Over five years, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate welcomed 89 fighters into its arena, each heralded by a short cinematic meant to justify their place among legends. Now that Sora's arrival has closed the door on new additions — and with no sequel confirmed — these brief films stand as the final word on how a game chooses to say: this character matters. Looking back at them is less an act of ranking than of remembering how storytelling, even in miniature, can elevate or diminish a moment of arrival.
Ranking Super Smash Bros. Ultimate's 89 Character Introductions
You can't kill Kirby. It's an impossibility.
Mark
So this is just a ranking of how characters showed up in the game? Why does that matter?
Mimi
It matters because these introductions are the first impression players get of each character. They set the tone for who that fighter is and why they're worth playing.
Luke
But the ranking is subjective, right? One person's "boring" is another person's "clean and efficient."
Mimi
Absolutely. But you can still talk about what works and what doesn't. Inkling's white void tells you nothing. Sora's ending feels like a real moment.
Mark
What makes Sora's so special compared to the others?
Mimi
It's the last one, for one thing. But also, it feels earned. There's actual emotional weight to Mario and Sora shaking hands because of the licensing hurdles involved.
Luke
Though we should note that's the author's interpretation. We don't actually know what Sakurai had to overcome—that's being inferred.
Mimi
Fair point. But the opening itself is undeniably well-crafted. The orchestral "Simple and Clean" is a direct callback to Kingdom Hearts fans.
Mark
And Kazuya throwing everyone into a volcano is funny because...?
Mimi
Because it's absurd and dark at the same time. He's just casually murdering the entire roster, one by one, and the only one who survives is Kirby.
Luke
That's a good joke, but it's also kind of a one-note opening. It's funny once, and then it's done.
Mimi
True, but sometimes that's enough. Not every introduction needs to be complex.
Mark
So what's the actual takeaway here? The game is ending?
Mimi
The game is ending, at least as far as new characters go. These 89 introductions are the final roster.
Luke
And there's no sequel planned, though Sakurai left the door open for the series to continue somehow.
Mimi
Right. So these openings are kind of a farewell tour.
Mark
That's kind of bittersweet.
Mimi
It is. But it's also a good reminder of how much care went into this game over five years.
O Pulso
- The DLC cycle is complete and no sequel is planned, making these 89 character introductions the permanent, unchangeable record of how Ultimate chose to welcome its roster.
- Not all arrivals were created equal — some cinematics, like Inkling's featureless white-void debut, barely bothered to make a case for the character at all.
- The standouts — Kazuya hurling fighters into a volcano, Joker stealing a crown in Persona 5's visual language, Sora soaring above the full roster to an orchestral 'Simple and Clean' — showed what the format could achieve when ambition matched affection.
- The ranking reveals a tension at the heart of the format: spectacle, humor, and emotional resonance each pull in different directions, and only the best introductions managed to hold all three at once.
Over five years, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate welcomed 89 fighters into its arena, each heralded by a short cinematic meant to justify their place among legends. Now that Sora's arrival has closed the door on new additions — and with no sequel confirmed — these brief films stand as the final word on how a game chooses to say: this character matters. Looking back at them is less an act of ranking than of remembering how storytelling, even in miniature, can elevate or diminish a moment of arrival.
Five years of character reveals have ended. Masahiro Sakurai has confirmed no sequel is currently planned, and Sora from Kingdom Hearts was the last fighter added to Super Smash Bros. Ultimate's roster of 89. Most of those characters arrived with cinematic introductions — short films that announced who they were and why they belonged. With the DLC cycle now closed, it's worth asking which of those moments actually worked.
At the bottom sit the introductions that barely tried. Inkling's opening is set against a plain white void, two characters splattering each other with no sense of world or personality. Piranha Plant's debut is similarly forgettable, and Banjo-Kazooie's arrival recycles a prank already used for King K. Rool — a joke that loses its charm the second time around. Terry Bogard's pixel-art sequence has one genuinely funny beat, Geese Howard apparently leaping off a skyscraper for an envelope, but the concept itself feels familiar.
The middle tier holds openings that work without quite transcending. The Castlevania sequence for Simon and Richter is atmospheric and darkly funny — Luigi's soul gets reaped along the way. The Hero's introduction is longer and more emotionally grounded, with Link getting overwhelmed before the Dragon Quest protagonist steps in. Mythra and Pyra's reveal earns its texture by showing Rex searching across an entire world only to learn she's already left for Smash.
Toward the top, Joker's introduction renders everything in Persona 5's visual language, complete with Phantom Thieves dialogue and a crown-theft punchline. Ridley's opening is genuinely unsettling — he kills Mario and Mega Man before revealing himself to Samus in a darkened facility. Min Min's debut matches Arms' own art style and finds real comedy in Kirby inhaling ramen while she fights her way to an invitation.
Kazuya Mishima's opening may be the funniest. He throws defeated Smash fighters into a volcano one by one — until he checks the cliff for Kirby and watches the pink balloon simply float back up. You cannot kill Kirby. The game knows it, and the moment lands perfectly.
At the very top is Sora. His introduction feels like Kingdom Hearts distilled: a keyblade unlocking a door, a flight above the full roster, an orchestral version of 'Simple and Clean' swelling underneath. It ends with Mario and Sora shaking hands — a moment that carries real weight given how difficult Sakurai said it was to make happen. It feels like a proper goodbye, and perhaps that's exactly what it is.
Five years of character reveals have come to an end. Masahiro Sakurai, the director behind Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, has confirmed there are no plans for a sequel, though he's left open the possibility that the series itself might not be finished. What we do know is that Sora from Kingdom Hearts was the final DLC fighter added to the roster, closing the door on new arrivals. With 89 characters now available to play, most of them arrived with cinematic introductions—short films that announced their presence and set the tone for who they were. As the game enters its final chapter, it's worth looking back at these openings and asking which ones actually landed, and which ones fell flat.
At the bottom of the pile sits Inkling, whose introduction is almost aggressively spare. The entire scene takes place against a white void, with two Inklings splattering each other while the theme song plays. There's no character, no world-building, no sense of who these creatures are beyond the fact that they can shoot ink. Piranha Plant, the first DLC character, fares only slightly better—it's a brief, forgettable sequence where Mario gets knocked around by the plant while other characters spin in the background. There's no energy to it, no reason to remember it happened. Banjo-Kazooie's opening is essentially a recycled joke: Duck Hunt pretends to be the bear-and-bird duo, fooling Diddy Kong and Donkey Kong until the real thing shows up. It's a prank we've already seen before, which is precisely the problem.
Terry Bogard arrives in pixel art, a nod to Fatal Fury's aesthetic, but the concept of characters reaching for an invitation isn't new. The one memorable beat is Geese Howard apparently throwing himself off a skyscraper for the envelope—a darkly funny moment that suggests desperation runs deep in this world. King K. Rool's introduction is brief and silly, with King Dedede playing a prank that gets him smacked down by the crocodile. It's funny, but it's also short, and it gets reused almost immediately for Banjo-Kazooie's opening, which drains it of novelty.
The middle tier holds openings that work but don't transcend. Richter and Simon's Castlevania sequence is genuinely atmospheric, with 3D renderings of the castle, possessed busts, and a skeleton Grim Reaper whose jaw gets shattered. Luigi's soul gets reaped in the process, which adds a layer of dark humor. The Hero's introduction is longer and more emotional, with Link getting pummeled by dark versions of Marth and Meta Knight before the Dragon Quest protagonist arrives to save the day. Byleth's opening oscillates between Fire Emblem's art style and Smash Bros.' own, which is visually interesting, though the silent protagonist doesn't quite land the moment. Mythra and Pyra's reveal is funny because Rex gets denied the invitation, and the world-building—watching him search across Alrest only to learn she's leaving for Smash—gives the opening texture that most lack.
Toward the top, Joker's introduction stands out for its style. Nintendo rendered the entire sequence in Persona 5's distinctive visual language, complete with dialogue from the Phantom Thieves. Joker stealing King K. Rool's crown at the end is a perfect punctuation mark. Ridley's opening is ominous and frightening—he murders both Mario and Mega Man before revealing himself to Samus in a dimly lit facility, his screech piercing the air. It's a genuinely unsettling moment that makes clear this is a threat. Min Min's introduction is rendered in a striking art style that matches Arms' own aesthetic. Kirby inhales ramen like a vacuum cleaner while Min Min battles every other Arms character for the invitation before sneaking out of the ramen house. It's funny, visually inventive, and genuinely entertaining.
Kazuya Mishima's opening is arguably the funniest, though the humor is dark. He tosses defeated Smash fighters into a volcano one after another—Ganondorf, Captain Falcon, Pit, even Min Min, whose stretchy arm gets wrapped around his ankle. The best moment comes when Kazuya checks the cliff to see if Kirby went over, only for the pink balloon to float back up. You can't kill Kirby. It's an impossibility, and the opening knows it.
At the very top sits Sora. His introduction feels quintessentially Kingdom Hearts, with the keyblade unlocking a door that transports him to Smash. As he flies above the entire roster, an orchestral version of "Simple and Clean" plays in the background. The sequence ends with Mario and Sora shaking hands—a moment that carries weight because of everything Sakurai had to overcome to make it happen. It's emotional, it's earned, and it feels like a proper goodbye. Isabelle's opening, while long and perhaps overly cute, deserves mention for how intimately it lets us know her character. We watch her work through her day, contemplating mayorship while the Villager is busy with Smash, before she receives her own invitation. She's adorable, personable, and tidy—everything Animal Crossing fans love about her.
These openings, taken together, tell a story about how a game introduces its characters. Some rely on spectacle, others on humor, still others on emotional resonance. With the DLC cycle now complete and no sequel in sight, these introductions represent the final chapter of what may be Super Smash Bros. Ultimate's legacy—a five-year journey that brought 89 fighters into one arena, each one announced with a moment meant to make them feel like they belonged.
Citações Notáveis
Masahiro Sakurai has confirmed there are no plans for a sequel, though he's left open the possibility that the series itself might not be finished.— Game director Masahiro Sakurai
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