force her into marriage. It is an act of undoing, an attempt to reverse the trauma of Lena’s death and atone for his betrayal. Bowser’s insistence that Peach love him, despite her hatred, is a repetition compulsion, a way to manage his guilt over betraying his fiancée and depriving his children of a mother.

Bowser, Mario, and the Reality Principle

This also explains Bowser’s hatred of Mario. Mario represents reality crashing into Bowser’s delusions. Whenever Mario rescues Peach, he enforces the truth that Peach is not Lena and does not reciprocate Bowser’s feelings. Bowser cannot tolerate this, which explains why he repeatedly attempts to kill Mario and abduct Peach.

 

Yet this dynamic also accounts for Bowser’s eventual defeat to Mario and his occasional truces with him in various sporting and racing games. Perhaps part of Bowser subconsciously wants to be punished and to accept defeat for his sins. Notably, Bowser defeats Mario in the intros of Super Mario Galaxy and Super Mario Odyssey without killing him. His oscillation between mortal enemy and sporting rival reflects a psychological split: he hates Mario for shattering his delusions, but he also appreciates the punishment Mario delivers for his moral failings. Despite his hatred for Mario, Mario must survive and ultimately defeat him.

Conclusion

Viewed through this lens, Lena from the 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie offers a darkly coherent explanation for Bowser’s obsession, the delusions surrounding Peach and Bowser Jr., and the repetitive cycle of kidnapping and confrontation that defines the Mario franchise.

Saturday, February 7, 2026

There needs to be an AVGN episode of Super Mario Bros.: The Lost Levels

I just finished The Lost Levels on the original Famicom version. I do not feel any guilt whatsoever about save-state scumming the game to achieve 100 percent completion. This includes beating the game eight times to unlock the bonus worlds. It is fortunate that Nintendo Switch Online includes rewind functionality, which allows the player to reverse time whenever they die. What makes this game unique is that it is essentially a troll game, deliberately designed to frustrate the player and actively induce an Angry Video Game Nerd–style rage, while laughing at the player in the process. Think of all the games AVGN becomes angry at due to incompetence or poor design decisions, and replace that with highly competent designers who are deliberately trying to provoke the same emotional response as a practical joke. The long-running joke about Super Mario Bros. 3 being “the Devil’s game” is far more applicable to The Lost Levels, as its designers are consciously cruel to the player. It is the personification of an evil game. What is particularly striking is how the game actively punishes muscle memory and competence developed from the original Super Mario Bros. The player is forced to unlearn what the first game taught them. A simple jump that would succeed every time in the original game now results in hitting an invisible block and falling to one’s death. These invisible blocks are deliberately placed where experienced players instinctively jump, specifically targeting veteran players rather than newcomers. The original Super Mario Bros. encouraged exploration. Entering a green pipe often led to a hidden sub-level filled with bonus coins, teaching players to investigate every pipe for secrets. In The Lost Levels, the player jumps down a pipe expecting to enter it, only to find that it leads nowhere. When they attempt to escape, they hit two invisible blocks and die by a Piranha plant popping out. This philosophy extends throughout the game through the infamous poison mushroom, backward warp pipes, and wind physics that disrupt familiar jump timing. There are trampoline levels where Mario is launched off-screen, forcing the player to estimate where they will land with no visual reference, which feels fundamentally unfair. Other trampolines have altered physics and fail to provide the expected height, requiring extremely precise timing to clear jumps. Some sections are impossible to complete as Big Mario, forcing the player to intentionally take damage and proceed as Small Mario. Later levels demand pixel-perfect landings on single blocks or precise timing to chain jumps across multiple Paratroopas. One particularly egregious example involves a running jump to land on a green pipe that is completely off screen. Upon landing, a Piranha Plant immediately emerges, guaranteeing damage. The only way to survive is to slowly inch toward the ledge to scroll the camera until the pipe becomes visible, then time the jump so the Piranha Plant is retracted. This solution is impossible to discover without dying first. Even if the player is skilled enough to complete the game, they are then required to beat it eight times to unlock Worlds A through D. This requirement was mercifully removed in Super Mario All-Stars. It is easy to imagine the Angry Video Game Nerd’s jaw dropping when, after immense frustration in completing the game, he realises he must do it seven more times. Is this a bad game? In its original form, I think the answer is yes. In an era limited to three lives and no save system, death meant restarting from the beginning. The game contains unavoidable death traps that cannot be survived on a first playthrough and require memorisation to progress. Being killed by an unavoidable trap and sent back to the early levels is already punishing enough. Requiring the entire game to be completed eight times in a single uninterrupted play history to access bonus worlds, which are themselves brutally difficult, is pure sadism. I cannot imagine anyone achieving full completion on the original Famicom without leaving the console powered on for weeks, repeatedly practising without ever turning the system off, as doing so would reset the completion counter. In fact, it is difficult to even consider The Lost Levels a conventional game. Gameplay does not feel like the primary purpose of its existence. Instead, it functions as a sophisticated prank. One can easily imagine the developers designing this game, watching focus-group playtesters fall into trap after trap, and laughing at their suffering. It is easy to picture an evil, demonic Mario taunting the Angry Video Game Nerd as he repeatedly dies. However, in the modern era of save states and rewind features provided by emulation or Nintendo Switch Online, many of these complaints lose their severity. I would actually recommend players experience The Lost Levels, not as a traditional video game, but as an artistic statement. It may be one of the most artistically interesting Mario games ever made. Most Mario games prioritise fun through refined gameplay mechanics. While some argue that the Galaxy games introduce atmosphere and narrative depth, these claims are somewhat overstated. The atmosphere and story may be advanced for a Mario title, but they remain superficial by broader video game standards. The Lost Levels, by contrast, presents a uniquely original artistic statement within the medium. The game is a practical joke played on the player. Its purpose is to lure the player into developer-designed traps and kill them. In its original form, this induces rage. With the modern removal of consequences through save states and rewind mechanics, the meaning changes. Instead of pure frustration, the experience becomes a shared joke. The developers laugh at the player’s expense, and the player responds, “That was a clever prank, you got me,” before laughing along and continuing. Through this lens, The Lost Levels may have evolved into one of the most original and compelling experiences in video game history. It may be an awful game in traditional terms, but it is also one of the medium’s great artistic experiments. There are many games out there that are hard, but The Lost Levels is unique in the fact that it is hard by subverting expectations and deceiving the players which is the video game equivalent of slapstick comedy. One can even see how it directly paved the way for Mario ROM hacks and Mario Maker troll levels, where sadistic design is no longer accidental but celebrated.

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

My Top 10 Christmas songs

10. Kate Bush – Home For Christmas – A rare B-side from Kate Bush. A charming short acoustic ballad with horn backing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9I7M-nR978 9. Ben Folds – Bizarre Christmas Incident – A dark comical tune regarding an overweight Santa Claus getting trapped in the chimney and dying https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N12iwI-suvM 8. The Beach Boys - Little Saint Nick – Maybe it’s a rewrite of Little Deuce Coupe but it has the best vocal harmonies in this list. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbgxDgVmMF0 7. The Flaming Lips – Christmas At The Zoo – It’s set in Christmas rather than Christmas but it is a touching song about opening up the cage in the zoo and the animals refusing to leave preferring captivity over freedom. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3mRC-foSZs 6. Willie Nelson – Pretty Paper – Beautiful song about a disabled man selling wrapping paper on the streets. I prefer the acoustic version from the “Hill Country Christmas” album, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klD8E4fu1ao 5. Joni Mitchell – River – Breakup song that is set at Christmas. I love the melancholic usage of the Jingle Bell melody which reflects the lyrical content of the song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLHxxBTl71I 4. John Lennon & Yoko Ono - Happy Xmas (War Is Over) – A bit preachy and maybe Yoko Ono’s vocals are a bit loud but it’s a classic song and melodies nevertheless. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yN4Uu0OlmTg 3. The Who – Christmas – The best defence of the nonsense plot of Tommy was from Jeff Blehar’s political beat is that it’s an album where the plot doesn’t make sense but emotionally makes sense. It is a touching story of a parent looking after an intellectually disabled child during Christmas and seeing the child being isolated while other kids are having fun and feeling helpless and pleading for its salvation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mu8ZA6GUBlk 2. Sparks - Thank God It's Not Christmas – Probably my favourite song on this list but it doesn’t seem appropriate to put in number 1 considering it’s about disliking Christmas as it forces him to spend time with his partner/family that the character dislikes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEBRzrYKifU 1. Elvis Presley - Santa Claus Is Back in Town – Elvis’ Christmas Album particularly Side A is quite underrated and may well be the beginning of the idiosyncratic Christmas album that foreshadows the likes of Bob Dylan and Jethro Tull’s Christmas album. Instead of the clean-cut traditional standard Christmas songs. We have the 12-bar rhythm and blues, double entendre and a powerful Elvis voice dripping with charisma that would have likely been considered subversive at the time (Irving Berlin tried to have this entire album and his cover of White Christmas banned from radio airplay) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ae7CtryWCkc

The Best Version of "Smile"

I’ve been thinking about the ongoing debate over which version of Smile is best—The Beach Boys’ Smile Sessions or Brian Wilson’s 2004 Smile. I recently watched the 2-DVD set: https://www.discogs.com/release/3353665-Brian-Wilson-Smile My personal pick is now the live performance at Center Staging in Burbank, California, recorded on 26 September 2004 and featured on the second DVD. It arguably surpasses both studio recordings. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UbNwhm2EX8 It might be one of the most “upgradable” live performances thanks to the visual component. When listening to densely complex music with multiple instruments and layered vocal parts, it’s easy to appreciate the overall sound while missing the intricate individual elements that comprise it. That’s one of the joys of great, complex music: the magic of repeat listening and “discovering” new parts you hadn’t consciously noticed before—even after hundreds of listens. But the Smile live performance on that DVD might be the greatest shortcut to appreciating such detail. You don’t need to listen hundreds of times to discover the intricacies of the work. The camera continually alternates between musicians, perfectly syncing with instrumental and vocal entries. When a new section begins, the camera cuts to whoever is contributing that part, helping the viewer become fully aware of the dense arrangements and harmonies. The DVD draws attention to every important moment that might otherwise pass by in a purely audio experience. You can even see the exact instrument—or sometimes inanimate object—creating a particular sound. It was an absolute joy to watch, and one of the most transformative visual experiences I’ve had in terms of deepening my appreciation for an album. Brian Wilson is also in top form throughout. I didn’t notice any obvious vocal flubs or tuning issues. It’s certainly a more polished vocal performance than when I’ve seen him live. And if there was overdubbing involved, I honestly don’t care—authenticity isn’t the point here; it’s about appreciating the brilliance of the music. I’m not sure if ripping the audio from the DVD would result in a version superior to the studio recordings, but as a complete audiovisual product, this is, in my opinion, the best way to experience Smile. I’ll also add that the first DVD—documenting the original unfinished album and the eventual resurrection of Smile leading up to the 2004 London concert—is deeply compelling. The stress of being rejected by his bandmates over the Smile project (and, I suspect, drug use) led to Brian Wilson’s first psychotic break, which caused the album to be abandoned and left unfinished. The resurrection of Smile was essentially Brian’s attempt to heal from that trauma. The film captures his PTSD-like struggles while compiling and rehearsing the material. There’s a particularly moving scene showing a vocal rehearsal where Brian sits in a dissociated state, while bandmates express concern about his disengagement. Later, he gradually finds the strength and focus to fully commit to rehearsals. The film also reveals that he experienced a return of depression with psychotic features, including command auditory hallucinations instructing him to harm himself. He also had an ED presentation due to a panic attack. His wife and the band were seriously concerned about whether his mental health could withstand the process. Leading up to the concert, Brian was reportedly calling people anxiously, fearing the performance would fail. In a bonus interview, he describes panicking 30 minutes before going on stage and wanting to cancel—but then using meditation to get through the moment and perform. The documentary ends with a triumphant performance, and Brian reflects that, through it, he was finally able to lay his demons to rest. I have to say—it was a deeply inspiring watch.

RIP Brian Wilson

RIP Brian Wilson The Beach Boys aren’t just one of my all-time favourite rock groups. The story of Brian Wilson, along with those of other musicians and composers who have struggled with mental illness, is part of the reason I chose the occupation I’m in today. I had the pleasure of seeing Brian Wilson perform twice: first with the Beach Boys’ 50th Anniversary Reunion Tour in 2012, and then on his solo Pet Sounds 50th Anniversary Tour in 2016, where he was joined by Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin. I remember seeing Brian Wilson shuffling on stage with a parkinsonian gait, masked facies, and clear signs of tardive dyskinesia (involuntary mouth movements). It was apparent that he had endured significant exposure to antipsychotic medications over his lifetime. Brian was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, and his mental health struggles have been well documented. The film Love & Mercy vividly depicts his psychotic break during the 1960s and the subsequent exploitation he suffered under psychologist Eugene Landy. Landy exercised abusive control over Brian’s life for years, including administering excessive doses of antipsychotic medications as part of his manipulation made the sight of witnessing the physical lasting consequences of his abuse he receive quite emotionally moving. The celebration of Brian Wilson’s performances during those concerts was never really about his vocal performance, which had significantly deteriorated, with his bandmates and supporting vocalists carrying much of the musical load. Rather, it was the fact that he was still performing at all — after everything he had endured — that made it so inspiring. His resilience, recovery from severe mental illness, and ability to perform in his later years is what moved audiences far more than any technical musical quality. He wrote some of the most beautiful, uplifting, and optimistic music — music that often felt too beautiful for this world, and perhaps for his own life experiences. But the song I want to highlight is Til I Die, which Brian has said he wrote while feeling deeply depressed and preoccupied with death. In the song, he laments his insignificance and powerlessness: he is "the cork on the ocean," "the rock in a landslide," "the leaf on a windy day." He asks, “How deep is the ocean? How deep is the valley?” — implying that the depths of his depression could feel endless. The resignation in the line, “These things I’ll be until I die,” reflects the hopelessness he felt at the time — the fear that the darkness might never lift. That Brian was ultimately able to recover, find happiness in marriage, complete the once-lost Smile album, and return to touring and performing is what makes his story and watching him perform live so profoundly inspiring. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46IQu0yuJzU

Monday, December 25, 2023

Story of my son’s musical journey so far

My son's journey started immediately after birth. As he entered the new world he was crying furiously. Perhaps all the time he heard his dad singing when he was in the womb paid off and when he heard myself singing John Lennon’s Beautiful Boy he immediately stopped crying and locked eye contact with myself. During the early stages of his life, I thought it was a good opportunity to finally complete a discography listen of Brian Eno’s career, in particular his ambient work which I haven’t completely explored previously. The rationale was that now that we have a newborn baby, perhaps having some easy-listening background music would have a calming effect. However, the reality was that it had a relatively neutral effect on the baby and wasn’t as calming and soothing as anything else. However soon I learnt that anything with a strong rhythm or beat, he responded well to. While I can’t speak for other parent’s experience with newborns, I do wonder whether this is universal. I speculate that when the foetus is in the womb, it will hear a loud rhythmic heartbeat as well as breathing and will regularly feel the mother walking around. Therefore, music with a strong emphasis on the beat that you can move and dance to will have a soothing effect as it replicates the environment of the womb. This created a switch of me playing highly energetic music to help soothe the baby and get it to sleep. I became the expert in getting the baby to sleep by putting energetic music on and then carrying the baby and starting to dance around the room. We often joke that he is my ballroom dancing partner. By the end of it, he will be fast asleep. I was far more likely to get the baby to sleep having something like AC/DC playing than gentle music. Hard rock/heavy metal, techno/electronic, and funk music were my son's initial taste in music. It became a regular game of me putting on music like Spark’s Tryout For The Human Race and then moving his arms and legs and creating dance/disco moves while he is lying in bed which normally results in him laughing and smiling. One thing I was proud of was playing King Crimson 21st Century Schizoid Man while holding my son jumping around the room headbanging and then during the extended instrumental jam, I started doing a Stravinsky-esque The Rite Of Spring-like dance. When the solo finished, and the heavy riff returned my son was fast asleep. Of course, while any music with a beat he responds to. There were certain songs that he responded well melodically. His number one favourite song as a baby was Anna (Go To Him) by The Beatles. He responded well hearing me belt out “All Of My Life, I’ve been searching for a girl” which resulted in sudden eye contact and him moving his mouth in sync with my singing. It became the number one song we played trying to soothe him and often he will stop crying even before we pick him up and dance if that song is playing. The bridge section becomes the common song I sing to calm him down. What’s funny is that his most hated song is the very next track on the album Please Please Me which is Chains. Whenever Anna (Go To Him) ends it goes automatically to the next song in the album and when he hears the opening harmonica he starts crying. He just wants to hear Anna (Go To Him) again and again and gets upset when another song interrupts him. As a result, we would often have that song on repeat/loop so that he could hear that song indefinitely. Now just when I thought I could start indoctrinating my son to my music taste. Unfortunately, my wife introduced him to nursery rhymes and children’s songs. Now his favourite songs are stuff like “Five Finger Family”, “Wheels On The Bus”, and “Baby Shark” and his favourite artist is “D Billions” which is a Kyrgyzstan kid's music group. Whenever I have music playing, my son completely ignores it but whenever a child's song is playing, he becomes interested. While lamenting my lack of influence on his music taste, there is a side benefit that it accelerated his language development and most likely contributed to his ability to say words and talk as his early words are often lyrics from songs such as “Where Are You” from Finger family or “round and round”. Now you can see him humming melodies from the song and he will make dance gestures from those songs. Ie. Bring out his hands and look at it when Finger family is on, or move his arms in a circle during the “round and round”. Now even when music isn’t playing he will walk around and occasionally hum those tunes. Despite being less than two years old it’s remarkably somewhat in tune. When we sing part of the song and then stop, he will attempt to complete the line. Bizarrely though one children's song he hates which is “Happy Birthday’ and he cries when we sing that song which is a trait I hope he grows with when he is older. Despite him having a different taste of music so far. I can identify similar music-listening traits to myself. If I abruptly stop the music he will cry out and throw a tantrum which mirrors my irritability if someone interrupts or forces me to stop playing music. It’s pretty clear that he has a developed imagination and that he often daydreams and plays those songs in his head. During childcare the staff will take pictures of them reading children's stories, my son will often be distracted and looking at his hand. He is daydreaming and playing the finger family song in his head. This mirrors myself daydreaming and playing music in my head at school, and university not listening to the teacher or lecturers. So, despite him ignoring 99.9% of “adult music”, I think currently he is a children’s music nerd which is a good prognosis that he’ll become a full-on music nerd when he is older. Regarding the 0.1% of “adult music” that he likes. The Beatle’s Anna (Go To Him) remains a special song. When I sing the bridge of the song and reach the part “What am I, what am I supposed to do?”, he will reply “na, na, na, na, na” to the same melody/tune of “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh”. This is the one remaining song that we can bond together and where there is overlap in our music taste. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3zNKWyLfus