It’s Dangerous To Go Alone: Gaming’s Worst Advisors

This feature was originally published March 16, 2016.

Every hero needs a sage advisor, someone to dispense wisdom and guidance in times of crisis and hardship. Games naturally lend themselves to the presence of a mentor, as developers have a lot to teach players before they turn them loose into their carefully constructed worlds. Unfortunately, these advisors aren’t always as wise as they should be. Sometimes their advice comes out more as nonsensical gibberish than anything else, and sometimes they tend to explain the obvious while leaving the player to work out the frustrating details. Here are some of the worst advisors in gaming.

Doc Louis (Punch-Out!!)

Little Mac’s trainer is a former heavyweight champion, and he seems to still be a bit punch-drunk. “Join the Nintendo Fun Club today!” he tells a battered, beaten Little Mac during an encounter with the 600-pound monster King Hippo. Imagine if Mick told Rocky he might want to sign up for Fruit of the Month Club in between his rounds with Apollo Creed. 

Doc’s not much of a physical trainer, either. His exercise regimen consists entirely of running around New York. Little Mac’s diminutive stature should hint that maybe they need to do something a little more rigorous than just cardio. It’s bulking season, Doc. 

Professor Oak (Pokémon Red, Yellow, and Blue)

Imagine for a moment that you are Professor Oak. You have devoted your life to the study of Pokémon, creatures that are so easy to find they literally jump out at you if you walk around in circles long enough. 

Still, despite your apparent expertise and the sheer number of Rattatas surrounding your home, you somehow have never managed to catalog anything about Pokémon. What’s your solution? Is it to arm two ten-year-olds with approximately 66% of your specimens and send them off to do your dirty work? Because that’s what Oak did.

Professor Oak is far more diligent about the proper use of fishing rods and bikes than he is about spreading knowledge of Pokémon. He’s constantly watching you from afar, making sure you don’t try to ride your bike indoors or pull out your fishing rod in an inappropriate context. Maybe Oak would be better suited to a career at a Sporting Goods store, actually.

Navi (The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time)

According to Zelda lore, all Kokiri children are assigned a fairy at birth to help guide them through life in the forest. If Navi is any indication of the level of advice these fairies are expected to administer, we can probably assume the lifespan of the average Kokiri child is something like eight seconds. 

Navi has absolutely no faith in Link’s ability to navigate a 3D space. “Here’s how you look up,” she generously advises the boy destined to become the Hero of Time. 

Her attention to detail would be acceptable if she also helped with the bigger problems at hand, but when the going gets rough, Navi just sort of gives up. “Look at all these flags! Can you figure out which ones are real?” she asks in the Haunted Wasteland. I don’t know, Navi, but seeing as how I’m currently sinking into a river of quicksand and you’re lazily floating above my head without a care in the world, maybe you could take point on this particular deadly adventure. No? Great. Well, if I run into another giant spider, feel free to summarize its anatomy for me again for the 50th time. 

Big Boss (Metal Gear)

Before Big Boss was building bases and fultoning new recruits, he was leading Solid Snake on a mission against himself. Actually, scratch that. It was after. Look, the timeline’s complicated.

In any case, Big Boss’ turncoat nature once made him one of the worst advisors in games, as he continually “forgets” to tell Snake some important details. You know, little things like landmines and poisonous gas.

His awful advice is enough to land Big Boss a spot on our list, but the fact that he eventually attempts to blow you to kingdom come with a bipedal nuclear tank makes Big Boss a truly terrible advisor. Future mentors, take note: Blowing up your pupils with tanks is in extremely poor taste.  

Scientists (Half-Life)

Take the train into the laboratory, Gordon. Put on the HEV suit, Gordon. Push the cart into the portal and create a world-bending resonance cascade that will lead to the destruction and enslavement of the human race, Gordon.

Look, sometimes it’s worth checking your math more than once, guys. The scientists from Half-Life must have missed some pretty key calculations in order to screw up as badly as they did. Did you guys remember to carry the one? What happened here?

Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t an all-star in math back in high school myself, but I never screwed up an equation so badly that I ended up opening an interdimensional portal to Xen…though I did have more than a few teachers who looked like vortigaunts, so I guess there’s no way to be sure.

If there’s one thing to be learned from the opening of Half-Life, it’s that timeless lesson we’ve all heard over and over again: Never listen to nerds. 

Error (Zelda II: The Adventure of Link)

Congratulations, Legend of Zelda, for managing to be the only franchise with two entries on our list. You’ve really earned it. 

Due to a rough mistranslation of the character’s name, Error’s introduction has become a classic Internet meme. “I am Error,” he cries. The quote was so famous it even became the title of a book on the history of the NES by Nathan Altice.

But Error’s withholding some crucial information from Link, namely the frustratingly hidden entrance to the Island Palace. It’s only after chit-chatting with a friend of Error in the harbor town of Mido that Link is able to squeeze the vital information out of Error. 

Why does Error give the hero such a runaround? Most NPCs don’t even bother to introduce themselves. It’s usually all killer and no filler – no unnecessary pleasantries. “Each town has a wise man,” they’ll say. “Learn from him.” Got it, Random NPC #42. Thank you for not forcing me to go back and forth between two towns in order to hear that little gem of sage advice. 

Get over yourself, Error. A bizarre first name is no excuse to bury the lead like that. I’ve got princesses to save. I don’t have time for pleasantries. 

Ford Crueller (Psychonauts)

After a psychic battle went awry years ago, Ford literally lost part of his mind, and as a result his personality split into multiple “alters,” each one wackier than the last. This means that Ford takes the role of the “wise janitor” to a whole new level of weird. He spends more time burning burgers and raking leaves than helping Raz find his umpteenth collectible in the psychic summer camp. 

The tragic thing about Ford is that when he’s not off his rocker, he’s actually a helpful guy. He’s just on the border of being a useful character but he can’t quite seem to get there, and that makes interacting with Ford all the more frustrating. Especially in a surreal collect-a-thon like Psychonauts, where every ounce of help is much appreciated. 

In order to call Ford to his side, Raz waves around a strip of week-old bacon until the smell summons the old man. Don’t take advice from someone who can be swayed as easily as a golden retriever. 

Barry Burton (Resident Evil)

Sure, we’re all familiar with Barry dubbing Jill as the Master of Unlocking, but the big lug’s language problems don’t even begin to scratch the surface of what makes him such a poor advisor. 

It’s not even the fact that Barry goes full turncoat by the game’s third act, either. Barry Burton gives Jill the worst possible advice any character can give someone in a survival horror scenario: “Let’s split up.”

How does this not seem like a bad idea? In what world has it ever been a good plan to wander through a trap-filled zombie infested mansion by yourself? Imagine how much backtracking the player would be spared if Barry was there to lug around some extra weight. Here, you take these two stone tablets, three keys, this emerald, and this ruby. I’m going to go ahead and grab the grenade launcher, this herb, and all the acid rounds these standard-issue cargo pants can hold. Leave the ink ribbons; I have a feeling this isn’t going to take that long. 

Splitting up doesn’t even seem to help Jill and Barry cover more ground, as the two run into each other in the mansion every fifteen minutes. In fact, it’s almost as if Barry is just following Jill around and keeping secret tabs on her for some mysterious – oh. Wait. Okay, I think I get it now.

Who are your picks for worst advisors? Let us know in the comments below.