NIntendo tried to have their cake and eat it too by making one of their most hardcore, challenging, and thought-provoking franchises accessible to a wider, more action-driven audience with less attention-span.
Other M is a game that's supposed to be easy to pick up and play, accessible to newcomers. That's why it's so linear, why they hold your hand so much, why it's got so much style and so little substance, why there are so many crutches to lean on, why it's so lenient in its mechanics, why it pushes you forward and talks you through it like this is the first Metroid game you ever played.
... And then throws in references and important story points that only the most hardcore of Metroid fans would understand. Who is this character? He was mentioned in Fusion. What's going on here? That happened in Super Metroid back in 1994 and was a big deal. What's happening now? If you read an obscure Japanese-only manga with a limited print run, you'd understand. What's this thing? Oh, that's a boss from a previous game we tossed in as fanservice.
Other M's story is impossible to truly follow if you're not already a pretty hardcore follower of the series, yet its mechanics are so streamlined and simplified that any Metroid veteran who soldiered through some of the earlier game's hardest moments would and should feel insulted by how little it respected the player's agency and intuition.
So, in relation to Dark Souls, that's ANOTHER thing Dark Souls did well, that Metroid once did so well: minimal storytelling.
Dark Souls never spells it out. The story is mostly told through actions, through the environment, through item descriptions. Just like Metroid used to do.
Metroid was brilliant at NOT spelling things out, at giving you just enough to pique your curiosity. Chozo ruins stretching back a thousand years telling a history of war and peace... abandoned space ships, derelict and empty, long after those on board had been exterminated and the cargo stripped clean... hidden lab factories showcasing a history of experimentation and animal abuse, detailing what they hoped to accomplish... All without resorting to 10 minute cutscenes.
And Samus herself was the avatar of the player's interest. What she felt, we felt. What she saw, we saw. She wasn't a blank slate, but rather a conduit to mimic the feelings we ourselves had. Our fears and concerns in those games matched her fears. Our courage matched hers. What she wanted, we wanted. The games were smartly designed so that what Samus felt was projected onto US, not the other way around.
So when I was ready for Round 6 with Ridley, eager to wipe the floor with him once again, I was not in sync with my main character, who flopped to the floor in tears and cried while he dragged her around the room. When I was ready to march into Sector Zero and slay some Metroids, I was not in sync with my main character, who flopped to the floor helplessly after a surprise attack (from one shot?) and then gushed over the guy who shot her about how awesome he is and how grateful she was that he was doing the job she was trained and raise since infancy to do. When I was ready to face off against Mother Brain, I was not in sync with my main character, who didn't shoot when I ordered her to and instead passively stood by while bureaucrats intimidated her and talked her into keeping her silence, until someone else had to come along and be the big hero.
Less if absolutely more with Metroid, just as Dark Souls uses it so exceedingly well.
I think IGN had an article called "Metroid Prime 3 - The Anti-Hype" or something close to that. The US commercial was ESPECIALLY bad.
Yep.
Metroid Prime 3: The Anti-Hype