What about Addison? You know, the notifier Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom – You must have met him already. He’s a lanky guy with a pinhead and a stupid headcut who sweats to hold up a billboard. You probably first saw him in the ruins of Hyrule Castle City, but wherever you go in Hyrule, Addison was there first. He’s on an epic mission all his own – only in Addison’s case it’s not about rescuing the princess, it’s about pranking his boss.
Addison’s boss is Hudson, President of Hudson Construction. Like Bolson in breath of the wild, Hudson will help you build a house later in the game, but once you arrive in Hyrule you will feel his presence. After the upheaval, Hudson generously supports the rebuilding of the kingdom, leaving building materials (which you can turn into strange vehicles or korok torture devices to your heart’s content) everywhere. And Hudson wants everyone to know of his generosity, so he sent Addison there to put up a sign with his face next to almost every cache.
Addison is one of my favorite characters Tears of the Kingdom, for many reasons. It’s absurd and funny and serves as an excuse for some simple, fun little physics puzzles. If he lets go of the shield, it falls over, so it’s up to Link to prop it up with an Ultrahand assembly glued together before Addison can lash it down. Each character has a different shape, presenting a different challenge but also serving as a clue to the solution. The puzzles are neat little palate cleansers that interrupt Link’s journeys without getting as involved or messy as helping a lost Korok get back to his friend.
Addison is refreshing in other ways too. He’s a reminder that Zelda games, as fantastical and mechanically artistic as they are, are also about real life.
The Zelda series has long been Nintendo’s premier way of saying something about the world we live in. Majora’s maskThe most famous example is , which centers on an entire clockwork soap opera. But think of a town in Zelda, and you’ll find unforgettable examples of the townspeople’s petty jealousies, sad dreams, and quirky little things. Remember sky swordIs the carnivore preening, Groose? Or Ingo, the employee at ocarina of timeis Lon Lon Ranch selling his lazy boss Talon to Ganondorf? The series is littered with dozens of these little dramas that poke fun at everyday human vanities.
Addison and his characters is a classic pocket-sized example of Zelda’s satire. He is an overzealous, unhappy worker exploited by his boss’s hubris. The image of him struggling to hold up the huge, unbalanced shield couldn’t be clearer. Hudson can’t do a good deed without using it as a vehicle for self-promotion—one has to assume he has political ambitions—but Addison, desperate to be satisfied, is partly to blame for his own humiliation. This is certainly a particular dig at the sycophantic Japanese work culture, but everyone can understand that.
It’s a tart little vignette, punctuated perfectly by the puzzle gameplay. The contraptions you devise to support the shield are invariably huge, wasteful, and elaborate; Addison’s final solution, meanwhile, is sloppy and looks like it won’t take two minutes. You both step back and admire your handiwork—all this hyper-technical effort in the name of nothing more than corporate vanity. Then it’s on to the next. In Hyrule, the world has ended, a chasm has opened and the sky is literally falling – but life and work go on.