It will probably come in very handy, the game says. It's referring to the Spirit Flute, and is making the understatement of the year. The latest might happen to be called Spirit Tracks, and its imagery might be suffused with steamy, quasi-industrial iconography, but it's the magical pan pipes which underpin the entire experience. It's the game's equivalent of the Ocarina or Wand of Wind, just without receiving nearly as much recognition in the game.

The Spirit Flute, then. You slide with the stylus to choose which one of its coloured pipes you wish to play, and then blow into the DS's microphone port. Get it right and magical stuff happens on-screen. Bonus points for trying to do it, like me, with enough subtlety that nobody notices when you're on a real-life train. Which is possible: you don't have to exhale with much force, nor is its sensor dull enough to demand you stick your head a millimetre from the screen. I found that the gimmick never outstayed its welcome, although it does smack slightly of an attempt to jam some sort of obligatory DS-specific feature into the game. But when it's implemented this well, producing so many entertaining silly moments, I find myself lacking in any discernable criticism.

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Link is still controlled entirely by stylus, which feels weird until you realise it's perfectly handled. Point on the screen and Link will run in that direction, with progressively more gusto the further away the stylus lands. Tap an enemy and he'll perform a basic attack, but more complex sword skills are available by drawing lines and circles on the screen. The old favourites - bombs, bow and boomerang - make their inevitable return, and are controlled with the same pixel-perfect, responsive controls as the basic sword attacks.

The new additions to Link's arsenal don't fare so well. Many smack a little bit too much of new-age innovation, forcing you to blow into the microphone or tap all over the screen whilst controlling your character at the same time - a wee bit fiddly for my tastes. But then you end up with a whip that looks like a snake (essentially the game's version of the grappling hook) and all is forgiven. Not ideal, then, but the array of specific items are, admittedly, functional in their niche settings. Also, did I mention the snake whip?

If it all reads a bit too much like Zelda-by-numbers, that's because it mostly is. Spirit Tracks has been pitched and positioned as a sequel to 2007's Hourglass - itself a continuation of the established universe crafted in Wind Waker. decided a sequel (in concept, at least, as the game takes place over, it is inferred, at least a century after the previous one) was satisfactory enough because, by and large, this second DS Zelda sings to the exact same tune as the original, albeit with some mandatory minor refinements. The thirty-floor Temple of the Ocean King elegantly becomes The Tower of Spirits, but now you're not forced to start at ground level each time you attempt to inch towards its lofty peak or obey baffling time limits. And with the DS - as ever - presumably lacking in enough silicon juice to render an environment, the Spirit Train takes over from the S. S. Linebeck as Link's vehicle du jour.

Still, it's hard not to be overcome with that all-encompassing rainbows-and-happiness feeling Nintendo are so capable of generating. Acts as routine as riding the train, an understandably on-rails experience, evoke a sense of childish glee (on an actual child it must be glee squared: just hope they've not been fed too much sugar beforehand). Even using the stylus to fiddle with the gears and pull down on the whistle to scare off pesky animals, or just to muck about whilst you're on the way to your destination, is a (the following pun is intended) hoot. The train contributes an admiral performance of chugs, whirrs, huffs and puffs on each journey, with its model marvellously textured and made complete with the joyous sight of Link at the helm. All aboard!

It's the new Nintendo on display - complete with their cherished, but dwindling, stable of characters. This is a company that has changed from the heady nostalgic heights of its SNES days, now having to pay attention to the fiscal cycle, appreciate the need to have new titles on the shelves for and understand that these same games need to cater to the emerging market they've created for themselves. Their games, with titles such as this and the New Super Bros Wii, have become solid, incremental refinements instead of industry-changing innovations. I can cut them some slack: Nintendo have two decades of innovation under their belt, and Spirit Tracks is simply a fantastic game from start to finish.

For a game that, at heart, is a refinement of twenty-year-old game design, there's still some notable progression going on. Zelda herself, for instance, now assumes the role of ethereal sidekick, becoming a vocal participant in the adventure as opposed to a faraway goal. That hulking suit of possessed armour on the front cover, behind Link, is Princess Zelda: long-term fans of the series should find this significant enough to pique their interest, at least.

It's not her all the time, though. In keeping with the spirit theme she's been made ethereal by the game's nefarious villains. Link, as is his way, has been roped into the situation after reporting to Castle Hyrule to graduate as a train engineer - lofty figures in society that ride their steam-powered contraptions across the spirit tracks made after imprisoning the game's ultimate evil within the Earth. Things went awry, the evil is about to be released and it needs to possess the physical body of a descendant of the Hyrule lineage, establishing the pickle Zelda finds herself in.

Being a spirit gives her the occasional ability to possess those ginormous suits of armour, called Phantoms by the game, which proves to be super handy when navigating the Tower of Spirits. The tower is home to many of the game's more complex platforming puzzles, and it is here where the big bad Phantoms roam about. Link lacks the brute force to attack them, so much of his time is spent skulking around out of sight and, in one of the most spectacular role reversals I've seen in a long while, becomes dependent on Zelda (also controlled by the player) to guide him through the myriad of traps, puzzles and baddies.

Outside of the Tower of Spirits, Zelda pops up to provide conversation, hints and direction. Her and Link establish a unique rapport, and some of the cutscenes - specifically the one where Zelda first realises that she'll actually have to go along with Link this time - are superbly handled and whimsical enough to fulfil Cammie Dunaway's promise to put smiles on faces.

The actual dungeons, though, are sadly a bit on the rote side. It's isn't that they're not meticulously designed, with each nicely balancing that crucial mix of head-scratching puzzles, exploration and combat. They're just a bit, well, bland - each dungeon piece slots perfectly into the corresponding generic environment trope. It's as if the creativity of the designers exhausted itself at this point. You only need look at the names of the dungeons: Nintendo couldn't come up with anything more exciting than Forest Land? Seriously?

It's a very good game. But instead of coming up with a new universe, they've returned to something already established. Wind Waker's colourful aesthetic has been a source of much contention, but I've always adored it and am overjoyed to see it return again. The bold lines, simple colours and innocent aesthetic emphasises the idealism of the Zelda series at its finest: this tiny, wide-eyed boy can conquer unimaginable evil, and his stoic determination can achieve more than even omnipotent deities could manage. These games might be perfect for children, but they're as fine an example of gaming as any adult could hope to encounter.

93%

By Martin Gaston