Player vs. Player: Mario & Doopliss

Thanks to Wolfman Jew for help with edits, and Albator085 for the font used in the header. Oh, and spoilers for Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door.

I spent most of my life wanting to play The Thousand-Year Door. When you’re a chronically online Nintendo fan, the universal acclaim and its fans’ outcry for a true sequel are hard to ignore. Even worse, I’ve loved every Mario RPG I got my hands on, so it was rough knowing I’d have to make do without the supposed best of them all. Oh well, I’d be willing to live with that, if not for the fact I’d seen how fantastic TTYD is firsthand. Back in elementary school, I watched my older brother play through the entire thing on our Wii, as I wasn’t quite old enough to handle role-playing games yet. He beat it and returned the disc to GameStop immediately afterwards. Although I’d eventually play some GameCube games of my own (namely, Melee and the Shadow Pokémon games), I’d never get another chance to play TTYD, and I regretted that.

On the bright side, a bit of the game’s boundless creativity stuck with me. There were specific things I hadn’t forgotten about years after the fact, some important and others negligible. A Lord Crump here, a Glitz Pit (and its GBA-themed computers) there, and so on. But more than anything, I distinctly remembered the setting and events of Chapter 4: For Pigs the Bell Tolls. For my money, it’s the most inventive chapter of the most inventive Mario game, turning it on its head and putting our plumber in his most vulnerable position yet. Having finally revisited this arc and more via TTYD’s Switch remake, let’s discuss how Doopliss rises above his fellow chapter bosses to become one of the most memorable baddies Mario’s ever faced!

To stop the X-Nauts’ plans for world domination, Mario’s tasked with finding the seven Crystal Stars and preventing the revival of a thousand-year-old demon. The third of them already put a neat spin on this formula, seeing the party infiltrating a dodgy fighting tournament instead of your usual boss den. Just as notable, though, is how “Of Glitz and Glory” shows a varied cast of foes—all fully disconnected from the broader X-Naut plot. Rawk Hawk’s just a crooked wrestling champ, Grubba’s a selfish oldster with more power than he deserves, and Bowser’s only here to make the climb a bit rougher. Not all these ruffians know or care about the Stars, which makes the world around Rogueport feel livelier and gives it an edge other Mario games lack.

That brings us back to Chapter 4 and the perpetually moonlit Twilight Town. The macabre music and gloomy denizens might tip you off to something being wrong, but those are normal. The real problem is that all the townsfolk are being turned into pigs every time a distant bell rings. One at a time, they watch their fellows become mindless animals and dread the thought of being next in line. It’s a scary situation, but also goofy (for one thing, it becomes a running gag that the one citizen we need out of the way transforms at the perfect time). Thus, Mario reaches Creepy Steeple—the source of the chiming—and encounters our monster at the top. Compared to the massive enemies we’ve dueled for Stars up till now, this guy’s kinda pathetic. His reason for cursing the town is nonexistent, and the devs didn’t even bother naming him (you already know that’s not true, but let me finish setting the stage). Sure, he turns into a purple Mario silhouette halfway through the fight, but that’s just a half-baked version of what his Duplighost species did last game. Pound him, take the prize off his limp body, try to ignore how creepy Mario suddenly looks, and move on. Huh, was this chapter some sort of Greatfish Isle situation?!

If you haven’t already guessed, the villain actually switched places with Mario, tricked his party, and left our formless protagonist on the floor. Copying other people is standard Duplighost fare, but elevating that to body snatching is the sort of upgrade I’d expect from a sequel as great as this one. With the plumber alone for longer than he’ll ever have to be in this game, it’s easy to get a little worried about Twilight Town. Whether or not the curse lifted is a mystery, and now the one behind it is heading there under the guise of the hero. What’s he gonna do under Mario’s name, and with our partners at his command? As it turns out, he’s having too good a time being popular to do anything wicked, and the town really is back to normal. It’s a fun subversion, and the tension is still here since he’s looking to silence the real Mario for good. Luckily, that’s where Vivian comes in, our new partner, former enemy, and this arc’s other secret sauce. There’s another thing I love about TTYD’s rogues’ gallery: their motivations are so all over the place that a few are willing to defect and join our cause. It goes a long way in showing us that, while there are plenty of self-serving people in this world, there are just as many willing to sacrifice a lot to do the right thing.

Having literally stolen Mario’s name, the boss taunts his victim by calling him “Slick.” Paired with his insults and general cruelty, it motivates us to knock him down a peg.

With Vivian’s help, Mario learns his doppelgänger’s name and only weakness: “Doopliss.” It’s time to ascend Creepy Steeple once more and end this, but Doopliss brought a few friends—ours. Chapter 4’s final battle is against Mario’s body and all the companions he’s gathered so far, while we’re working with a shadowy shell of the man and an ex-villain. Role reversals are very cool, and this pulls it off perfectly. You could go straight for the leader, but I preferred to draw the battle out and take it all in. Sooner or later, Doopliss and his mask fall, Mario returns to normal, and the Crystal Star is finally ours. Yeah, while future chapters have their own highlights, this was an unforgettable quest for both a young spectator and modern player. A few oddities aside (the pre-remake backtracking or Vivian’s failure to recognize the face Doopliss snagged, for instance), vignettes like this are what made me recognize Mario as a legend worth his fame all those years ago.

Even if a recolor was equipped before Doopliss’s body snatch, he always rocks Mario’s red and blue in the original TTYD. The remake correcting this was a pleasant surprise.

But is this game’s excellence really Mario’s doing? We revere it for its creative mechanics and detailed world, but the hero at its center is even less dynamic than usual. Super Mario RPG’s depiction can be hilariously aggro and Mario & Luigi’s a lovable big brother, meaning the most prolific, papery plumber of the three is also the plainest. If I had to nail down one thing that’s wholly this Mario’s, it’d be his charisma. NPCs always respect his unrelenting dedication, bravery, and wisdom, but TTYD goes a step further, seeing so many allies—fawning girls especially—rallying behind him. Though, said charisma is only present because other characters act like it is, not because Mario necessarily exudes it. Nonetheless, Doopliss swipes all this goodwill for himself and turns it against us, but even that isn’t enough to stop Mario from lending Vivian a hand and earning yet another friend. Complaints aside, I’ve gotta admit that those friends really make up for their captain’s passable performance. Goombella is practically protagonist material, Mowz is a neat optional addition (couple that with her whole thief schtick, and I can’t help but compare her to FFVII’s Yuffie), Bobbery is incredibly useful and endearing, and Yoshi’s variable name and colors add a dash of ourselves to our ranks.

Speaking of customization, Mario’s got that in spades! For one, collectible badges allow us to replace his palette with Luigi’s, Wario’s, or Waluigi’s, which is so refreshing. I’ve stared at that red hat for countless hours in other games, so you can bet I swapped it out as soon as I could (the remake even adds a golden recolor to the pile, which makes for a decent completion reward). Beyond aesthetics, badges make Mario a canvas that you’re free to do whatever you want with. Strengthen the main man himself, his partners, their items, toss some useful boons on top of all that, and Mario starts to feel a lot more exciting. Zap Tap was a favorite of mine, shocking all direct attackers and leaning the hero into something of a tank role (even better, its lightning bolts really matched Wario’s outfit). On second thought, if a Mario with less to say is the price for a combat system as fun and open ended as TTYD’s, I’d take that trade any day.

When we next encounter Doopliss, he’s teamed up with Vivian’s X-Naut-aligned sisters to nab the sixth Crystal Star. However, the eldest Beldam’s made him her new punching bag, and he doesn’t have the guts Vivian had to ditch her. It’s cathartic, seeing him go from a smug schemer who reveled in no one knowing his name to a pitiful goon who’s desperate for people to remember it. Irony aside, he’s still a threat, using a disguise to sneak aboard the Excess Express and sabotage its journey. He doesn’t stick around for a rematch, but he does steal a fake Star and make out like an idiot through the window he smashed. At this point, it’s starting to look like he’s washed, but he’s got one more trick up his sleeve…

After blasting off to the moon, raiding the X-Nauts’ base, securing the final Crystal Star, and getting help from another defector, Mario returns to Rogueport and sees a rare sight: his guide Professor Frankly out of his house. He tells the plumber that the bad guys, with Peach in tow, managed to open the Thousand-Year Door—the one keeping that demon contained and only unlockable via the Stars they definitely don’t have. Without stopping to consider the logic behind that, Mario opens the titular gate and starts a harrowing trek through the Palace of Shadows. About halfway through, it’s boss gauntlet time! Gloomtail’s a solid overture and callback to the game’s first major battle, but I’m partial to what comes next. As it turns out, the Thousand-Year Door wasn’t opened by anyone other than Mario, and Frankly simply lied to his face. Except it was actually Doopliss, so we’ve finally reached our rematch with him and the rest of the Shadows. Another thing I can remember from my brother’s ancient playthrough is that old Goomba guy revealing himself to be the impersonator from before, so that’s one more nostalgia point for Doopliss. And context aside, this fight’s great for giving us more foes than there are active party members. Beldam’s magic, Marilyn’s bulk, and Doopliss’s impressions aren’t easy to deal with (especially if you’re looking to Tattle all of them), but they add up to a memorable last stand for these bozos.

With Doopliss defeated and his Tattle entries recorded, now’s a good time to discuss his design. Although his bowtie and hat are festive, he’s unassuming, much smaller than Hooktail or Macho Grubba, and could easily pass as a generic enemy. These work in his favor, further lowering your guard before his switcheroo and letting him smoothly transition from a chapter boss to a recurring cast member. Notably, his sheet-ghost body and party hat give him a childlike air, as if he’s just a kid playing dress-up. I’m a fan of how this contrasts Mario, whose attire reminds us he’s a hard-working plumber. The two even share a red-and-blue color scheme, daring us to compare them. While we’re talking parallels, I wonder if there are any to be drawn between both Mario and Peach getting their bodies hijacked in TTYD. At the very least, it’s interesting that they were both robbed by their polar opposites, what with Doopliss being a timid attention seeker and the Shadow Queen a heartless witch.

Concept art of Doopliss, as seen in the TTYD remake. Note the clown- and reaper-inspired looks, all of which had potential. As much as I love the final version, I wouldn’t have minded seeing him go ballistic with a scythe.

TTYD’s finale is as grand as you’d expect from such a wild adventure, including Doopliss and the other Shadows dropping in to watch their plans come to fruition. Sure, that’s all he contributes to the scene, but I’m still glad he remains relevant all the way to the end. And after the party go their separate ways, he seems to finally realize there’s a better way to gain popularity than joining a cult. As Flurrie returns to acting and begins recounting her and Mario’s quest, the Duplighost takes on the role of the very man he impersonated. Maybe his time copying famous actor Zip Toad rubbed off on him? Regardless, my comrade Wolfman finds it fascinating that he lands this career in a game where Mario’s fights have him performing for a crowd. To some extent, this game and the greater franchise have always been about storytelling and theater, so acting’s a fitting endpoint for someone as expressive as Doopliss. After all, there’s something to be said about an understudy whose personality outshines the original’s and makes him a favorite in his own right. That’s usually Luigi’s job, but I can get behind a reformed villain trying his hand at it. Now, as much as I’m emphasizing what’s just a piece of a greater ending, I’m still hoping the TTYD remake means we could eventually see these characters again.

As for Mario, I’m starting to get why his idleness is so important to these games. This is the first time I’ve centered half a “Player vs. Player” entry on a silent protagonist, probably because it’s a trope I don’t usually like. And while I didn’t mean to use the plumber as a way to examine the archetype, he helped me understand why it can be valuable. When an overworld has as much life poured into it as the one surrounding Rogueport, it’s only right that we’d be allowed to explore it through an impartial lens. Mario’s as new to all this as we are, and he lets us come to our own conclusions about what we find. Conversely, the protagonists of Bug Fables—a successor to classic Paper Mario and favorite of mine—tend to lean us toward their conclusions. By voicing what they think of certain people and places, we’re encouraged to share their opinions. It makes for a more engaging story, but TTYD’s approach arguably makes for a better game. If nothing else, that really personifies Mario and his parent company’s mission statement.

Although Mario and Doopliss don’t foil each other as thoroughly as some of my other “PvP” subjects do, they’re both emblematic of a game I couldn’t resist spotlighting. The former gives us everything we need to make the most of an unfamiliar land, while the latter represents the very best and worst of that land. With little more screen time than a chapter boss could hope to have, Doopliss comes shockingly close to ruining Mario, then remains a constant thorn in his side for the rest of the adventure. My younger self remembered him more than anyone else, and I think that’s proof of how successful an antagonist he is. As much as I’d love to see future Mario games adopt him, I’d be just as willing to see them take similar risks when giving the hero new rivals. And with the Switch having ushered in a new era of creativity for Nintendo’s flagship (a Brothership, if you will), I’m confident we’ll be seeing just that in the coming years.