The King and the Mockingbird - Cult Film Review (and links to Ico)

Paul Grimault's The King and the Mockingbird endured a tumultuous production, finally gracing screens in its completed form in 1979 after decades of legal battles and studio interference. While I had never before experienced this film, its formidable reputation preceded it. Its influence has echoed through animation history, most notably in the works of Studio Ghibli's luminaries, Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata, both of whom readily acknowledge it as a key inspiration. Intriguingly, its tendrils of inspiration have also stretched into the realm of video games, particularly the evocative and emotionally resonant experience of Fumito Ueda's Ico, which, in turn, provided a spark for Hidetaka Miyazaki's Dark Souls series.

The narrative, a loose adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen's The Shepherdess and the Chimney Sweep, unfolds in the tyrannical kingdom of Takicardia, ruled by the grotesque and insecure King Charles V + III = VIII = XVI. His towering, multi-layered palace, which serves as a character in itself, sets the stage for a whimsical yet poignant tale of forbidden love between a charming chimney sweep and a beautiful shepherdess, both escaping from their painted portraits. Their flight from the King's clutches, aided by the sardonic and wise Mockingbird, who also acts as a raconteur and narrator, takes them through the bizarre and often menacing levels of the palace and the sprawling city below.

What makes The King and the Mockingbird so enduring is its unique blend of visual poetry and thematic depth. The animation is fluid and expressive, shifting seamlessly between moments of slapstick comedy and breathtaking beauty. The architectural designs, inspired by the works of Gérard Trignac mixed with the Parisian and Venetian influences of artists like de Chirico and Magritte, create a sense of otherworldly grandeur and underlying unease. This very atmosphere, where the familiar is twisted into something dreamlike and slightly unsettling, finds a clear echo in the world of Ico. The connection is not in direct plot points but in the shared atmosphere and visual language. There are many parallels including:

  • the towering architecture acting as a character; King Charles's colossal palace dominating Takicardia and the enigmatic castle in Ico serving as a central, almost sentient location,

  • both labyrinthine structures emphasizing the protagonists' vulnerability,

  • the unlikely partnership between the chimney sweep and shepherdess against the King, reflecting Ico and Yorda's reliance on each other for survival,

  • a shared sense of melancholy and isolation permeating both works, highlighting the protagonists' outcast status,

  • a minimalist narrative style favoring visual storytelling and environmental clues over heavy exposition and the pervasive surrealism and dreamlike quality present in Takicardia's illogical elements and the abstract nature of Ico’s castle.

Overall, I thought that The King and the Mockingbird was a triumph of animation. It is a film that defies easy categorization and I can see why it continues to inspire generations of artists, even those who do not have nostalgia attached to it; it's a shimmering, surreal dreamscape wended with poetic dialogue and striking visuals that lingers long after the final frame. It is filled with both wonder and a touch of melancholy which lasts long after the film has ended. It was a wonderful experience and stands as a testament to artistic vision triumphing over adversity.

The Works of Fumito Ueda: A Different Perspective on Video Games - Book Review (and some thoughts)

I have a deep love for the trilogy of videogames made by Fumito Ueda. Over the course of two decades, he has made just three games but they are all unique and have pushed forward the argument that videogames can be art. I have read the novelisation behind his first work Ico: Castle in the Mist by Miyuki Miyabe (which I've reviewed here) and the deep dive Boss Fight book about his second game Shadow of the Colossus (reviewed here) but I still do not know much about the artist himself. Author Damien Mecheri looks into the early life, inspiration and creation of this most illusive of auteurs in his book The works of Fumito Ueda: A Different Perspective on Video Games. He does this through trawling through interviews, video footage and research rather than access to the great man himself but what is revealed is fascinating stuff indeed.

We get a brief biography including the fact that he wasn't a keen student but rather more interested in manga and videogames. He became as Art Student and was inspired by the works of Giorgio de Chirico, Gérard Trignac, Giovanni Battista Piranesi and Hiyao Miyazaki. When he got his first job it was with a local television company and then a computer graphics company who used Light Wave 3D. He made his first games with Warp (best know for the cult games D and Enemy Zero) before being given an opportunity to pitch to Sony.

The first section of the book is about 50 pages and is entitled Creation. It looks at the making of the three games Ueda is known for: Ico, Shadow of the Colossus and The Last Guardian.

Ico
Mecheri breaks down the inspiration for Ico and it makes for a fascinating drop down the Google rabbit hole. He discusses the well known games Prince of Persia and Another World (both of which I'd played and completed many year ago) but there were more obscure inspiration that I looked into as I watched the animation The King and the Mockingbird and Galaxy Express 999.

Some facts that I found particularly fascinating were:
- The economy of means and design by subtraction, both Ueda's calling cards, meant the game was created by a maximum of 23 people.
- Rather than photorealism he was looking for emotional realism, the way characters acted and interacted had to have that universality of human connection. I believe it is due to these reasons that Ico is still well regarded and remembered today.
- The lack of lore in the game imbues the architecture, the third character in the game of you will, with a mixture of awe and wonder and some level of menace. The strangely cohesive whole, which starts off looking like many non-Euclidian spaces from gaming back in that era, actually does work as a cohesive space. If you can see it, you will probably go there sometime in the game.

When I played Ico, over 20 years ago now, it was full of intrigue and mystery. Why was there a boy with horns? Why was he being taken to the temple? Why was he placed in the sarcophagus? What had happened to the people of this land? The wonderful thing about this game was that very little is revealed to you, even when you finished the game. The world seemed rich and immersed in a history which I didn't know, no lore was presented in Ico but you could create your own narrative through events and the structures within the castle. A lot you had to interpret and guess and, for someone who likes media that makes you think and question, that suited me just fine.

Playing the game I fell in love with the simple but powerful mechanic of not understanding my partner Yorda, but knowing that I had to help her escape the castle. The game itself is an escort mission but not annoying; you develop a protective bond with this ethereal girl who you can't communicate with. The bond of holding hands is powerful and later on when you are without her it feels terrible, not many escort missions can achieve that.

Shadow of the Colossus
For his next game, Ueda wanted an adventure and action game that did away with superfluous low level minions but concentrated on the boss battles. His idea was that the player should have all the tools required from the beginning of the game and that it would be a matter of skill rather than inventory that would win the day.

When I bought the game on release day I loved the opening. We were given some narrative but events felt bigger than us and the world seemed to have existed before our character even comes into play, it seems like a lived in world yet so very little is told; Why was there a dead girl dead? Who was Wander and what was his relationship to the girl? What was this desolate place and how did Wander know of the prophecy to cheat death and bring people back from the other side? Who were the Colossi and who was the voice guiding you to destroy such beautiful creatures?

There seemed to be a connection and it felt that if you worked hard enough you could understand, but with the economy of design and lack of voice over work and cut scenes explaining the story, you could create your own narrative based on what you saw and felt. There is no ludonarrative dissonance; the world was free to explore and it was only by holding the sword aloft that you were directed where to go. Meeting the different colossi for the first time was such a thrill, very few games have matched the sheer awe of meeting these mysterious creatures for the first time. As you fulfilled your dreaded destiny and killed these mighty beasts there was a feeling of remorse and regret. After each killings there was a sense of futile interactivity as the black tendrils enveloped you and left their mark on our slowly decaying body.

Both Ico and SoTC still resonates with me and this is in no small part due to their phenomenal soundtracks. The SotC score in particular resonates with me still and was created by Kou Ootani, who also soundtracked the wonderful Haibane Renmei (one of my favourite anime).

The Ico OST is scarce but perfectly pitched for key events, like the original Prince of Persia game. SotC has an emotive score full of sadness but also adventure, it suits the mood perfectly and both soundtracks are masterclasses on scoring for a game and how much a score can lend to an overall games impact.

The Last Guardian
Ueda planned his next game to be about the relationship between a boy and an animal, as he noticed a lot of people had reacted very emotionally to the Wander-Agro dynamic.

Some facts that I found particularly fascinating were:
- He wanted Trico to behave like an adolescent, not always reacting to instructions immediately or positively.
- He wanted a quicker turnaround time on the game so pushed for R and D first before going into the planning stage.
- With the game falling behind schedule Ueda left Sony but worked with them through his newly formed company Gen Design.
- Other Sony studios pooled together to get the game back on track and PS4 ready.
- The game did okay but well below expectations. However, it did recoup it's production costs as it wasn't that expensive, especially when compared to Western development costs at the time.

I bought the PS4 and The Last Guardian on the same day. In fact, I got the PS4 specifically to play the game. Now, there were a few other games of interest but this was the one for me.
I found the game to be full of interesting ideas and the art style was beautiful but I did find it lacking. It was a singular game and I appreciated it for trying something very different at a time when games had become a bit safe and less adventurous. The soundtrack was good but it didn't get into my soul like the precious two games. I think it missed the Outani score from the second game in particular.

The next section then looks at Universe, this is the interconnected worlds that can be seen within the game--dependent upon the interpretation of the player. The Castle in the Mist, the Forbidden Lands and the ancient structures with the evil eye of the Nest all seem to be a interconnected world, this was well before Marvel movies popularised this idea

Universe looks at how Ueda's themes are open to interpretation by each player, he doesn't provide definite answers. Like the abstract art he so loves, Ueda has intentionality in his works but how people react and experience the games are all valid. However, there are certain motiffs that cover Ueda's games including horns, Chiaroscuro, fatality and sacrifice,

The chapter, 'In the Shadow of Tales' was fascinating to me as an an old Anthropology student. When Bruno Battelheim and Joseph Campbell are mentioned my eyebrows shot up with interest- this was my bag and what I was looking for within this book.

I like the authors description of the difference between a tale, myth and legend:
'A tale is, first and foremost, an account that only exists for itself. While it has the power to pass on morals or values, it nevertheless doesn’t explain anything. A legend, on the other hand, has a more general basis on actual historical elements, but mostly transforms them to embellish or intensify the reality. As for a myth, it has a superior element: belief. A myth is a symbolic explanation of how the world, or nature, functions and has served as social, philosophical and ethical bases for numerous civilizations.'

The rough gist is stories predate the printing press, libraries and even writing itself. Myths and legends, Fables and folklore are passed down from generation to generation, across the years. We create and share them, and in turn, they create us as well, by becoming the building blocks of our cultures. They teach us our values and what we believe, and they hold us together, across diaspora and against the ticking of the clock. We remember our Ancestors, they world they lived in, and the things they believed through the stories they left behind.

There are myths that millions of people are familiar with-the ones that are shared across an entire culture or religion, that tell us how our world wad created, the origins of life, of gods and Goddesses and spirits. Even though they are written in books now these originated from the oral tradition, stories told around campfires or sung in ballads.
Even though in much of the West, faith in religious institutions has massively declined, the interest in myths has remained steadfast as their power lie not in their truthfulness, but rather what they make us feel and what they inspire.

Chapter 3 looks at the music and the sound design. For Ico, Mecheri discusses the sound spatialisation that compliments the colossal castle structure and cavernous rooms, creating a sense of isolation and foreboding in the echoey spaces. The soundtrack was composed by Michiru Ōshima and Pentagon with a couple of tracks created by Masaaki Kaneko.

The author then looks at the majestic Kou Ootani score for SotC, which is glorious with orchestral swells and contemplative moments.

I own the CD of Ico and Shadow of the Colossus and the vinyl for Colossus too so these are formative videogame scores for me. Mecheri also looks at Takeshi Furukawa's The Last Guardian soundtrack which was performed by the London Symphony Orchestra.

Chapter 4, Decryption, looks at how the games were received amongst different communities, the reviewers, gamers and the public. Mecheri looks at how many fans of Ico and Shadow of the Colossus spoke about "poetic intuition–the impression of experiencing an elegant, magical, touching and inspiring work." And he's not wrong. When I experienced the games I was going through an existential crisis, as many late teens go through, and the games were a salve of sorts for my anxieties. There was the usual heated debate about 'art games' but in a world of Journey, Dear Esther and Gone Home, what constitutes a game isn't set in stone.

He then does a deep dive into art vs Art and it is a thoughtful and considered discussion. He asserts that Ernst Hans Gombrich was correct in his 1959s book The Story of Art, when he says, “There really is no such thing as Art. There are only artists. [...] There is no harm in calling all these activities art as long as we keep in mind that such a word may mean very different things in different times and places, and as long as we realize that Art with a capital A has no existence. For Art with a capital A has come to be something of a bogey and a fetish.”

The focus of art history and how it was thr preserve of the elite, until pretty recently, is fascinating and well presented. We travel through the Greek mimises to Kandinsky, to Cubism to Nouveau Roman. For anyone interested in the whole 'Are Video games art?' debate, this is the book you've been waiting for as both sides are presented is a fairly balanced way respectfully. For me, art is any medium where a unique piece has been created which elicit an emotion, be it deeply moving or introspection inducing. Art can exist in many mediums but can be unique in the specificities of the medium it is presented in be it paint, sculpture, collage, digital imaging or video games.

Mecheri looks at auteur theory and the power of an individual with a stylistic and thematic consistency.

Approaching the end of the book, Mecheri discusses the impact that the games of Ueda have had on the industry. He discusses numerous video games and creatives who cite it as an inspiration including Hideo Kojima, Peter Molyneaux, Neil Druckman, Yoko Taro and many more.

Conclusion
I love Ueda's trilogy of games as they stood apart from what was the prevailing gaming theory and design of the time. In think I prefer his use of narrative through gameplay rather than having an audio log/ diary pages/ weird graffiti on walls as I always find it feels like the need of the authors to assert themselves in games. This can be oppressive at times. Don't get me wrong, I don't think all games need to have stories or benefit from not having stories but there should be careful editing and curation of the information shared.
The influence of his games has been keenly felt across the medium and I am glad that I had a chance to read this deep dive into this enigmatic creatic and true genius.

LINK- Ico and SOTC: Reflections of a Gaming Life

LINK- Shadow of the Colossus (Boss Key): Book Review

LINK- The Last Guardian: Video Game Review

LINK- An Ico Retrospective

LINK- Let’s All Create a ‘New Normal’.

LINK- Ms Marvel Can Change the World

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Children of the Stones: Cult TV Series Review

Ico: Castle in the Mist- Book Review

The book, Ico: Castle in the Mist is written by Miyuki Miyabe in 2004 and, when it was written, was her first novelisation. In her foreword she states that this book is her interpretation and extrapolation of the story within the game. It is not a walkthrough or explanation according to the game: it is her own narrative which uses the game as a stimulus. I love this idea as it means she can be creative and not ruin the mystique of this singular game that is open to interpretation.

The handholding mechanic was a groundbreaking moment in gaming history, transcending the usual tropes and expectations of the time. The simple act of holding Yorda's hand was not just a gameplay mechanic but a powerful emotional connection that resonated deeply with players. The lack of heavy exposition and reliance on environmental storytelling was also a bold choice that paid off. The mysterious and haunting atmosphere of the castle, combined with the subtle hints of lore, created a sense of wonder and unease that perfectly complemented the emotional journey of Ico and Yorda.

The novel reads like a prequel to the game that gradually flows into the Ico game we know and love. It then continues the game's narrative adding extra detail and dimensions onto those original story beats with more characterisation and detail.

The tale starts with the birth of a horned child, meaning there will be a sacrifice to the castle in the mist when he comes of age at 13 years. It is a terrible sacrifice and the high priest of Toksa Village does not want to do it but the divity of the Lord of Light is contained within and there have been dreadful repercussions beforehand so it is a cost that must be paid.  
Inside the castle, Ico meets Yorda, a waifish pale young girl who is kept in an iron cage. Together the young victims of circumstance plan their escape, all the while trying to understand why the castle demands a blood sacrifice.
Ico keeps having visions of a horned knight who calls him 'my son' and sees glimpses of Yorda's life but what can it all mean?

I haven't really read many novelisations since the 80s and early 90s, when they were a huge deal, but this is a solid retelling and enhancement of the game's narrative. We get the story told from Ico's point of view for the first third of the book, followed by Yorda's story and then the final part of the book is the ending with the great escape.

Overall, I liked the novel as it made me reflect on the obscure lore presented within the game but also it is a pretty solid novelisation in and of itself. However, I felt it was overlong in places and the story didn't really need over 350 pages to be told. I enjoyed the book then but, with a greater appreciation of literature and time being more squeezed, it's not one I'd recommend to every reader, just fans of the game.

An Ico Retrospective

It’s hard to believe but Ico was released 20 years ago today in Japan and so I thought I'd do a retrospective on one of my favourite games of all time.

 I had a Nintendo 64 and PS1 and my interest in gaming was waning. It wasn't because the games coming out were bad but rather I was at university, discovering the joys of clubbing and just generally socialising. I worked part-time as a youth worker in a youth center in East London, one of the ones always in the papers because of the spate of regular stabbings, and we were creating gaming collages for our games room. It was through this that I saw a review of Ico and the art style of the game intrigued me.

The Ico cardboard cover is in the style of famed artist De Chirico and it was in part this art style that intrigued me. I saw a wrapped copy of Ico for sale at my local second hand video game shop and so I bought the game and a PS2 that same day. The packed cardboard box edition with postcards had me impressed and then I played the game and it blew me away. The first introduction to the character is full of mystery and very little is explained. Why is there a boy with horns? Why is he being taken to the temple? Why is he placed in the sarcophagus? What happened to the people of this land?

The wonderful thing about this game is that very little is revealed to you, even when you finish the game. The world seemed rich and immersed in a history which I didn't know, no lore was presented in Ico but you could create your own narrative through events and the structures within the castle. A lot you had to interpret and guess and for someone who likes media that makes you think and question, that suited me just fine.

Playing the game I fell in love with the simple but powerful mechanic of not understanding my partner Yorda, but knowing that I had to help her escape the castle. The game itself is an escort mission but not annoying; you develop a protective bond with this ethereal girl who you can't communicate with. The bond of holding hands is powerful and later on when you are without her it feels terrible, not many escort missions can achieve that.

When Team Ico released Shadow of the Colossus 4 years later and, after a hefty 11 year wait, The Last Guardian the DNA of Ico was in both. In those games we are given some narrative but events feel bigger than us and the world seems to have existed before our character comes into play, it seems like a lived in world yet so very little is told. There seems to be a connection that you felt if you worked hard enough you could understand, but with the economy of design and lack of voice over work and cut scenes explaining the story, you could create your own narrative based on what you saw and felt.

I have all the Team Ico games but these PS2 original games and soundtracks are my favourite.

There is a majesty to Team Ico games as often there is no ludo-narrative dissonance; the worlds are free to explore as you fulfill your destiny .

These games still resonates with me many years after the release of Team Ico's first game,  and this is in no small part due to their phenomenal soundtracks which were both created by Kou Ootani, who also sound tracked the wonderful Haibane Renmei (one of my favourite anime).

The Ico OST is scarce but perfectly pitched for key events, like the original Prince of Persia game. SOTC has an emotive score full of sadness but also adventure, it suits the mood perfectly and both soundtracks are masterclasses on scoring for a game and how much a score can lend to an overall games impact. The Last Guardian has a sweeping and majestic score and I listen to all three quite often.

So, on its 20th anniversary I want to doff my cap to the stunning Ico, a truly visionary and singular game.

LINK- The Last Guardian: Video Game Review

LINK- Shadow of the Colossus- Book Review

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK: Let’s All Create a ‘New Normal’.

LINK- Ms Marvel Can Change the World

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Streets of Rage 2 OST on Vinyl Review

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Children of the Stones: Cult TV Series Review

AER: Memories of Old- Video Games As Art

AER: Memories of Old is a game that owes much to Ico, Journey and Rime in terms of its gameplay style but what sets it apart is its gorgeous, low-poly aesthetic. Travelling the world in my 4 hour or so playthrough I was constantly stopping to take screenshots of gorgeous vistas, almost painterly in their style.

The game is a beautifully meditative experience and it nails the flying aspect, as your avatar changes form into a bird to explore the stunning world. Check out my screenshots below.

Shadow of the Colossus- Book Review

I'm a habitual podcast listener and have been following a couple of gaming podcasts for over 7 years. Whilst listening to Retronauts, a retro gaming podcast, Nick Suttner discussed his book Shadow of the Colossus which he stated provided an analysis of how Shadow of the Colossus (and Ico) helped reshape the video game industry and influenced the direction of many games that followed it.
I purchased the book based on his insight of the games during the podcast, hoping it would be an in depth study of the game and its history. When it arrived I was surprised to see how slight it was, yet having read it the length seems just right for the subject matter.

A slight but essential book for fans of the game.

The book has a distinct structure, the chapters start with Suttner talking about his life at the time of playing the game in a memoir format, he then talks about his playthrough and then he reflects upon what the game and its creators are telling us. The book had me thinking about the Shadow of the Colossus and how it has been, retrospectively, a formative game for me.

I remember, waited with bated breath for the release of Shadow of the Colossus. Ever since I had played Ico, the stunningly beautiful puzzle platformer that had been released 4 years beforehand I knew that Team Ico were special and Studio Director Fumito Ueda was a true auteur.
I owned an N64 and also a PS2, but I pretty much only bought Sony's machine for Ico to be honest. Obviously, I loved the PS2 and its amazing catalogue of games but Ico was my impetus to pick the machine up in the first place.

I picked up Shadow of the Colossus on the day of release from my local Game store as soon as it opened at 9:30am. I remember vividly walking home with that special feeling that comes from buying a sealed game and I wasn't disappointed. As I opened the shrink wrap I was pleasantly surprised to see that, like Ico, the game box was a cardboard one and postcards were contained within. I still have my original copy of the PS2 game that I bought all those years ago, unable to part with it even when it had quite a high resale value.

Ico and SOTC games and soundtracks.

Ico and SOTC games and soundtracks.

I played Shadow of the Colossus over the next week. I sat immersed in my bedroom night after night until I finally beat the game. This involved defeating 16 huge colossi in a boss rush before that was a thing. After finishing the game I knew that it was a classic and it went straight into my top 5 gaming list. I realised at the time that this was a singular visionary game quite unlike anything that I had played before but I didn't know that it would remain that way almost 15 years later. I find that moments from the game or the music drift back to me and I am transported to a university me, transfixed in front of the screen cross-legged on my blue carpeted bedroom floor.

At that time, my thought was that, while it was perhaps not my favorite game ever, it was probably one of the best I'd ever played. As the months went by I found that my mind would often drift back and that it had become a formative part of who I was. At the time I thought Shadow of the Colossus would lead to a different genre or way of making games but this didn't come to fruition until years later, with the game cited as influencing Journey, The Last of Us, Dark Souls and many indie games too.

When the PS3 remaster of the Team Ico Collection came along I avoided it. I very rarely visit games from the PS2 era as so few stand the test of time and I didn't want to ruin my wonderful memories of the game. However, when it was announced that the PS4 would be receiving a ground up remake of the game I became intrigued. A lot of the mechanics of the original SOTC were great for the time but now would seem archaic, so hearing that there would be the option of the original as well as a new control scheme had me intrigued. Plus Blue Point is an amazing studio with an excellent pedigree at remakes. I bought the game on pre-order and it has joined my gaming pile of shame but I hope to get to it within the next couple of months. I look forward to revisiting the Forbidden Lands and reflecting upon the game Suttner style.

Overall, the book is an interestingly structured text that works because I have a deeply personal connection with the game and reading Suttner's memoir sections had me reflecting on how the books, comics, anime, manga, music and video games in my life have affected me similarly to how Shadow of the Colossus affected him.

Rime- Video Games As Art

Rime is a beautiful, melancholy adventure game in which you play the role of a young boy who is washed up on a mysterious island. Over the course of 6 or so hours you solve a series of environmental puzzles to piece together just what happened to your character and how you ended up on the island. The game is similar to Ico in terms of gameplay and stylistically like Journey, but lacks the heart and soul of either title, however it is worth a play to enjoy the stunning art and powerful ending.

The Last Guardian- Video Games As Art

The Last Guardian has been a decade in the making. Fumito Ueda, the creator of Ico and Shadow of the Colossus, started the game in 2007 but it seemed like the game would never see the light of day, missing a whole console generation in its development. However the game, which casts you as a young boy with strange tattoo-like markings on his arm trying to navigate a mysterious world with an the unusual giant bird/ dog/ cat hybrid, Trico, was well worth the wait and is a game of gorgeous majesty. The images below are screen shots I took on my play through and I hope show that video games can have the power to inspire and awe, like the best art does.

The Last Guardian - Video Game Review

It's been over 11 years since video game auteur Fumito Ueda released his last game, Shadow of the Colossus and so after a protracted development period, which saw a whole console generation go by with no release, to say that I was ready to devour The Last Guardian whole in big gaming chunks on release is an understatement. As a huge fan of both Ico and SOTC I, like most of the gaming world, was excited to see what Ueda had been working so hard and long on but instead of playing it from start to finish I decided to savour it like a nice glass of Shloer and I'm glad I did.

The game itself is a slow, meditative game centred around the interactions between the boy and a bird, chicken gryphon-type creature called Trico. Their relationship is beautifully realised and the trust that builds between them feels well-earnt over time. Unlike other AI in other game I have played Trico feels like a real being with his own thoughts and feelings. As a former cat owner the love Trico gives you when you stroke, talk and pull out the spears from his flanks feels wonderful and has a truthiness to it .

There are times in the game where I have wanted to stay in the moment with Trico and not move forward, because I am afraid of what might happen to him. I know that Ueda creates wonderful narratives but they always end in a powerful downbeat way and I don't want that for these characters, maybe that's why I'm playing this game so slowly and cautiously. Instead I'm enjoying seeing Trico run through the fields after struggling through tight corridors, and I'm loving seeing him roll in a huge puddle and shaking himself dry.

Ueda is a world builder but he does it all through symbolism. In this mystical, silent world less is more but it feels like there is a whole mythos and backstory there if you look hard enough for it.

The music is beautifully subtle and complements the game, emerging at key moments and there is no onscreen HUD, except for controller hints which I wish I could turn off, and so the beauty of the world is there for you to enjoy.

The game has its faults and does feel unpolished which is surprising for a game which has been in development for over 10 years. The camera and controls can be clunky, some gameplay elements and transition scenes aren't smooth or clear and it's not always clear which route to take but all this didn't ruin the game for me. Ueda has created something, which like the rest of his back catalogue is timeless, it isn't perfect and many will gripe at it's shortcomings but for those willing to look beyond these it has been well worth the journey. I've enjoyed it so far.

Ico and Shadow of the Colossus- Reflections On A Gaming Life

Ico and Shadow of the Colossus were released 10 years ago and so I thought I'd do a retrospective on some of my favourite games of all time.

 I had a Nintendo 64 and PS1 and my interest in gaming was waning. It wasn't because the games coming out were bad but rather I was at university, discovering the joys of clubbing and just generally socialising. I worked part-time as a youth worker in a youth center in East London, one of the ones always in the papers because of the spate of regular stabbings, and we were creating gaming collages for our games room. It was through this that I saw a review of Ico and the art style of the game intrigued me.

The Ico cardboard cover is in the style of famed artist De Chirico and it was in part this art style that intrigued me. I saw a wrapped copy of Ico for sale at my local second hand video game shop and so I bought the game and a PS2 that same day. The packed cardboard box edition with postcards had me impressed and then I played the game and it blew me away. The first introduction to the character is full of mystery and very little is explained. Why is there a boy with horns? Why is he being taken to the temple? Why is he placed in the sarcophagus? What happened to the people of this land? The wonderful thing about this game is that very little is revealed to you, even when you finish the game. The world seemed rich and immersed in a history which I didn't know, no lore was presented in Ico but you could create your own narrative through events and the structures within the castle. A lot you had to interpret and guess and for someone who likes media that makes you think and question, that suited me just fine.

Playing the game I fell in love with the simple but powerful mechanic of not understanding my partner Yorda, but knowing that I had to help her escape the castle. The game itself is an escort mission but not annoying; you develop a protective bond with this ethereal girl who you can't communicate with. The bond of holding hands is powerful and later on when you are without her it feels terrible, not many escort missions can achieve that.

When Team Ico, the creators behind Ico released Shadow of the Colossus I bought it the day it came out and played it solidly for a week. At the beginning of SOTC we are given some narrative but events feel bigger than us and the world seems to have existed before our character comes into play, it seems like a lived in world yet so very little is told; Why is Mono dead? Who is Wander and what is his relationship to Mono? What is the desolate place and how did Wander know of the prophecy to cheat death and bring people back from the other side? Who are the Colossi and who is the voice guiding you to destroy such beautiful creatures?

There seems to be a connection that you felt if you worked hard enough you could understand, but with the economy of design and lack of voice over work and cut scenes explaining the story, you could create your own narrative based on what you saw and felt. There is no ludo-narrative dissonance; the world is free to explore and it is only by holding the sword aloft that you are directed where to go. Meeting the different colossi for the first time was such a thrill, very few games have matched the sheer awe of meeting these mysterious creatures for the first time. As you fulfil your dread destiny and kill these mighty beasts there is a feeling of remorse and regret. After each killings there is a futile interactivity as the black tendrils envelop you and leave their mark on your slowly mottling skin, a mark of your sin.

These games still resonates with me 10 years after the release of Team Ico's first game,  and this is in no small part due to their phenomenal soundtracks which were both created by Kou Ootani, who also sound tracked the wonderful Haibane Renmei (one of my favourite anime). The Ico OST is scarce but perfectly pitched for key events, like the original Prince of Persia game. SOTC has an emotive score full of sadness but also adventure, it suits the mood perfectly and both soundtracks are masterclasses on scoring for a game and how much a score can lend to an overall games impact.

I look forward to The Last Guardian and wait, like most of the world, with unquenchable excitement at what Fumito Ueda, the auteur of Team Ico has spend a whole console generation to produce.
 

Those Little Moments in Games

Many games nowadays are about spectacle, those amazingly honed set pieces that wouldn't look out of place in a Hollywood production. But what about those quiet more contemplative moments in games, moments that stay with you long after the end credits roll? Well I'm sure we all have them but these are some of my favourites in no particular order. If you can think of some more let me know. Oh and BTW Spoilers alert!

Red Dead Redemption- John Marston entering Mexico to that Jose Gonzales track. When I played the game the sun was slowly setting in the horizon and I had my horse at a gentle gallop to take in the beautiful scenery.

 

Superbrothers Swords and Sworcery- This game has many moments like sitting at the Moon Grotto or going to the Concert in the Woods but for me the ending as you float down the stream dead sticks out. Perhaps it would have been insincere to have the Sythian survive her wofeul erand.

 

Fallout 3- This is one of the most breathtaking moment I have ever experienced in a game. You open the vault door and with the sun blinding you, your eyes adjust to the light. Then you look out and you see the Washington Monument with huge chunks missing and the Capitol Building with part of the dome caved in- you realise just how fragile the world really is...


Assassins Creed 2- It's a-me Mario! Nuff said.

 

Ico- In a game about friendship and love the moment that most sticks with me is sitting down with Yorda. A moment of respite and peace in a hostile world.

 

Bioshock Infinite- This game upped the ante from the original Bioshock. The opening when you ascend into the sky and enter Columbia will stick with me for a long time. The scene with the candles and baptism is really spellbinding.


Journey- This game is full of moments but the ending where you die, just before reaching the mountains zenith is heartbreaking. However the journey is not over, you come back and travel the world as a spirit- this game is transcendant!

 

Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons- This game is beautiful to look at, rather like those strange Eastern Block country animations and Jim Henson's The Storyteller style art prevalent in the late 70's and early 80's in particular. The ending is a real heartwrencher, I completed this game with my cousin and we both sat there in shock and full of despair. Get the tissues ready!

 

Final Fantasy 6- The opera scene where Celes poses as the Opera singer Maria and turns in a legendary performance. At the time this blew my mind!

 

Links Awakening- The Windfish waking up is a masterpiece on the Gameboy. This is one of my favourite Zelda moments of all time!

 

Monument Valley- In Monument Valley you'll guide Ida, the silent princess, through many levels that are filled with optical illusions, mysterious Crow people and more. You are all alone in this hostile world until you befriend a totem, then he dies.... slowly... in front of your eyes. Gaaaah the feels, the feels!

 

Proteus- This whole game is beautiful and full of wonderful imagery but I particularly remember the sunsets. Magical. In the video it starts at 12 minutes)


Okami- This is one of the most beautiful and underappreciated games of all time. The art style is unique and will never age but the thing that sticks with me is the marraige of the visuals to the sound, especially when the world is in bloom.

 

Thomas Was Alone- This game has some wonderful dialogue but Level 7.9 has some of the most honest writing in gaming; "James still felt weird, but he realised that everyone else was too. They were a crew of weirdos." It's difficult to convey the humanity of this game, especially because everyone in it is a quadrilateral, but trust me, it will get to you and make you think about friendships,  relationships and your past and formative years. It's that good!


Deadly Premonition- Out of all the games this was the one that will stick with me forever due to the pure weirdness and brutality of the deaths. For those who don't know a homicidal maniac known as the 'Raincoat Killer' is murdering people ritualistically. there are many horrible deaths but this one of Becky Ames is tempered with moments of beauty as she becomes a Goddess. A twisted masterpiece that needs to be played, especially for those who are fans of Twin Peaks and David Lynch.

So these are the moments of gaming that will stick with me, not all are wonderfully cheerful but they do have a beauty to them that I like. So are there parts of a game that will stay with you?

Immersive Worlds Without Photorealistic Graphics- by Anjum Razaq

With E3 over and the next generation of consoles imminent, the message being trotted out is that more photo-realistic games will lead to more emotional connections between players and the onscreen characters. Christoph Hartman, boss of 2K Games said

“To dramatically change the industry to where we can insert a whole range of emotions, I feel it will only happen when we reach the point that games are photorealistic; then we will have reached an endpoint and that might be the final console."

The theory that if the computer characters looks more realistic then more emotions will be elicited from the player is a fallacy in my opinion. Humans can elicit emotions through other means. Music, art and animation can all touch us individually. Take the claymation Frankenweenie which is a beautifully created animation that shows the relationship between a young boy and his dog. When the dog dies and the boy mourns his loss it really is touching. Even though the characters portrayed in the film are not photorealistic but merely clay models, I felt more of a connection to Victor (the young boy in Frankenweenie) than any number of 80’s action hero films starring real people. In part this was due to the well crafted characterization and storytelling but it was also due to the cinematography, music and dialogue.

Frankenweenie, a beautiful film which will make many a grown man cry... including this one! 

Scott McCloud in his seminal work ‘Understanding Comics’ wrote about the ‘Power of Abstraction’. This is the idea that simplicity is great as you project yourself onto the character. To help you understand his concept look at the image below which simply outlines his idea.

Projecting ourselves according to Scott McCloud

In my opinion, photorealism in games is not important to elicit emotion; books can do it through description and illustrations, art through use of colour and composition. We don’t need the uncanny valley like Polar Express, but we need pathos and humanity like the dead colossi in Shadow of the Colossus or the mysterious figures in Journey. In my opinion there was more emotion in Toy Story 3 than in Final Fantasy: The Spirit Within because the characters were more relatable even though the Final Fantasy people looked more human!

Tom Hanks looked scary in the Polar Express, the uncanny valley strikes again!

For games great developers know that a great game begins with a great vision and the technology is only a means to achieving that vision, never an end in itself. Game technology can express a story without a game getting in the way, but through interaction games can add to a sense of involvement in the world.

Hidetaka Miyazaki, the Game Director at From Software has said that,

“The greatest tool for narrative is the world you create for it to exist in, a well designed world could tell its story in silence”.

Here are some of the worlds which I feel act as a great writing stimulus, have a look and see what you think: