Summary
The GameCube was a bit of a misunderstood gem in its heyday, stuck between the PS2 juggernaut and the rising Xbox while also being shaped like a lunchbox that screamed “handle with care.” But despite not topping sales charts, it housed some ofNintendo’s boldest, strangest, and most enduring experiments.
Now, decades later, a handful of these games still play like they never left. Some aged like wine, and others like yogurt, but these particular GmeCube games are practically immortal when compared.
Luigi might’ve gotten the “scaredy-cat” treatment compared to his brother, butLuigi’s Mansiongave him something better—a personality. This charmingly spooky ghost-hunting adventure holds up far better than anyone expected. Part of that comes down tothe game’s unusually atmospheric design. The entire mansion feels like a character, boasting creaking floorboards, dynamic lighting, and a sense of space that makes every room feel hand-crafted.
This was a launch title, and it had dust particles swirling in flashlight beams and subtle environmental storytelling baked into the wallpaper. Combat was puzzle-like, involving weakening ghosts by revealing their hearts and then wrangling them like spectral marlins with the Poltergust 3000. Even by today’s standards, it’s tactile and satisfying. What’s aged best here isn’t just the visuals or the gameplay loop—it’s the mood. This is a family-friendly horror game that managed to feel playful and eerie at the same time, and somehow, two decades later, it still has more charm in its pinky finger than most modern haunted house games.
Nintendo brought this title back with a remaster, but it didn’t really need fixing.The Thousand-Year Doorholds up because it was never relying on visuals or gimmicks in the first place. The heart of this game lies in its razor-sharp writing, hilarious world-building, andturn-based combat systemthat actually rewards timing and strategy over button-mashing.
From wrestling under the alias of “The Great Gonzales” to navigating a town literally built atop a criminal underground, this game constantly messes with RPG conventions in ways that still feel fresh. It juggled comedy and creepiness with whimsy and dread, sometimes within the same scene. And somehow, every side character, even the weird little ones like Ms. Mowz or Doopliss, had more depth than entire casts in other RPGs. If anything, its return in 2024 only proved how little needed to change. Everything from the snappy dialogue to the stage-battle presentation still feels clever today, becauseThe Thousand-Year Doorwas never just trying to follow trends; it was too busy setting them.
Resident Evil 4didn’t just age well; it changed the aging process entirely. When this dropped on the GameCube, it reinvented third-person shooters by shifting the camera over the shoulder and tightening the action. That “tightness” stilldefines modern horror-action gamestoday, but even beyond its influence, the original version still plays beautifully, especially if players go back to the Wii or GameCube ports for the rawest version of the experience.
What helps it hold up isn’t just nostalgia or its industry impact. It’s that it still knows how to build dread in between action set-pieces. The opening village siege still feels overwhelming in the best way, and those pitchfork-wielding Ganados are just as aggressive as ever. The pacing is immaculate—backtracking through a previously cleared area only to hear that chainsaw rev again is enough to spike one’s blood pressure in 2025, just like it did in 2005. Even with remakes and re-releases galore, the originalResident Evil 4still stands tall, remaining weirdly humorous and mechanically pristine. When a horror-action hybrid works this well, time just can’t kill it.
Super Mario Sunshinewas a wild swing for Nintendo, and most of it connected. The tropical aesthetics still look gorgeous even today, and not in a “for its time” kind of way. The water physics were also legitimately ahead of the curve. The world of Isle Delfino still feels alive, featuring NPCs who react to Mario’s actions and environments that are interconnected rather than stitched together like discrete levels. Then there’s FLUDD. What should’ve been a gimmick turned into one of Mario’s most versatile toolkits ever, letting players jetpack across gaps, clean up messes, and hover with precision. It’s also what gives the platforming here a unique rhythm—one that hasn’t been replicated since.
Sunshineis a game that dares to be messy, literally and figuratively. It might lack the polished cohesion ofGalaxyorOdyssey, but the fact thatpeople are still speedrunning it, debating it, and defending it passionately speaks volumes. For a platformer this experimental to still hold interest after 20 years, it’s simply impossible to suggest that it aged poorly.
This GameCube title didn’t just age well; it fossilized into a competitive artifact.Super Smash Bros. Meleestill commands a thriving tournament scene two decades later, despite the fact that it was never meant to be an Esports darling. In fact, the very reasons it’s loved—incredible movement tech, ridiculously precise hitboxes, and brutal execution barriers—are all happy accidents.
Wave-dashing, L-canceling, Directional Influence—these aren’t just mechanics, they’re rituals, and they’re only possible inMelee. The game runs at 60 frames per second with near-zero input delay, which is why, no matter how pretty the new entries look, competitive players keep coming back to this one. But even outside of the pro scene,Meleehasaged remarkably well as a party game. Its roster is timeless, its stages are iconic, and its pace is blistering. It’s one of those rare cases where unintentional complexity became its greatest strength.
First-personMetroidsounded like heresy in the early 2000s, butMetroid Primedidn’t just justify the format; it nailed it so hard that it’s still the gold standard. Retro Studios somehow translated the series’ 2D isolation and exploration into a fully 3D space without losing its soul. In fact, some argue it enhanced it.
The HUD is seen through Samus’s visor, complete with scan logs and moisture droplets. The sound design is muted and alien, filled with ambient hums and synth pulses. And exploration is deliberate, almost meditative, as players loop back with new tools to crack open previously inaccessible paths. It’s not about blasting everything in sight; it’s about deciphering a planet’s secrets. Even today,Metroid Primefeels unusually immersive. It doesn’t hold your hand or rush; it just quietly builds its world one scan at a time, letting players piece together its quiet sci-fi melancholy. When people say a game was “ahead of its time,” this is what they mean.
Back in 2002, people weren’t ready forThe Wind Waker. After the brooding tone ofOcarinaandMajora, a cartoonish Link with googly eyes and exaggerated animations felt like a betrayal to some fans. But those complaints aged faster than milk, because this game’s visual style proved to be timeless.
The cel-shaded look wasn’t just aesthetic flair; it was a deliberate choice to create a world that could outlast trends. And it worked.Wind Wakerstill looks stunning, even before theHDremaster was released. The ocean sparkles, the clouds cast shadows across waves, and Link’s expressions sell every moment of curiosity, fear, or triumph. That said, there’s more here than just surface beauty.The open sea invites explorationin a way no otherZeldatitle did at the time. The Great Sea felt huge and mysterious, and even though the sailing segments get flak for being slow, they give players the space to soak in the game’s melancholic tone. The ruins of Hyrule lie beneath the waves, and every island feels like a remnant of something lost.
