Metal Gear Solid · PlayStation · Konami · 1998 · 52 pages
Metal Gear Solid made its packaging part of the game: Meryl's codec frequency was printed on the back of the CD case, and Psycho Mantis could only be beaten by moving the controller to the second port.
Hideo Kojima built several of Metal Gear Solid's most famous moments around the player's physical surroundings. When Snake needs to contact Meryl, the game tells the player that her codec frequency is on the back of the CD case — and it is, printed on the jewel case's rear artwork. Psycho Mantis reads the player's memory card and predicts every move until the controller is switched to the second port, a solution Colonel Campbell suggests over the codec. These moments made the game's packaging and hardware part of the experience, and they are a large part of why the game is remembered as one of the medium's great fourth-wall-breaking works.
Turning its packaging and the console itself into parts of the game, most famously with Meryl's codec frequency and Psycho Mantis.
Early in Metal Gear Solid, players are told that Meryl's codec frequency is "on the back of the CD case". Many players searched the game for it; the answer was literally in their hands, printed on the packaging. It is a small joke and a genuine puzzle at once, and it set the tone for a game that kept reaching past the screen.
Psycho Mantis took the idea further. He reads the player's memory card, makes the controller vibrate on command, and dodges every attack until the controller is moved to the second port — a fix Colonel Campbell suggests over the codec. The fight is remembered because it treats the player's own hardware as part of the arena.
These moments only work because Kojima assumed players were sitting with a real box and a real console in front of them. The packaging, the controller ports and the memory card all became pieces of the game's design.
That approach has aged into one of Metal Gear Solid's signatures. Later releases on other platforms had to find new answers for the same moments — a reminder of how tightly the original was bound to its physical form.