Ico

I guess it's important not to get too inflated by hype.

Ico is one of those games that is constantly touted as the answer to the eternal question "Are games art?" Knowing little more than this set me up for a grand, emotional tour de force. What I got was a sweet game, evocative and unusual, perhaps groundbreaking for its time, but more of a breath of air than a tornado of change.

Ico's main goal is simplicity. There are no gauges, points, equipment, statistics, or other mechanical distractions from the gameplay. There is very little story, with perhaps two dozen lines spoken in the entire game, all in artificial languages. For most of the game, your main character is armed with a stick (upgradable to a sword and one or two secret weapons much later on). You have no health points; you're either alive or dead.

The little introduction we are given shows us the game's protagonist, the eponymous Ico, a boy born with horns which is apparently unlucky in some way. He is ceremoniously shoved into a stone receptacle in a giant temple, apparently to die. By luck he manages to escape and soon stumbles across the ethereal Yorda. Ico and Yorda must work together to escape the ridiculously enormous temple to freedom.

The vast majority of the game consists of set puzzles. Ico's skills mainly consist of pushing and pulling boxes, lighting fires, jumping gaps, climbing ladders, and swinging from chains or ropes. He's no Prince of Persia; his abilities are cursory and just good enough to solve the puzzles he finds himself in. The play control takes some getting used to and feels awkward at times.

The main issue, though, is that Yorda can't do most of those things. While she can climb ladders and jump some gaps, most of Ico's problems aren't how to proceed himself, but how to ensure that he can take Yorda with him. If he leaves Yorda offscreen for too long, she'll be captured by shadow men and Ico will have to rush back to her to save her. If he's too late, it's game over.

Speaking of which, the shadow men will show up at other times as well. They'll never attack Ico directly, preferring to go for Yorda. In fact, they'll actively run away from Ico, meaning that beating them requires faking them out. The combat system is simplistic and little more than an afterthought, and often frustrates the puzzle in progress. It would have been better left out entirely.

The puzzles themselves are fairly prosaic. Once you understand what Ico is actually capable of doing (e.g. realizing that those little round grey things are actually bombs, or that the giant cylinders will activate if Yorda steps on them) they're relatively easy. The only real challenge is the enormous size of the areas Ico is in. It's easy to miss a block hiding away in the corner, a ledge leading to a walkway several stories up, etc.

Also challenging is the fact that Ico can't leave Yorda alone; a few of the puzzles take up multiple screens, and many times Ico can actually continue forward but needs to go back to pick up Yorda. It's sometimes hard to figure out if a new screen is part of the puzzle or essentially a barrier which Ico can't pass without getting Yorda where he is.

What of the art? It's true that Ico evokes emotion in the player. As you explore, there is no music and no sounds other than Ico's grunts and calls and the sound of birdsong or wind or waterfalls. More importantly, it's Ico's direct connection to Yorda and his caring for her that brings out caring in the player. Ico and Yorda speak different languages, so their communication is entirely through their actions. Yorda doesn't just follow Ico; if you want to get anywhere fast, you'll need to actually hold her hand and run with her. Ico will help her up steps, catch her when she jumps, and fight for her; in order to save the game, both of them must take a break together on a stone sofa. That connection is surprisingly strong.

But other than that connection, the game's claims to artistry (or those ascribed to it) aren't very apparent. The visuals are stunning, but only at times; most of the game is spent staring at the same yellowish brick, miles and miles of it. Some of the hints to story are intriguing, but others seem cliched. I personally found myself put off by the sheer size of the temple and the fact that it didn't seem to be made for any purpose other than giving Ico and Yorda puzzles. Obviously such things are common in video games, but spending all this time making a graphically realistic world and then populating it with nothing but ladders and switches just shines a light on our acceptance of it.

Ico is also surprisingly short; I finished it in less than six hours. I did have the aid of an FAQ, but I didn't use it anywhere near as much as I expected to. The PS3 HD remake version, which was the one I played, seemed to add resolution but not much texture or model complexity; it still looks like a slightly shinier PS2 game.

It's perhaps too strong a term to say Ico was a disappointment, if only because it means my expectations were too high rather than that the game wasn't good enough. Ico is a very good game, unusual and oddly emotional, but I'm not sure I would call it great. The power of Shadow of the Colossus isn't there yet; it's very slow, meandering, calm, and thoughtful, but without much to think about. In the end, it's not much more than a very pretty, haunting block pushing and climbing game, and it seems to be missing something.