ICO

"Gaming with heart and soul"

Almost universally, ICO is hailed as one of the few games that can be truly considered a Work of Art. The emotional impact that is woven into the sublime adventure is considered enough to make it something more than a mere videogame. I don't disagree with this view, per se, but I do think that it's something of an insult towards gaming in general. There's been artistry in games for a long time now; say, in the cunning level design of a Zelda title, or in the visual finesse of a good Treasure game. It's art in the same manner as architecture or interior design, in that it has to do something other than delight the senses, but art nonetheless. It's a shame that so many gamers downplay the medium like so.

ICO is something special though. The game's brilliance is in the way it pulls you into it's world and makes you care about it's characters and their dilemma. Rather than appeal to you as a gamer, with flashy battles and spectacular rewards, it appeals to you as a human being; it's value is that of an absorbing story that you can allow yourself to be enthralled and captivated by.

Some exposition, then. ICO is a thirdperson puzzle-based adventure game, in which you control a young lad named... Ico. Because he's cursed with a set of horns, the residents of his village imprison him in a gigantic castle as some sort of sacrifice. Taking control of Ico, you'll help him escape from his tomb. After navigating a few rudimentary training rooms, you'll meet up with a fellow prisoner locked up in a cage - a beautiful young woman named Yorda, who is apparently daughter to the Queen of the castle. Ico frees the odd, ghostlike girl, and they set off to escape from the castle.

This partnership is the basis for ICO's gameplay mechanic. Using the R1 button, Yorda can be led by grasping her hand, or called to Ico's position from afar. Her AI is reliably acute - she'll find her way about the place to you from miles off with ease, and rarely gets stuck on walls or edges or the like. There's also a convincing humanity in the way she acts; hang around for a while, and she'll go for a wander or play about with the birds; if you're stuck for a long time, she'll occasionally figure out the solution herself and point it out. While not affecting the gameplay much, these little touches serve to make the character seem a little more human.

The main gameplay draw in ICO comes in the form of exploration and puzzle solving. These tasks are complicated by the presence of two separate heroes. Controlling Ico, you're nimble, reasonably strong, and combat-ready; Yorda, on the other hand, is delicate and frail, but she's the only one capable of unlocking the statue gates that are everywhere in the castle. The task then becomes to figure out how to get Yorda to where she needs to be to help you both advance. This back-and-forth dependence setup works well as an enjoyable and interesting game mechanic, and also works with the game's plot as the children rely on each other for escape.

This dynamic also makes for some pleasingly cunning puzzles. There's no 'red key for red door, 5 obvious slots for 5 obvious crests' type idiocy here. Instead, the puzzles largely regard manipulation of the castle's architecture and the surrounding environment. As such, they're always logical in their design, and rewarding once solved. It's always satisfying, having initially been absolutely stumped by the barriers and gaps in your way, to finally have Ico and Yorda push spiritedly onwards through the opened door or bridged gap.

As well as the problem-solving, the game also features some combat sections. Shortly after Ico meets Yorda, a wraith-like demon appears, and attempts to steal her away. Ico fights and kills the horrible thing with a handy 2x4, but there's an army of them, all around the castle, all desperate to capture Yorda. In your journey through the castle, every so often groups of these shadowdemons attempt to kidnap her, and you, as heroic protector of your fair lady, must kill them dead.

The combat in the game has been criticised for being overly simplistic. It's a fair claim; there's a single attack button for a single 3-hit combo, and there's no life bar at all (Ico himself cannot be killed by the demons, the game ends when they pull Yorda into one of the portals they spawn from). However, it's wholly unfair to criticise the game for this; on the contrary, it's simplicity is it's strength. Uncomplicated by fancy moves and mechanics, the combat is absorbing and tense; when a demon is dragging Yorda by the legs into a swirling hellportal, you're not thinking about which buttons to press for the 13-hit kill combo; you're thinking about whacking the bastard upside the head with your deathplank. The combat scenes are well-executed, and sit well with the rest of the game.

This 'simplicity for an absorbing gameworld' motif really covers all aspects of ICO's design. The controls are easily-grasped and responsive, and the feeling of excitedly charging about the place like a kid is communicated well. Aside from subtitles, there are never any health bars, maps, compasses or the like to distract. It's this simplicity that draws you into the story, and allows you to be absorbed in the rich gameworld.

While it may seem like heresy to some more 'hardcore' gamers, the captivating nature of the game is almost entirely due to the visuals and audio. The characters have very little dialogue and speak fictional languages(and Yorda's is unsubtitled), yet are some of the most believable and likable ever seen. This is due to many things; their spectacular design (Yorda in particular is superb - ghostly pale and barely human, yet mysteriously graceful and attractive); the quality of their animation - Ico bounds about like an excited, irrepressible child, while Yorda wanders in a more fearful, yet curious manner; and their voice acting, which is always evocative and convincing, despite lacking recognisable vocabulary. The Queen, the game's only real antagonist, makes only a few appearances, yet is suitably impressive - beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The demons are also remarkable in their design; made only of swirling black smoke and glowing blue eyes, the way they dance around the heroes and strike with sudden violence is cleverly frightening. Supreme character design runs throughout.

The castle itself is also superbly drawn. The sense of being trapped in this massive prison is communicated well through the gigantic environments, and is backed up by distant camera angles making the heroes tiny on the screen (R2 provides a handy zoom-in, though) and well-judged ambient sound effects. There's a great audiovisual artistry to it; Ico and Yorda running hand-in-hand through the castle, dwarfed by the massive architecture as the blinding sun peeks over a battlement and high winds pound the ears - memorable scenes like this are found throughout the game. Throughout, the graphics and sound are marvellously atmospheric. There's one point in the game where Ico and Yorda are separated, and the lazy sunshine is replaced by a relentless thunderstorm. Suddenly there's a genuine feeling of loneliness as you struggle up rain-drenched cliffsides, and everything is much more grim and threatening. It's a superbly-judged moment, and really shows off the game's ability to play with the emotions using only the visuals and sound.

Also worth a mention is the fact that there's very little music, as the game mostly relies on ambient SFX to strengthen the atmosphere. There's a nice subtlety to it all; the combat music is little more than some eerie groans and a single piano note, yet manages to be extremely tense. There's also a great folkish main theme (in Gaelic, no less), and some catchy menu and incidental music. Quality over quantity, it appears.

From a purely technical standpoint the game has it's flaws; textures are a little blurry and there are some clipping issues. However, the design and atmosphere of the game is so absorbing that they're easily ignored, and in some cases make things even richer - the blurry textures give the game a nice kind of soft-focus look that sits well with the ambient design. Overall ICO does something rare - through expert design and execution, the audio and visuals add up to something more than a technical display.

ICO does things that no other game does. The game itself - the puzzles and the combat and the exploration - is great, but alone, it wouldn't really be enough to make it a classic. However, the world and story that the game is wrapped up in is what makes it something special. Through superbly-expressed characters and a wonderfully-realised world, it manages to be one of the most compelling games ever created. If you can play this game without caring about the story, without being touched by the tear-jerker ending, then you're a emotionless robot with a heart of cold iron.

It's short. There's really no way around this. ICO is a short game. It's a marvellous, life-enriching experience and is as complete as it could possibly be, but it's short. This is a fact. There's some replay value - the game is wonderful enough for multiple playthroughs, and the PAL version delivers various treats in exchange for finishing the game once (Yorda's speech translated, for instance). If short games bother you, then ICO will bother you. To be honest though, it's hard to imagine the game being much longer than it is at the moment - stretching the meager plot over many hours' worth of areas would be difficult.

But who cares if it's short? ICO is sublime. It subverts popular gaming motifs of madly complex gameplay and insane technological excesses, and instead innovates and excels in every area of it's design. It manages to infuse a simple, well-designed adventure with the type of emotional weight rarely seen in games. It's in the cold terror when Yorda is dragged into one of the demon's black holes; the tension when Ico helps her make a jump over a horrifyingly deep gorge; or the glorious rush of excitement when you overcome another conundrum or barrier.

ICO is nothing less than a marvel.

Reviewer's Score: 10/10, Originally Posted: 06/08/04