During the holiday season, we’re republishing select articles from Nintendo Life writers and contributors as part of our Best of 2023 series. Enjoy!
Soapbox features allow our individual writers and contributors to voice their opinions on hot topics and random things they’ve been chewing on. Today, Gavin reflects on how Charles Martinet helped create a character who, somehow, isn’t the most annoying stereotype imaginable…
How many times have you pressed the button to make Mario jump? How much wahoos have you heard in the last three decades? If you’re anything like us, it must be in the millions, and since Super Mario 64, most of those jumps have been accompanied by a flurry of cry by Mr. Charles Martinet.
The veteran voice actor got his start as Nintendo’s trade show mascot in the early ’90s and voiced Mario in several pre-64 releases, but it was the N64 launch title that showcased his vocal talents to most gamers. His statements sparked the awakening of many young players to the medium and its untold potential as they toured Bob-omb’s Battlefield for the first time. It was a formative moment for millions of people, and Martinet was there with them.
During that adventure and many that followed, he became such a fixture that it’s easy to overlook his contribution to the main Marios and dozens of spin-offs. Martinet voiced Luigi, Wario, and a number of other relatives and important players in the series. His tones are part of the melodious fabric of the Mushroom Kingdom. And he created his contributions almost out of nothing.
Before I continue, a confession. Cards on the table — I’ve never been a big fan of Mario the character. He’s an inoffensive figure and I have nothing against him, but, for me, Mario himself has never evolved beyond the limited pile of pixels he started out as. He’s a ‘jumper’, devoid of any real personality aside from the dynamic art on the Famicom box, which was just bloated pixel art for the Western versions of Super Mario Bros. The games he stars in? Now they stir up passion. But the character himself? Not so much.
Mario’s popularity as a character is largely accidental. As with the oft-compared Mickey Mouse, he’s a cipher through which Nintendo showcases its unrivaled platform; its gentleness is a virtue—almost a necessity—that never threatens to get in the way of playfulness. With clothing and features known as a result of technical limitations, the Mario we know today was created from a bunch of pixels and a few pieces of inspired promotional art. Hardly an auspicious start for the most famous face in all of video games.
Shigeru Miyamoto may be the ‘father’ of Mario, but two other people are primarily responsible for the icon known and loved by millions today: artist Yoichi Kotabe, the man behind the artwork that graced the boxes of 2D Marios and set the template for his look; and Charles Martinet, who gave voice and personality to a bunch of pixels.
Nor did Martinet’s Mario come from a place of daring, divine inspiration. His intuitive take on an Italian plumber from Brooklyn swims in stereotype, but, again, it’s shorthand that gets you into the game with minimal fuss. Italian, moustached, says “Mamma mia” a lot and dreams of pasta — this is not pushing boundaries and that was not the point. He’s a chubby Italian plumber with a royal crush who likes to jump on sentient mushroom monsters. That’s all the context you need. Job done.
Martinetovo real the talent was creating a voice that didn’t squeak after hearing the same tiny clip played 100 times, 1000 times, 10,000 times. There is an incredible nuance to his delivery; he walks an extremely fine line between tentative stereotype and good-natured, childlike, infectious enthusiasm that, most importantly, is impossible, never in the way.
How did he do it? As Mario’s exclamations and sobs and Woof not to drive you against the wall? The talent of the audio directors who implemented his lines should not be underestimated, of course, and fortunately, Martinet has managed to do more than just hooting and hollering over the years. Basically, though, the fact that I’ve never had reason to shut Mario up in the hundreds of hours I’ve hopped around in his shoes is perhaps the best endorsement of Martinet’s work that anyone could give.
It’s been with you every step of the way for nearly three decades, providing a literal soundtrack to your button presses. Much like Mickey Mouse, whose voice went from Walt Disney himself to younger guardians, Martinet laid the vocal foundation for a character that will outlive us all.
Thanks, Charles.
