By any standard measure, I’m relatively new to the Monster Hunter series. I steered clear of the games for years because they were confined to handheld consoles I wasn’t interested in—and, quite honestly, they seemed to perform poorly.
The game that opened my eyes to the series was Monster Hunter World, and it’s what hooked me. Since then, I’ve become an avid fan. I’ve poured over two dozen hours into Wilds as I’m writing this, choosing to tackle the main campaign before diving into the sidequests. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a disappointment.
Typically, Monster Hunter campaigns aren’t celebrated for their gripping narratives or clever setups. They’re primarily there to walk you through the tutorials of the myriad systems and mechanics you’ll depend on for the next 100-plus hours of gameplay. In terms of structure, they guide you through the game’s array of creatures.
The pattern is usually the same: your team is on the hunt for a mysterious monster whose presence is causing disturbances in the regions you explore. Along the way, you face interruptions from various other monsters, and eventually, you uncover the mystery behind your initial target. Then, you confront the big boss, complete the campaign, and the real Monster Hunter experience begins with High Rank.
In a general sense, this formula applies to Wilds’ campaign just as much as it does to World’s. However, it’s in the specifics that one story can provide a thrilling adventure while the other barely resonates.
What made World’s campaign stand out was its core premise. Zorah Magdaros was a creature unlike any other—a behemoth so massive that it took an entire village to slow it down. Its sheer size allowed for battles with multiple other monsters on its back, with plenty of room to spare.
This was clearly a bold attempt by the developers to present a new type of encounter in Monster Hunter. Many players didn’t embrace it. Engaging Zorah Magdaros meant constructing intricate defenses, managing cannons to chip away at its health, and doing things not typically associated with a Monster Hunter game.
But I appreciated these aspects precisely for their uniqueness. Zorah’s distinct gameplay sections managed to break any potential monotony of battling monster after monster before it could even start. The game cleverly used Zorah’s journey across the world to drive the story forward.
Each time it moved to a different part of the map, that area would unlock for exploration. This allowed players to witness the impact of Zorah’s passing on the local environment. The game maintained a shroud of mystery about Zorah’s true destination throughout the campaign, giving the unfolding story a sense of urgency and intrigue.
Contrast that with the Wilds campaign. There’s no equivalent to Zorah, no overwhelming threat looming over the world. Arkveld, the flagship monster, makes sporadic appearances, doing things the characters can’t fully explain, only to disappear for another few hours. It doesn’t even serve as the final boss— that title belongs to a dormant giant, whose existence is revealed just one mission prior.
The campaign lacks the sensation of diverse groups banding together to combat a shared threat. Some of the monster introductions feel like Capcom didn’t quite know how to present them naturally, leading to sudden encounters shoehorned into certain missions.
There’s a palpable sense that elements meant to connect the various character groups were originally planned but ultimately removed. NPC conversations and snippets of dialogue in cutscenes hint at a deeper story that never fully materializes.
Even the enigma surrounding the ancient civilization and their weather-controlling technology feels more like intermittent, disjointed cutscenes rather than a compelling tale within the game itself.
The issues within the Wilds campaign seem to mirror the overarching problems with the game: it loses some of its charm; it smooths over the rough edges, ostensibly to enhance accessibility. However, I’m not convinced these were the aspects that needed addressing.
As we delve deeper into what Wilds has to offer—both the triumphs and the missteps—the main campaign might fade into the background, but I can’t help but wonder what a true sequel to World’s campaign might have looked like.
