Saturday, March 9, 2024

Why I Love Ico + Shadow Of The Colossus

 I've said this a few times, but I don't think I'll ever mean it more than now. What can I even say about these games that hasn't already been said? 

Seriously, I'm kinda at a loss here. I only played Ico and Shadow last year, and there's people who've been thinking about, analyzing, and completely and utterly dissecting every facet of these games for decades at this point. It's the kind of game that's left a massive impact on everyone you can think of, from Nintendo to Sega to Naughty Dog. When you think of "games as art", it's likely that Team Ico's work is going to be the first thing that comes to mind. Thus, I think I'll do what I'll always do, talk about why I think Ico and Shadow Of The Colossus still managed to leave such a large impact on me years down the line.

It's a bit tough to figure out where to start when talking about Team Ico's games because everything about them feel so intertwined. The story informs the gameplay and the art direction, which in turn make the story more effective.


Let's start with Ico as an example. This is a game where you play as the titular boy as you escape a castle with a girl named Yorda. There's a big emphasis on the growing bond between Ico and Yorda, but instead of giving us long stretches of dialogue as we watch the characters grow, Ico conveys this relationship through the gameplay. You get an entire dedicated button for holding Yorda's hand as you drag her around the castle, and you need to keep holding that button for as long as you want Yorda to come with you. Throughout the game, you need to protect Yorda with your life, which in turn makes you develop a bond with Yorda just like Ico does. It's the kind of storytelling only a video game can offer, entirely immersive.

Something that really surprised me about Ico when I first played it was just how... jank it was. Sometimes, keeping Yorda safe was frustrating. The realistic movement engine didn't always work the way it was meant to, Yorda's AI didn't always do what I wanted of it, and the combat was kind of a slog. For much of the game, all you had was a stick to blindly swing at the various dark enemies trying to take Yorda away. In a lesser game, these irritating moments would be deal-breakers, but in the case of Ico, I can't help but feel they're all purposeful to a degree. Yorda's AI not always responding makes her feel like an actual living being, aided by the remarkably impressive animation work for a game made in 2001. And the combat made total sense for the narrative. Ico is just a kid, and his mission to escape the castle felt almost futile at points. It all made me want to help Ico and Yorda even more.

I don't want to give off the vibe that Ico was miserable to play though, not in the slightest. For the most part, Ico is also an incredible adventure game. The puzzles are generally really well-crafted and satisfying to solve, especially in the second half, and there's plenty of engaging parkour platforming to keep things interesting throughout. The castle you explore is also so well-realized, and the way it loops back on itself helps to tie it together as a real cohesive place. The sparse, bloomy art direction actually really works in Ico, giving the whole setting a hazy, liminal feel. Many rooms in Ico feature large empty spaces of nothingness, and it's just so... weirdly enthralling to look at. Part of me was invested in Ico because I was invested in the characters, the other part was invested because I really wanted to explore more of the castle.

 

This leads to probably Team ICO's greatest strength, offering a sense of catharsis. After such a grueling journey, Ico packs in a truly incredible conclusion, and overall a stellar final act. The bit where you get separated from Yorda is one of the most oppressive and anxiety-inducing sequences I've played in a game, the final boss manages to feel climactic without feeling at odds with the nonviolent game that preceded it, and the ambiguous ending where you're not sure if Yorda is alive or dead is just such an emotional punch. And then there's the way Ico handles its soundtrack. There isn't much music in Ico, which makes the few moments it does appear feel all the more impactful. Whenever you sit on a save bench, for example, you hear this very comfy and healing piece of music fittingly titled Heal. And when you finally reach the ending of the game, you get hit with a jaw-droppingly beautiful symphonic vocal track called You Were There, that feels like pure emotional catharsis distilled into musical form. I'm not ashamed to admit that Ico's ending made me tear up, a thing only few games have ever done. As I've said before, any piece of media that makes me cry is an automatic masterpiece in my book.

I'll be honest and say that Shadow Of The Colossus didn't leave quite the same emotional impact, and yet I still think it's the better game. For starters, it's longer and has more interesting gameplay. The compelling sense of exploration that Ico had is now expanded into an entire overworld, that despite being vast and fairly empty, is still really fun to explore. Figuring out the location of each Colossus is almost as fun as fighting them, and by the end of the game, I had the map ingrained into my brain. As for the boss fights themselves, they're incredible, absolutely one of the best boss rosters in gaming. Kuromori, Hydrus, Dirge, Malus, Phalanx, Avion, Gaius, there are so many fantastic encounters that are all varied and memorable in their own rights. I'm absolutely not surprised games like Mario Galaxy and Sonic Frontiers took heavy inspiration from SotC's boss design, climbing up a giant behemoth and taking it down will never not be satisfying.

However, from a story standpoint, Shadow Of The Colossus nails everything Ico does and then some. Sure, taking down the Colossi can be a ton of fun, but like in Ico, it's not all smooth sailing. You will have to hold down the trigger for dear life to cling onto these Colossi, and some of them will try to shake you off relentlessly. Some bosses shake so frequently that so much as finding an opening to strike can be remarkably frustrating. Once again, this is all purposeful. The main protagonist Wander is trying to cure a girl named Mono by slaying all the Colossi in the region, and it's supposed to be an arduous journey. Taking down a giant beast as a normal human is supposed to be challenging, and as the game goes on, you notice that maybe Wander's not supposed to be the good guy. You notice how each Colossi's death starts to feel increasingly pitiful and tragic, you start to notice how some Colossi aren't even trying to attack you, and you notice how each victory seems to be reflecting worse and worse on Wander.

Once again, Shadow Of The Colossus brings everything to an incredibly powerful close. The final fight with the final Colossus, Malus, is an atmospheric and haunting climax, from making the tallest climb in the game to your horse sacrificing himself for your mission, symbolizing just how far gone Wander is. And once you beat Malus, you get a brutal, crushing nearly half hour cutscene where Mono gets resurrected... but Wander becomes fully corrupted. It's a devastating piece of dramatic irony, but the game still manages to end on an ambiguously hopeful note for Mono just like Ico did. One thing that really differentiates SotC from Ico is the music. As impactful as You Were There was, I was very pleased to find that there's much more music in SotC, all roughly on par with Ico's ending theme. From magical pieces of folk, to booming orchestral boss themes, Shadow Of The Colossus's soundtrack is absolutely incredible, with highlights including The Farthest Land, The Opened Way, A Despair-Filled Farewell, Counterattack, and Revived Power. Once again, you can tell the devs behind Mario Galaxy were heavily inspired by this game (which apparently Ueda wasn't impressed with? Damn...)

Ico and Shadow Of The Colossus both managed to offer some of the most striking games I've ever played. They're not just incredibly fun adventure games, nor are they just beautiful pieces of art. They're these cohesive, complete experiences that meld together story, gameplay, and visuals in a way that few other games have managed to do. It's a real shame that the only thing the industry seems to have borrowed from these games is the imagery, I think there's a lot you can learn from Ico and Shadow Of The Colossus on how to convey a narrative and immerse an audience solely through gameplay.

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