The World Design of Banjo-Kazooie

Rare's N64 pair gets the Boss Keys treatment

For the last few years, my Boss Keys video series has been about contiguous, interconnected, maze-like worlds in games such as Metroid Prime, Hollow Knight, and Elden Ring.

So you might be surprised to see me feature a pair of colourful collect-a-thon platformers with disconnected worlds.

But there’s a method to my madness.

You see, while Banjo-Kazooie is definitely divided into distinct levels with little-to-no overlap, the sequel, Banjo-Tooie, is far more interconnected and complex. Almost all of the levels join up through shortcuts and secret routes. Changes in one level can impact events in another. And you'll be routinely backtracking to old stages to solve puzzles and collect objects.

It is, at times, a Metroidvania.

But is that actually an improvement over the first game - or just needless complexity added to a winning formula? Let’s find out.

Now before we can talk about Banjo-Tooie, we have to start at the start and look at the first game of the series: Banjo-Kazooie.

Banjo-Kazooie

This Nintendo 64 gem (though, the screenshots in this post come from the Xbox Live Arcade edition) started life as an isometric adventure game, about a boy and a bunch of pirates, for the Super Nintendo. But after switching hardware, and seeing how Nintendo had changed the platforming paradigm with Super Mario 64, the game radically shifted to become a 3D platformer about a bear with a bird in his backpack.

And that Mario 64 inspo can be felt pretty strongly. The game features a sprawling hub world - this time, its the lair of series baddie Gruntilda the Witch. The hub lets you can transport to a collection of uniquely themed-worlds - like an Egyptian desert and a snowy Christmas land. Inside you'll collect shiny golden tokens - jigsaw pieces and musical notes, rather than stars and coins. And those tokens give you access to new parts of the hub, and, in turn, new worlds.

Plus, while there's loads of stuff to find and do if you want to completely, 100% finish the game - you only need a few power sta... I mean jiggies, to face the final boss and finish the game.

But Banjo is definitely not a straight rip-off. Banjo and Kazooie feel quite different to control when compared to Mario. The whole game has a snarky, British sense of humour. You're not booted out of worlds when finding jiggies - something Mario wouldn't change until Odyssey. And I'd say the game leans slightly more on puzzle-focused challenges, and less on ones that reward pure platforming prowess.

The Levels

So, the game features nine levels - there's Mumbo's Mountain, Treasure Trove Cove, Clanker's Cavern, Bubblegloop Swamp, Freezeezy Peak, Gobi's Valley, Mad Monster Mansion, Rusty Bucket Bay, and Click Clock Wood - all culminating in a totally unorthodox final level: a high-stakes gameshow featuring trivia related to the game you just played.

These levels are fairly small and compact - but even still, they feature a number of clever tricks to help you orient yourself in the level.

Stages are usually split into distinct zones - like Gobi's oasis, sphinx, and pyramids - to break the level into organised chunks. You also get plenty of weenies - you know, those giant landmarks that provide a consistent visual guide, no matter where you are in the stage. Some levels use a hub and spoke system - like Bubblegloop Swamp where the five different zones fan off from a single central area.

And while all of the levels feature additional sub-rooms - they are always accessed from clearly identifiable doorways - like the pyramids in Gobi's Valley and the boat in Rusty Bucket Bay. So it's easy to remember where they are.

All of this stuff makes it easy to know where you have and haven't been in the level. And they help you return to places you've already visited - which you may need to do at certain times. For instance, some levels feature environments that are impossible for Banjo and Kazooie to traverse - like super slippery slopes in the hill on Mumbo's Mountain. However, Banjo can unlock helpful transformations - like a walrus that can survive icy water or a termite that can, aha, crawl up slippery slopes. Now you can go back to that area and make further progress.

Interconnectivity

Now, much like Mario 64, the levels are separate and standalone. What happens in Mad Monster Mansion stays in Mad Monster Mansion. But there are a few exceptions to this rule.

Like, in every level you are able to collect all 10 jiggies before moving on to the next stage, if you so wish. However, in world five - Freezeezy Peak - there's a jiggy that requires the Turbo Trainers which won't be unlocked until world six - Gobi's Valley. This makes it the one instance where you can't get all 10 tokens on your first visit, and so you'll have to go back to a previously-explored world if you want all the jiggies in the game.

There's also at least one moment where your actions in one level will have an impact on another: if you annoy Gobi the camel in Gobi's Valley, he'll leave and show up in a later level. But if you ignore that quest line, he won't appear.

Also, each level has a button that will make a jiggy appear in the hub world - so you'll have to remember to track it down when you exit the stage.

And you can actually leave levels while transformed - which can be used to solve puzzles in the hub. The termite transformation can be used to scale a steep hill outside Mumbo's Mountain, for instance, and the pumpkin from Mad Monster Mansion is needed to squeeze through a small gap.

Click Clock Wood

And there's also one level that cleverly shifts and changes, depending on how you enter the world. I'm talking about the... sometimes polarising ninth level, Click Clock Wood.

You open this level by hitting a flower switch - and go inside to find a giant tree during the rainy spring season. Climb to the top of the tree and you'll find a sun button that will open another door in the hub. Which - when entered - will bring you back to the exact same tree, but now in summer. There are bees about, the tree has new leaves, and the lake has dried up. Which gives you access to another button - and lets you come back to the level again, this time in autumn. And, of course, once more for winter.

Many of the jiggies in this level require you to solve puzzles across separate seasons. For example you can plant a seed in spring, water it in summer, and get a jiggy in autumn. Or hatch a baby bird in spring, feed it caterpillars in summer and autumn, and then watch it grow into a mighty eagle in the winter. And you can break a rock while the lake is dried up in summer... only to find that the path behind it is too steep. So you'll have to come back in autumn, when the water's back, and swim up to finally get your reward.

It's the sort of challenge that requires thoughtful consideration of the level and how it can change and adapt - and it rewards you for returning to the right place at the right time. It's a truly memorable level - reminiscent of Zelda dungeons, and those clever Mario 64 stages that change depending on how you enter the world.

It was also one of the hardest levels to make - according to designer Gregg Mayles who said it took twice as long as the other stages. And it's slightly infamous among some Banjo fans who find it more frustrating than fun due to the verticality, having to do the same tricky platforming in all different seasons, and the pain of falling down and having to do the whole thing aaaall over again.

It just goes to prove that it's easy for a clever idea to stumble due to implementation. A topic I'm sure we'll be returning to.

So overall, Banjo-Kazooie is a really fun collect-a-thon platformer - with memorable characters, collectables, and worlds - and a few clever ways to have the levels break out from their distinctly different zones.

But for the sequel, released two years later, Rare decided to make interconnectivity a key part of the game - ensuring that every world would have some connection to another part of the game.

Banjo Tooie’s Levels

But let's press pause on that for now - and start by talking about the levels individually and separately. Because we need to know how they work alone before talking about how they intersect. And also because some changes in Banjo-Tooie end up turning each level into a mini Metroidvania... of sorts.

So this time the eight levels are Mayahem Temple, Glitter Gulch Mine, Witchyworld, Jolly Roger's Lagoon, Terrydactyland, Grunty Industries, Hailfire Peaks, and Cloud Cuckooland - with another game show at the end to top things off.

This first change from Banjo one is that these new stages are - on the whole - much, much bigger. A level like Terrydactyland has a massive central chamber with a lot of verticality - and it splinters off into many different sub areas. And Hailfire Peaks takes place on a sprawling volcano that is roughly the size of a Banjo-Kazooie level... before you realise that this is only half of the stage - and there's a whole icy expanse on the reverse.

All of the levels now have four warp points throughout to help speed up traversal, but little else is done to help with navigation.

While I just praised Banjo-Kazooie for its level layouts that aid orientation, I often found it extremely difficult to find my way around in Banjo-Tooie. For example, in levels like Terrydactyland, Glitter Gulch Mine, and Hailfire Peaks, I could never remember, even across two whole playthroughs for this video, which nondescript tunnels led to which sub-rooms. And I routinely got lost in the maze-like underwater chambers of Jolly Rogers Lagoon.

One stage stands out as a proud exception, though: Witchyworld.

Taking influence from real-life theme parks, this level has a helpful hub-and-spoke system that keeps things organised. Using the big top tent as an obvious central weenie, the stage fans out in four directions for the entrance, and the space, haunted house, and wild west zones, which have unique signs, shapes, and colour palettes to keep them distinct. It's a breeze to explore and a sharp contrast to the rest of the game's more muddled levels.

Swapping characters

And orientation is important in a game that puts so much emphasis on re-exploring space. So in Banjo-Kazooie I talked about how in a few levels you could transform into critters like a termite or a crocodile and use their unique powers to overcome obstacles elsewhere in the stage.

Banjo-Tooie takes this and amps it up dramatically. Thanks to new character, uh, Humba Wumba… every level now has a transformation, allowing you to become a stone statue, an explosive detonator, a van, a submarine, a small t-rex, a big t-rex, a washing machine, a snowball, and a bee.

Not only will you have to find you way back to the place where these transformations will grant access, but you'll often need to figure out an alternative route that works for their unique movement. For instance, it's effortless to jump up and reach the pressure-sensitive switch in Hailfire Peaks as Banjo and Kazooie... but as a heavy snowball with a three inch vertical? Think again. Instead you'll have to take a warp panel to the fire side, hot foot it through there before melting, and then roll around to the button from above.

But that's not all! This time you can also play as Mumbo Jumbo, who can make changes in the level when standing on special spaces. But he's slow and dumpy when compared to Banjo and Kazooie, so you'll sometimes need to find another route for him to take. And also new for this sequel: Banjo and Kazooie can split up into two separate characters. This reveals a bunch of unique moves that can't be done when paired up, and leads to challenges where the bear and bird must work together, tag-teaming obstacles and puzzles.

All of this stuff is pretty cool, forcing you to understand the level and its various paths and routes - and make intentional plans for how you'll get around with the unique abilities of the different characters. But this fun gameplay is let down in implementation - and not just by the confusing level layouts that make it tough to even find that place you need to use the transformation.

No: the real culprit is the tedium of actually activating these transformations.

For instance, in Witchyworld you find a shut-down dodgems ride. So you go all the way to Mumbo and switch to him. Go back to the dodgems to power up the ride. Inside is a money box, so back to Mumbo to become Banjo and Kazooie. Then to Humba Wumba to become the van. Back to the dodgems to pay the entry fee. Then back to Humba Wumba to turn back into Banjo and Kazooie. And then back to the dodgems to - finally! - play the mini game.

There's similar frustration in finding one of the manholes which grant new abilities - only to be told that you need to split up and come back as either Banjo or Kazooie alone to actually learn the move.

And look - it's not Rare's worst game for this sort of character-changing nonsense (looking at you, Donkey Kong 64!). And the warp pads certainly do help. But it's still just needless bloat and backtracking that creates tedium and discourages free-form exploration and experimentation. A button to break Humba Wumba's magic spell and turn back into Banjo, or a button to call your partner back to you, would be a really nice addition.

Grunty Industries

All of this comes to a head in Tooie's most infamous level: Grunty Industries. A level that can go toe-to-toe with the Water Temple for perplexing Nintendo 64 owners.

So this level is humongous - a five-floor factory with an extra basement and rooftop for good measure. It's not too bad to navigate thanks to clear signs above most of the doors - but you'll probably need a notepad to remember what's on each floor.

The true complication, then, comes from constantly changing characters. Many sections require you to split up - especially as Banjo needs to transport batteries around in his empty backpack to unlock electro-powered doors. Mumbo needs to make his way to various pads to turn off machinery - but the results are usually temporary so you'll need to rush around to make any use of the change. And then there's the level's special transformation: the washing machine. This allows access to service lifts and some special rooms but, for some inexplicable reason, you can't use the warp pads. The machine also can't jump very high meaning you'll often need to find alternative routes to get around.

In fact, much of the level involves making routes and paths for the other playable characters - like dropping a Mumbo pad down from the attic, or lowering an elevator so the washing machine can pass this small gap. This leads to endless backtracking and character swapping.

Now many of the changes you make are permanent, one-way modifications to the level - so it's more like slowly unpicking a knot, rather than the brain-melting puzzle box shenanigans of a Zelda dungeon. But it's still a lot to keep in your head as you must remember the status of so many floors, doors, and sub rooms. Without good memory or notes you can be wandering around aimlessly forever. Most players will spend double the time on this level than any other in the game.

Now I did actually quite enjoy this level because I’m a sicko - but I get the backlash. Even Rare agrees that it was a lot to take in, and that a decent in-game map would have helped things dramatically.

Zooming out

So that's the individual levels. But now let's zoom out and look at the game as a whole.

Because, at first glance, the game is structurally similar to Banjo-Kazooie. There's a hub world - this time the Isle of Hags - where we can access the different levels. Each world has 10 jiggies to find, and they can be used to unlock stages further into the hub.

But even from the very first level, Mayahem Temple, things are different. We're immediately faced with obstacles that we can't overcome with the abilities on hand. And if you head through one specific tunnel and check the menu you'll realise that you're actually in a completely different world - Terrydactyland, which you won't explore properly until you unlock world five.

It soon becomes clear that Banjo-Tooie is not a set of disconnected stages like Banjo-Kazooie, but actually an interwoven web of worlds that must be taken as a complete package.

And this interconnectivity comes in a few different flavours: there's backtracking to old levels with new abilities. Criss-crossing between worlds through shortcuts. And making changes in one world, to create a knock-on effect in another.

Backtracking

So let's start by talking about backtracking with abilities.

Banjo-Tooie starts will all the moves you learned in Banjo-Kazooie - which is already quite a lot - and then gives you loads more throughout the adventure. There's about 20 additional abilities in all, including different types of egg ammo, extra attacks, healing moves, egg-firing abilities, and highly situational puzzle-solving tools like Kazooie's ability to hatch eggs.

Predictably, those new moves grant access to jiggies in the level where you unlock them: in Mayahem Temple you get the Breegull Blaster which turns Kazooie into an egg-spitting shotgun, and lets you get two jiggies from Targitzan's temple. But the moves just as often let you get jiggies in stages... you've already been to.

For instance, Mayahem Temple, has a jiggy that requires the Bill Drill from world two, Glitter Gulch Mine. Which, in turn, has a jiggy that requires the Springy Step Shoes from world five, Terrydactyland. World four, Jolly Rogers Lagoon, needs the glide from world seven. And world six, Grunty Industries, needs the sack pack from world eight.

That's not even all of the jiggies - and it also doesn't include additional collectibles like Jinjos, Cheato pages, honeycomb pieces, treble clefs, and so on.

Now, as a concept, this is fine by me. Revisiting old areas with new tools, keys, and abilities is at the heart of Metroidvanias. And also point and click adventures - a genre which Banjo-Tooie often feels reminiscent of. Plus, it's usually quick to return to old levels thanks to the hub (which is easier to traverse than the one in Banjo-Kazooie) and other interconnections that I'll talk about later.

But the execution does leave something to be desired. For one, Banjo-Kazooie established that - barring one exception - every world can be finished with the abilities gained by that point. Banjo-Tooie throws that convention out completely, which is potentially confusing.

And secondly, once the player does realise that jiggies may be inaccessible until later, it's totally possible to assume that certain puzzles can't be solved with your current tools. This happened to me a fair few times - in Mayahem Temple there are two jiggies being guarded by sleeping characters. I thought I'd maybe get some ability later on to help with this problem - but it turned out that I just needed to move the analogue stick a small amount to make Banjo tip-toe silently.

This confusion is actually a common issue in Metroidvanias. I once spent ages wandering around the world of Ori and the Will of the Wisps, looking for the way forward - only to realise I just needed to use the feather I already had to wake Baur the bear. When you establish that your game is often about going elsewhere to find the path forward, it's not surprising that players will sometimes incorrectly assume that the solution is somewhere else in the world.

There are a few ways to help with this. In Super Metroid there's a room where you need to use Samus's default run ability to bypass falling blocks. The game actually locks the door behind you to ensure you don't give up and try to look elsewhere for something to make you run faster. In Insanely Twisted Shadow Planet you can scan obstacles to see what ability you need to use - one you already own, or a mystery tool you don't have yet? And in Blasphemous II, each new ability is linked to a single specific type of obstacle - so there's never confusion about where you can and can't advance.

For Banjo it might have been nice to communicate this through the jiggy tips page - a useful screen in the menu which keeps track of which jiggies you've found, and gives hints and clues for finding the rest. Some way of marking them as currently accessible or not might have helped.

Connections

Next, let's look at the way levels in Banjo-Tooie are linked together. And this comes in two forms - connections and changes.

The first is literally connections between worlds - routes that link one level to another, meaning you don't have to go through the hub world first.

So in Mayahem Temple you can make a hole that goes through to Glitter Gulch Mine, and later, get access to Terrydactyland and Hailfire Peaks. Glitter Gulch Mine has an entrance to Witchyworld - and Witchyworld has a secret shortcut to Terrydactyland.

Jolly Roger's Lagoon has a pond area that drops into Glitter Gulch Mine, and two pipes that lead to Grunty Industries.

Terrydactyland's stomping plains hooks up to Hailfire Peaks - which also has a pipe to the water plant in Grunty industries. Plus, a one-way route to Jolly Roger's Lagoon.

However, not all connections are created equal. The three links to Grunty Industries go to completely separate and enclosed areas, and so they don't grant access to the whole level. Same for the route from Terrydactyland's stomping plains to Hailfire Peaks - it just puts you in a tiny icy cave with nothing more than a jiggy.

So, put that all together, and this gives us a map of Banjo-Tooie that looks a little something like the above. I've marked the connections that lead to dead-ends with dotted lines, to keep them separate.

Oh, and then there's Chuffy. In Glitter Gulch Mine you can use Mumbo to right this broken-down steam engine. Then, as Banjo and Kazooie, you can fight the conductor, Old King Coal. Now you can open up train stations in six other places - the Isle of Hags hub, Witchyworld, Terrydactyland, Grunty Industries, and Hailfire Peaks' ice side, and fire side. Now you can ride the train from stop to stop.

There are now complete connections in every world bar the last, Cloud Cuckooland, which is high above the Isle of Hags and so not physically touching any other stage.

Changes

The other way levels are linked is through changes. Do something in one world and you'll make a difference in another.

So in Mayahem, when we open that route to Glitter Gulch Mine, Dilberta the rat will run through - netting us a jiggy on the other side. Likewise, opening the door from Glitter Gulch to Witchyworld will let a flying saucer travel through to the fairground and unlock a mini-game in that level. Witchyworld has a cell block with Gobi the camel and a dinosaur called Scrut who will head to Hailfire Peaks and Terrydactyland, respectively, when rescued.

In Jolly Rogers Lagoon, fixing the UFO sends it off to Hailfire Peak's ice side. Turning off the sewage in Grunty Industries will clean the water in Jolly Roger. And you can send stuff from Cloud Cuckooland down to the world below - you can drain water into Dippy's pool in Terrydactyland. And you can knock George ice cube down to be with his wife Mildred in Hailfire Peaks' ice side.... except he actually ends up in a pool of water in the lava side. Well at least that water is cool now, and can be drained into Jolly Roger's Lagoon!

Phew! That's a lot of interconnectivity! In fact, every single level features some link to another stage in the game - whether that's a literal route between stages or a way to enact changes in another world.

But what's the point of all this stuff? Banjo-Kazooie didn't have it, after all - the only way to get from one world to another was through the hub. And outside of those super rare exceptions I explored earlier, the levels never impact on each other. So what do we gain from the connections in Tooie?

Why Tooie is Interconnected

Well, for one, it simply makes the world feel more connected and complete. Less like a random hodgepodge of disconnected worlds and more like a believable space. Grunty Industries dumps its sewage into Jolly Roger's Lagoon, which delivers water to Glitter Gulch Mine. And characters visit Witchyworld, or leave one world only to get trapped in Hailfire Peaks.

Just like seeing Pinna Park in the skybox for Super Mario Sunshine, or realising that blue lake is the cause of the eternal rain in the City of Tears in Hollow Knight, it adds to the world building and sense of place.

Two, there's just something special in realising that a world is more interconnected than you thought. Even with those dead-end shortcuts I just spoke about, it's still surprising and charming to realise that you just showed up in a completely different level - perhaps one you won't unlock properly until many hours later.

Three, is that, when it comes to those literal connections between stages, it can create expedient new routes and shortcuts. And in a game that often has you backtracking to an old area - perhaps with a new ability to use, or because you just made a change in another zone - unlocking quicker paths should be a very worthwhile reward.

Then again, I personally never really used them for that purpose. It was usually just as fast, if not faster, to simply warp to the level entrance, leave, and then use the handy hub world warps to bounce to the other world. Ironically, this is an instance where Banjo-Tooie is actually so convenient by default that there's not much to be gained by an extra dash of speed.

Game-wide puzzle solving

And then finally, there's using interconnectivity for puzzle- and problem-solving.

For instance, you can't actually enter the main Grunty Industries factory, when you first enter from the hub world, because the front door is locked from the inside. The solution is to find a switch to open the level's train station, and then take Chuffy from another stop to enter Grunty Industries from the inside.

In Hailfire Peaks you need to be a stony to enter the kickball tournament, So you need to use the connection to Mayahem Temple to transform in that world - and then come back through as a stony.

And I really enjoyed a puzzle involving Scrotty the dinosaur in Terrydactyland. Her three dino kids need help. One can be saved by Mumbo in the level. Another is trapped in Witchyworld's jail cells. And the third is sick. You'll need Banjo's taxi pack to put him on the train, park Chuffy at the Isle of Hags, and then use Mumbo's magic point to heal the dinosaur.

These puzzles ask you to consider not just your current crop of abilities. Or the tools available in the current level. But to think about the entire world as a possible puzzle-solving tool. And they feel satisfying to solve because they reward you for understanding how this world works, and how all the different areas fit together.

Unfortunately, most of the the other connection-based puzzles are less exciting. For instance - I mentioned earlier that you need to clean up the water in Jolly Roger's Lagoon. It might have been cool to see a clue that the sewage was coming from Grunty Industries and then make the intentional choice to travel there and turn off the sewage or block the pipe. But instead there's just a shortcut above the tap in Jolly Roger's Lagoon that takes you to that dead-end room in Grunty Industries which has nothing but a sewer shut-off switch.

And many of the changes just kind of... happen. You break a rock in Cloud Cuckooland because… why not? And then it drains down into Dippy's pool in Terrydactyland. You don't have to think, plan, or consider how to get the water to Dippy, you just play the game and it happens. You don't even have to return to the level to get the jiggy - though you can use the new water level to swim up and get a Cheato page, which is a neat reward for noting that Terrydactyland has changed.

So while these connections are cool, I can only think of a few times where I felt tested and rewarded for my memory and understanding of the wider world.

Though... maybe that's for the best.

Tooie Complexity

You see, in Banjo-Tooie, the individual levels are already a lot to juggle.

Many jiggies require multiple steps - like finding Mrs. Boggy's three children, hatching Terry's four eggs, or pocketing 20 Doubloons in Jolly Roger's Lagoon. And you need to remember all the locations and obstacles that you can't bypass with your current abilities or character. And you simply need to try and organise the muddled level layout in your mind.

It's a lot to take in.

And so when you add in this interconnectivity. When you're making changes and opening routes in other levels. Or unlocking moves that might be useful in some previous stage. Well, it becomes an ever-expanding, multi-dimensional quest log of spinning plates and unclosed rings.

It can feel like an impossibly large set of chores to keep track of. Juggling all this in your brain is a fast track to a headache - especially over the course of multiple play sessions for this huge 15 to 20 hour game.

Now it does feel satisfying to finally unpick this game-wide knot. And it is worth noting that it is technically possible to get enough jiggies to complete the game without ever backtracking to a previous level. But it still feels tremendously overwhelming - and a long way from the simple pleasures of Banjo-Kazooie.

Designer Greg Mayles has admitted as such, saying…

Even though we thought that Banjo-Tooie's more complex and interlocking worlds were better than those of the original, many fans still believe that Banjo-Kazooie was the better game due to its simpler structure. I would say we got the balance right the first time and perhaps made the all too common mistake of wanting bigger, better, and more for the sequel.

Banjo-Tooie tried to expand in every single axis at once: more moves, more characters, more bosses, bigger worlds, more complex challenges, more interconnectivity. And in doing so, I don’t think it managed to top the original. Banjo-Kazooie is a timeless gem that's easy to revisit, over and over again. But with its more complicated levels and overarching structure, one playthrough is enough for Banjo-Tooie.

A good lesson for making sequels, then: it's sometimes best to focus on expanding out just a few elements - rather than trying to outdo absolutely everything from the previous game.

And also, maybe don't change the entire thing to now be about building vehicles. That's also good advice!