ICO

"Boy escapes from cell, rescues girl, takes her to a quiet place and tries to 'accidentally' touch her. Fails. The end."

Not really. But would be cool.

Anyways...

In some ways, Ico is the very opposite of that other castle-based actioner, Capcom's Devil May Cry. DMC took out all the slower aspects of survival horror - the puzzles, the item collection, the endless cut-scenes - and concentrated fully on massively beefed up combat. Ico goes the opposite way....mostly.
For a start, it would be unfair to characterize this as survival horror, despite the ruined, gothic setting and the devilish monsters attempting to halt your escape. Your time in the castle is spent almost exclusively solving puzzles, to the extent that what little combat there is often merely serves as an incentive to finish things quicker, a countdown in which to secure the way forward. Fortunately, however, the game has also taken DMC's lead in abandoning the tedious search for broken amulets, rusty keys and fresh ammunition that so often bogs down these games. Cut-scenes are also mercifully infrequent.

So what's it all about? Ico is actually the name of the small boy you play and those horns aren't just a comedy hat. The locals in his home village - who presumably all voted Conservative at the last election - couldn't cope with these cow-spikes growing from a child's head, so instead of giving him some Lego and a really, really strong nail file for his 12th birthday (when the horns grew really big), they decided to brick him up in a second-hand castle and run away. Clearly, such a horny boy was bad luck they reasoned, although being locked in a castle to die is probably worse luck. But that's just me....
Once there, he dreams of a pale, ethereal princess who has suffered much the same fate as him. He immediately plans to escape and rescue her from evil, from her demonic tormentors.

So there's not much in the way of fighting, few weapons and nothing to discover except the way out. Sounds a little dull? Wrong. While the pace is undeniable slow, the game is never boring. Despite how it may appear on paper, the whole is somehow greater than the sums of its parts - each aspect combines with the next to create a highly individual, incredibly absorbing and bizarrely calming experience. Ico has an undeniable charm that cuts through the fake marble Veneer of Cynicism which I usually enjoy using, exposing the softer (but still cheap and cheesy) Chipboard of Wonder beneath.

Yes, there are parallels with the Tomb Raider games. There are boxes to push and pull, levers to locate and gaping chasms to bridge, but Ico has taken on none of the irritating flaws of those games. For instance, you aren't forced to spend hours searching for a key or an artifact to solve the 'puzzle' of how to open the next door, and you never need divine some random configuration of objects to do it either. What doors there are simply need one thing to open them, and that's your rescued princess, Yorda. She alone has the magical ability to unfasten the bizarre portals that occasionally block your way. Actually getting her to them is the trick though, as her frailty limits the routes she can take. She is rarely, if ever, capable of following the same route as Ico.

You won't think of it in such a segmented fashion anyway, as getting the 'key' to the door is not the puzzle...or what passes for puzzles all too often. The doors never feel like they're the ultimate goal anyway, as the occasional loading pauses in them are never long enough to break the continuity and ruin the otherwise seamless journey
Ico uses the three dimensions very well, so between you and the exit is a brain-teasing collection of ladders, hanging chains, walkways, lifts and half-hidden corridors. There's always a way, and a little lateral thinking will always reveal it. And very satisfying it is once you've done it too.
What's refreshing is that the puzzles never particularly stand out as problems, small chunks that must be dealt with in order for the next bit to load. The whole game is like this; the objective is to progress and escape. There's no sense that yet another barred path has been chucked in to merely slow the pace between fights, or that you're just going through the motions. How refreshing. How Ico.

Another conspicuously absent staple of many such games is the hidden trap. There are no pits full of spikes, no collapsing floors and no strangely rhythmic bursts of steam from the walls. Despite their conclusion being so predictable, at first I kind of missed the danger: the feeling that some bastardly unseen force is throwing its deadliest shots at you and (hopefully) failing. But on reflection, such panic moments and their inevitable sudden deaths would have ruined the game's flow. You see, it's almost impossible to die in Ico.

It is, however, possible to fail. Leave Yorda alone for too long or travel too far without her and the spirits come to drag her away. These shadowy creatures are something of a pain in the arse, to be honest, as you've only got one button to fight with. it pays to look for a sealed doorway nearby before engaging them, as unlocking them fries everything in the area, saving you minutes of trashing. It also saves the occasional frustration of being repeatedly knocked down the instant you get up, which reduces you to watching as the game simply ends itself beyond your control. This is rare, it has to be said, but when it does happen it's severely irritating. Yorda is gone and it's game over.
And that's the most common way to lose in Ico. Occasionally you'll drop too far for this small boy to survive, but it's unusual. Falling by accident is reserved for the extremely shaky-handed, as this hero is one of the most intelligent yet. Approach a ladder and he'll climb it, without needing several extra button presses and a yes/no question and answer session. Stray near a ledge and he'll catch hold and save himself. Climb up a chain and he'll turn automatically to allow for the platform at the top, instead of stubbornly halting and waiting for you to press the 'let go' button accidentally. Ico does all the things it's obvious you want to do with the smallest amount of hassle, again leaving you free to enjoy the journey. How refreshing.

Yorda is also winningly bright, despite her British, washed out look. You can call her at any time with R1, and the camera pans to show her location. The only time she won't respond is if she physically can't reach you - nevertheless, she's fairly game and can be coaxed to leap into the void or struggle up a rock face as long as you're there to wrap your arms around her and comfort her. Aww, shucks.
Despite all the danger and intense burgeoning love among the flagstones, Ico remains incredibly chilled out. How? There's the lack of extraneous objectives; the absence of equipment screens and weapon management; the brief loading times; the continuous gameplay; the way the protagonists slump into a sofa to save; the three-dimensional thoughtfests of the puzzles and the quiet, distant nature of the voices. And then there are the ambient sounds. It's so calm, and even when you're under attack there's nothing intrusive, no music - just a forbidding, ominous escalation of sounds. It's really a very charming experience and one that's just about as original in concept as you can expect a game whilst remaining playable.

Ico is highly unusual in eschewing violence without tipping right over into sickeningly cute territory. It's calm, entertaining and even makes you feel quite chivalrous. So unless you absolutely, positively have to kill everyone in the room, spend some time with Sir Ico and Lady Yorda.

Reviewer's Score: 8/10, Originally Posted: 11/15/02, Updated 11/15/02