Ico (2001)

My second time playing this game. I absolutely adore the atmosphere of it, not only does it give that classic PS2 nostalgic feel, it also in itself creates such a specific world that every moment playing takes you far away from our world.

The gameplay is simple but the puzzle is fun, and you really do become attached to Yorda.

I think I’ll keep coming back to this game every time a sunny day reminds me of it.

This title is a landmark in video game design, celebrated for its minimalist yet profoundly emotional approach. The MC is called Ico, a young boy born with horns, who is abandoned in a sprawling, foreboding castle. The game begins with Ico’s escape from confinement, but it quickly becomes clear that his journey is about more than just physical freedom. Along the way, he encounters Yorda, a mysterious girl trapped in the castle, and the gameplay revolves around guiding her safely through puzzles and dangerous environments.

The partnership between Ico and Yorda is central to the experience, creating a wordless narrative driven entirely by player interaction and environmental storytelling. It’s design is striking in its simplicity, there is almost no HUD, dialogue is sparse, and enemies are minimal, allowing you to focus entirely on exploration, puzzle-solving, and the growing emotional connection between the characters. The architecture of the castle, with its towering walls, narrow bridges, and vast empty halls, conveys a haunting sense of isolation, yet the presence of Yorda adds warmth and urgency to every step.

The puzzles often require teamwork, reinforcing the bond between Ico and Yorda while providing gentle but satisfying challenges. Visually, ICO is ethereal, with soft lighting, misty landscapes, and a muted color palette that enhances the sense of melancholy and wonder. The OST complements this atmosphere perfectly, with quiet, haunting melodies that evoke a sense of timelessness and introspection. Despite its simplicity, or perhaps because of it, this game achieves a profound emotional resonance, leaving you with a lingering sense of beauty and poignancy.

This is most definitely one of the best games of all time, and a must-play if you consider video-games to be art to any extent. Some may say this title shares it's world with Shadow of the Colossus, not just because of the team behind the development, but also because of a lot of similarities that they share. This is what drove me to play this title in the first place since I'm a big fan of SOTN and I there is very little content related to it's universe as of now. This title is more than a game, it’s an experience, a wordless tale of trust, courage, and connection, and it remains a timeless classic that continues to influence the medium.

Introduction

We often evaluate a game’s worth based on how fun it is to play. I like Super Smash Bros Ultimate, because the large character roster means that there’s going to be at least one character who meshes well with your personality and playstyle. I like the Resident Evil games because they combine horror with thoughtful navigation and resource management, putting you in an environment that is essentially a giant puzzle box. I like Kirby games, because while they’re extremely easy, the lack of difficulty combined with the upbeat atmosphere makes the games fun to blast through quickly.

While we all have unique preferences in what we find enjoyable, most gamers will likely agree that the majority of a game’s quality and value stems from its gameplay. So if the quality of a game’s gameplay is seen as the main reason to experience it, people who aren’t gamers will understandably be confused if you say something like, “I didn’t think the gameplay was fun, but I loved the game.”

Silent Hill 2 (the original PlayStation 2 version) is often regarded as one of the greatest horror games ever created. I completed it a little over a year ago, and I consider it one of my favorite games of all time. But if someone asked me if I liked the actual gameplay, I would probably say, “it was fine.” Because I don’t really like Silent Hill 2’s gameplay. The combat is fine, I didn’t care for its puzzles, and I find navigation much more engaging in other survival horror games such as Resident Evil. But ultimately, not all games are about their gameplay. I don’t play Silent Hill games for an action experience, I play for the story and the horror. The Metal Gear Solid games have much more enjoyable gameplay to me personally, but again, what I valued most from my time playing the series was the story and characters. It sounds weird to say, but video games can be more than just gameplay. We can value a game for its music, atmosphere, its story and its themes.

ICO is a 2001 PlayStation 2 game that I think is a good example of how games can transcend the idea of what it means to be a game.

Gameplay, World, and Map

The gameplay of ICO is extremely simple. It generally consists of the main character, a boy named Ico, escorting a girl named Yorda around a giant castle so that the two can escape it together. There are a variety of puzzles that you need to solve to progress to the next area, and they will gradually increase in difficulty as the game progresses. Some of the puzzles are very simple, such as ones where you have to light two torches on fire to open a door. Other puzzles can be more complex, with some puzzles requiring navigation between multiple areas to complete them.

Considering the vast majority of the game is an escort mission, let’s talk about the escort mechanics. To escort Yorda, you’ll generally guide her around by holding her hand. You can also call to her to come to you, but there are certain obstacles she can’t navigate on her own; she can’t climb up chains, and she’ll need help climbing up ledges, or making jumps across platforms. The fact that you pretty much constantly need to be holding her hand helps build a sense of companionship and create a bond between Ico and Yorda.

In addition to this, at certain points in the game, shadow creatures will appear and try to take her back to the queen of the castle. The main goal of these sections is not to focus on defeating the creatures, but to protect Yorda. There are two ways you can game over: falling from a great height and failing to protect Yorda. These brief combat moments range from being mediocre at best to tedious at worst. The shadow creatures are very bulky; they could have 60% of their health and I think it'd be an improvement. However, to be fair, the combat sections do a great job at conveying a feeling of danger and worry to the player. Whenever I heard the music alerting me of the shadows, my thoughts weren’t “not this again” but rather “where’s Yorda? I have to get back to Yorda now!”

In regard to the world and map, I think it’s great. You can really feel the scale of the castle, especially in moments where you are outside walking on the walls or are navigating heights over large depths. Sometimes you’ll be jumping across platforms held up by chains, other times you’ll be sidestepping against the wall, with a vast chasm beneath you.

Visuals and Aesthetics

ICO is one of many examples of how good art direction can defy graphical age. The game uses a very minimalistic artstyle. I am in particular a big fan of Yorda’s character model and design. It always seems as if she is giving off a faint white glow, indicating her “otherworldliness” to Ico. Her design contrasts well with Ico’s more rough and “wild” character design, as he instead wears colorful clothing and has horns protruding out of his head, conveying that he is an outsider, and does not belong in the castle.

As I mentioned earlier, there is a great sense of scale when exploring the castle. The game has various shots that convey the magnitude of the place you’re trying to escape. There were many times where I would be in the middle of doing something, but then I would just stop and admire the scenery: the intimidating stone walls of the castle, and beyond the castle and the water that surrounds it, where there lies a view of a distant, but enchanting forest. Overall, I think the visuals have aged quite gracefully.

Music and Sound Design

The soundtrack for the game is short (like the game itself), but I’ll talk about some tracks that I liked. The track “Who are you?” encapsulates the mystique and otherworldliness that is felt when Ico meets Yorda for the first time. The track “darkness” conveys a feeling of imminent danger and urgency each time the shadow creatures try to steal Yorda back. The track “heal” to me represents the charming bond growing between Ico and Yorda, and the feeling of two people trying to push forward despite the harshness of the world. The tracks “The Gate” and “Queen” encapsulate the otherworldliness of the castle, but in a way that invokes a feeling of sinisterness rather than curiosity. The track “Shadow” has this almost somber howling, which helps convey the tragedy of failing to save Yorda, making you feel like you are responsible for the outcome because you weren’t enough. Lastly, the track “ICO-You were there-” is the final track of the game, and represents how the ending of the folktale-like story of the game will be passed down for generations (kind of like how the influence of ICO has continued to inspire games that came out after it).

I don’t have a lot to say about sound design, but I think it works well to create a sense of serenity in the environment and atmosphere. I enjoyed hearing the sounds of nearby birds chirping or the crashing of waves against the shore of the island.

Story, Themes, and Ending

The plot and characters of the game are pretty simple, so I won’t talk much about them. That being said, to me, a story is more than just a plot. Sometimes it’s less about what happens, and more about how the game made me feel. Yes, the game is about two people escaping from the labyrinthian castle. But it’s also about helping someone in need. It’s about how a bad situation can still result in people making genuine and meaningful connections. How the relationships we form with others can allow us to grow and mature. In the beginning of the game, Ico is the more dominant character, constantly guiding Yorda around. But throughout the game, it seems like Ico’s determination rubs off on Yorda. There would be times where I would expect to help Yorda up a ledge, but to my surprise, she does it herself. Sometimes after opening a gate, instead of waiting for Ico, Yorda would dash ahead by herself. You can even notice her becoming curious about birds for example. Towards the end of the game when I was busy climbing a ladder, I noticed Yorda walking away and curiously approaching a white bird before it flew away, perhaps symbolizing her growing desire to see and know more about the outside world beyond the castle. And by the end of the game, Yorda saves Ico during the collapse, a thanks for saving her, and allowing her to truly grow as an individual and discover herself. To me some of the moments that stuck out to me the most were the save benches. They are nice moments of respite from all of the puzzle solving and shadow fighting. Sometimes after saving it’s just nice to sit there and just take in the atmosphere. It’s okay to take a break. It’s okay to rest.

Regarding the ending, there are some differences in interpretation. As I mentioned, during the collapse scene, Yorda saves Ico by sending him away on a boat. Later, Ico wakes up on a bright, almost heaven-like beach, where he finds Yorda, and she wakes up. It seems many players interpreted this moment as a dream that Ico is having, and that Yorda truly did die in the castle collapse. Others say that it’s not Yorda, but actually the Queen. But I don’t agree. The queen, Yorda’s mother, claims to Ico near the end that even after Yorda wakes up, she will cease to be Yorda, and will instead be the reincarnation of the queen. But after the queen’s defeat and when the castle starts collapsing, she states how Yorda will still be unable to escape the castle. In my opinion, the Queen wouldn’t have mentioned the statement in this way if Yorda wasn’t really Yorda. But that’s just my interpretation. It’s what I believe, and nothing will take away from the moment where I discovered Yorda on the beach and yelled, “hell yeah!” Because that’s what ICO did to me. It made me care about Yorda. I didn’t view my experience with the game as an escort mission where I had to drag around a useless NPC, I felt like I was saving a real person born into terrible circumstances, and that’s the magic of ICO’s storytelling.

Would I Recommend?

Determining whether or not I would recommend ICO is a difficult choice. I didn’t think the combat or puzzles were fun, and I didn’t find the gameplay as whole to be very enjoyable. But I liked how the game made me feel, and what the game made me feel. Some people only play games to have a fun time, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I myself usually pick games to play based on how fun I think they would be. So if you are a “gameplay is what’s most important” person, then I wouldn’t recommend ICO. On the other hand, some people are more open to games regardless of how good the gameplay can be. If you are one of these people, then I would recommend giving ICO a try.

I never finished Ico back on my old PS2, and the alphabet challenge had me thinking about games that start with "I", so I took a few hours to revisit it last week. Still love the stark, sun-blasted art direction and sound design, but more than anything I was struck by how directly it was inspired by Another World, and how directly it went on to inspire Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. From the central conceit of spending a whole game with a single NPC, all the way down to nitty gritty details of level design and cutscene direction, these are three games in clear conversation with each other, which is really neat to see.

Unfortunately though, I found Ico to be outclassed by both its forebear and its successor. Even disregarding its mediocre combat and puzzles, which arguably aren't the main draw, the core experience of forming a relationship with a partner character just didn't work as well for me here as it does in Another World and Sands of Time. Yorda's interactions in the game world are so limited, and so passive, that she ended up feeling less like a teammate and more like a puzzle piece that I was shifting around the board. I wish she was allowed to be a more active participant in the adventure.

In a time when there are many and many things that we give for granted, Ico is a reminder of a simpler time and how much you could do with less. An empty world but empty, again, in the good sense. Less to explore and discover than its successor but the atmosphere of being almost meaningless in an enormous world is still there. A huge world made of very little, almost no combat and simple puzzles that, in the end, are just a story of going forward no matter what. What I think is an incredible touch to give the sense of urgency in a ruined castle is spawning enemies when you're far away from Yorda for too long, so even if you want to explore, you sometimes just can't and you have to go forward.

Not a you forward, though, an us forward. I think It was a really bold decision to make a game that is basically an escort quest but the interaction between the two characters makes it for it. You're not always adrift but are sometimes powerless as well and you should be because you're just a kid.

This game is also a technical testament of a time that was gone. The technical limitations and particularly the camera are there and are way too obvious. Being hard against the game because of that, however, would be unfair in my eyes as that was how the things were back then. Like playing the first Tomb Raider and dying several times to a misjump because there is no decent camera in that scene.

It is odd. Before writing this review, I was going to rate it 4 stars but after putting some thoughts in words, I think it deserves the 5th. And I'm being subjective, of course. And I wanted to like it, yeah. I don't know how this game was received at this time (this is my first playthrough) but I want to believe that it was well received.

I don't think I'll play this game again, though, unless they decide to remaster it and fix the camera because, yeah, we used to play like this, but it was a long, long time ago.

Yell at someone else and they will struggle to follow your commands. Lead by gently taking their hand and everything will be faster and smoother.

I am only saying this because I noticed after 1 hour that you could actually take their hand and guide them to do what you need. Way less infuriating game after you know that little fact.

Calling Ico a masterpiece is something many have done before and many will continue to do afterwards, so I can't say I'll be very original.

Ico is a masterpiece, and is probably my favorite PS2 game so far. Using very elegant and well-designed puzzles, it tells a story between Ico and Yorda that is forged through both cutscenes and gameplay.

It also looks great with its empty, rundown castle and ruins that was probably occupied by people who are now long gone and is now filled only with the howling of the wind, the chirping of birds, and occasional shadowy spirits.

Ico is one of the best examples of a mechanic being used to reinforce a story as well : while Ico, the protagonist, cares for Yorda in the story, the player will come to care for her through gameplay alone. She's always needed, is always there and will need the player's hand to progress. The game basically creates a symbiotic relationship between the player and Yorda that I can't say I've ever seen in any other title before.

Ico is genuinely amazing, and playing it now makes me want to catch up on the rest of Ueda's work as well. It aged very well, and is absolutely worth playing.

His thoughts regarding plot in video games are that ideas for gameplay mechanics should be made first, then complimented by a game’s story.

ICO is a masterpiece. This doesn't come as a surprise. It's without a doubt, one of the finest achievements in the video game form. It has been a while since a game has glued me so effectively to my controller. A remarkable experience. The key to its success can be traced to the quote from above, taken from Fumito Ueda’s profile at GiantBomb. The game director proves with ICO to be one of the greatest formalists of the medium, with a keen sense to synthesize all the elements that stand as unique of the game form to deliver a pure exercise of expression and affect.

Gameplay is at the forefront in this experience, narrative is secondary. I’d dare to say that much of the game’s cinematics don't account for too much, if the audience hasn't accompanied them with the gameplay. The creation of bonds between the player and the avatars is formulated mainly through game time. As opposed to The Last of Us, game that pops into my mind while thinking over ICO, that is because as a younger player, I was introduced to Ueda via Neil Druckmann’s listing of inspirations on his game, for obvious reasons ICO was instrumental for TLOU (and I’d even throw in the Uncharted series too). The most interesting and striking difference (of many), is how the delivery of affect is processed in both games. Naughty Dog’s game follows (like the majority of their recent output) the trend of the ‘cinematic’ game; the story it's compelling in itself, but most character development and player’s empathetic relationship towards its main characters is done via cinematics, gameplay it’s seen as an interlude, a method to push further the story from point A to point B. Take the gameplay out of the equation and the story, for the most part, will remain equally affective: game time isn't essential. And as I have stated in the first lines of this paragraph, the case couldn't be more contradictory in regards to ICO.

Whilst the player’s attachment to Ellie and Joel (main characters of TLOU) is crafted via narrative and the cinematic/cutscene. In ICO it's created mainly via game mechanics. It’s funny to think back to Hideo Kojima's announcement of Death Stranding, where he made use of Kōbō Abe’s analogy of ‘the stick and the rope’, and realize that a very similar one can be made with ICO: the Stick and the Hand.

In ‘The Stick’, I'll categorize all elements of the game that could be traced to the adventure game. Obviously the player will use a wooden-stick (later a sword) to fend off and fight back the shadow enemies. They will also use it to light fires and bombs. Furthermore, the game has other elements that align with those expected for the adventure game: platforming and puzzle solving. All this could make for a very entertaining experience, but it would be far from being this excellent and remarkable. So what gives it that edge? ‘The Hand’ is what makes ICO stand out as a sophisticated and distinctive game. It introduces a remarkable mechanic, which I like to call it imaginatively: ‘the Yorda mechanic’. In the game the player takes control of a horned-boy (Ico) as they set out to escape from a castle where they have been sent as a sacrifice, they will cross paths with Yorda, a mysterious girl. The boy will need to guide and protect her as they make their escape; this is where the mechanic takes full effect. A single button/command is assigned for the player’s interaction with Yorda (NPC/AI), this command does several things: it makes Ico call their friend, pull her from heights or save her from being consumed by shadow vortexes, and most essentially hold her hand to guide her. Yorda can't fight back enemies, so the player has to balance solving the many environmental puzzles while always defending her, failure to do so ends up in GAME OVER. Unlike many AI companions who need an escort, Yorda never feels like a burden; for a game released in 2001, it's impressive how responsive she is to her environments and the player’s commands. For instance, I noticed how she will directly hide behind Ico’s back when accosted by ‘the shadow monsters’, she will sometimes (there are some occasionally small issues with path-mapping) seek to move out of the action to protect herself. When left on her own for a while, she will began to wander around the map (the player will learn not to leave her alone for a long period of time lest she is captured, and the moments they have to because the level demands it, will be filled with a sense of tension and even fear), this small details, give the impression that Yorda is far more than a McGuffin to the gameplay/story, but a sentient being as lost as the player, in this mysterious and sometimes dangerous environment.

It’s with that simple and highly intuitive mechanic, that ultimately causes all of the emotional impact to be deftly delivered by the game. It is the tool that creates such an essential and affective attachment to Yorda, and therefore the experience. At first, the player feels the need to protect Yorda not only to avoid a GAME OVER scenario, but because she is also essential to open the games to the next levels, thus to progress, the relationship is entirely practical. But with time, it will become a more poignant relationship, the player will no longer protect Yorda for the fear of defeat, but because they will care about her. The story in itself doesn't create that connection, moreover, Ueda adds a striking detail worth mentioning: Yorda doesn't speak the same language as Ico, for the entirety of the experience the player doesn't understand her (unless they can decipher the strange hieroglyphs that are used as subtitles), they can only sense the meaning. Thus, the deeper connections, all emotional attachment is constructed via the game time, the narrative emotional beats only heighten those feelings. Another small detail, when holding hands with Yorda, I noticed a pulsating vibration from the controller, beating at a straight tempo.Initially, I thought it was used to symbolize our footsteps, striding at the same pace, we both are on the same journey; by the middle of the game, I came to the conclusion, that it symbolized our heartbeats, beating at the same rhythm, this story was for both of us, and there couldn't be Ico without Yorda, and the other way around, we were tied by the story and by our clutching hands.

The aesthetics of the game are equally important. It's no surprise to learn that Fumito Ueda had a past in fine art. From conceptual art, to character design to the animations (which in my first impressions, I regarded highly), Ueda has his hand in all these branches as: artist, designer and lead animator. The work is precisely crafted to look and feel as it is. The use of soft lighting and colors is remarkable, creating a very specific effect in the environment (the contrast between the characters and the environment). A strange case when a game feels that unique, by looking as by playing it. Even the small details as having the save points be modeled after benches to rest (always with Yorda) to then further continue the journey, all feels incredibly well placed and deliberate, crafted with fine care. The castle, the environment and the character design exudes an aura of mysticism and mystery. Equally minimalistic as the gameplay design, yet equally engrossive and affective. Some of the most beautiful landscapes rendered in video games, sometimes it felt like an alive and breathing impressionist painting, that I was allowed to traverse through. One that spoke of times past, and secrets buried, secrets that might never be revealed.

ICO has rekindled a passion for games in me, after going through some high and lows with the medium, this masterpiece has reminded me how emotionally stimulating and unique games can be. How if they use the tools that neither cinema nor other medium possesses, and doesn't rely on what is achievable in those other mediums, a game can deliver an experience like nothing else. It was also an incredibly entertaining time, these 7 hours I’ve spent with ICO had absolutely flown by fast. What a game, what a journey. Score: 98/100

It only took me twenty years, buying two different versions of this game and a damn quarantine to play this game, but I have finally played ICO!

I'm especially surprised how long it took me to play ICO, considering Shadow of the Colossus is one of my favorite PlayStation 2 games. What I adore about the games of Fumito Ueda is that he focuses on a very specific aspect of gameplay, then crafts a beautiful world around it, and improves that aspect. For example, with Shadow of the Colossus, he took the boss fight and made the entire game nothing but boss fights. Yet the way he evolved the boss fight, into massive colossi that have to first be climbed, then taken down, is something that countless games ripped off immediately after and still to this day.

Ueda does a similar trick with ICO, in that he is essentially making a puzzle game out of the world he has created. The trick is, however, that every puzzle must be solved twice. Not only does the lead character Ico have to get through a certain area, he has to lead his partner, Yorda, to safety as well. In doing this, Ueda is also engaging in the classic trope of man saving woman from castle, yet in the end, both need to exist, each with their own strengths, in order to make it through the challenges.

The way the puzzle and boy-meets-girl aspects interact is beautifully done. Future games would of course rip off the escort mission, but here, it's done elegantly, and it's never cumbersome to lead Yorda to where she needs to go. At some points, I didn't like the way Ico yanked Yorda's arm as they ran, so I would slow down so as to not pull her. There's no reason to do this, but the simple story is handled so perfectly, it inherently makes the player want to take care of this partner.

Whenever I start a Ueda game, I tend to get overwhelmed, since his games are completely unlike all other games. The world feels different and the game controls are odd compared to other games. But within minutes, I'm right in line, and ICO is no different. I worried as a puzzle game, it might be difficult to get through, but the puzzles offer challenge without suffocating the player. I was never frustrated by what I was supposed to do, and the simple controls made it relatively easy to do what I needed to do in all situations with ease.

Like Shadow of the Colossus, ICO is a masterpiece and one of the best games to come out of the PlayStation 2. It's brilliant in its simplicity and still gorgeous to look at, despite being almost two decades old. This is a masterpiece that I can't wait to play again.

I'm going to make this a bit quick, because I don't think I'm a good audience to measure whether or not ICO will be a good time for you.

ICO is unarguably a great work of art both at what it inspired afterward and what it genuinely meant for the people at the time and even years after. It is certainly from a complete vision that deals with themes of strict emotional attachment in a world that holds our freedom hostage and pushes obstacles onto us mostly just from the circumstances of our birth. It does this in a minimalist but very effective show don't tell narrative.

However, ICO is awful to play. And I don't mean that from the escort situation, that's probably the least offensive part of it (and in fact, I honestly never had Yorda completely taken even once in all of my playtime). I mean that the puzzles are ridiculously simple, the combat is an absolute chore to do, and that is 80% of the runtime. A lot of it is wandering, wandering, wandering in the most boring style possible that acts more as too much filler just to attach you to Yorda. It's not fun to play, and while something like this doesn't necessarily NEED to be fun, it is hard for me to deny that I spent a solid 5 hours bored out of my fucking mind.

It could've used like, 25% of the runtime cut, at least. That could probably be said for any game, but it's crucial to me here. I could not enjoy ICO, despite its artistic qualities there is honestly so much that it limits itself to that it is incredibly hard for me to recommend this game. It's certainly worth looking at, because maybe this kind of minimalist artistic experience will be more of a hit with you than it was for me. But I think the odds of that as years go on begin to be more stacked against it. (4/10)

Ico is a beautiful game, even 19 years and nearly 3 console generations later. It is a clear case of art style trumping polygon count. The environments evoke beauty and despair in their own right and create a captivating story with minimal dialogue and (mostly) engaging gameplay.

Ico shares many artistic themes with its spiritual successor and prequel Shadow of the Colossus, such as the feeling of isolation in a strange alien land. The environment of the castle should be immediately familiar and yet dissimilar to players of SotC, and vice versa.

The player plays as Ico, a young boy cast from his village to the abandoned castle for being born with horns, which is viewed as a sign of bad luck. He find in the castle a mysterious girl, known as Yorda, and they help each other make their way through the castle.

The gameplay is actually quite similar to Shadow of the Colossus. Despite how Colossus has you climbing gargantuan titans to kill them and Ico has you holding hands with some girl you just met and trying to escape a castle, they are both, at their core, puzzlers. The puzzle is combative in Shadow of the Colossus, while it is environmental in Ico.

Even though Ico is 19 years old at this point, the gameplay mostly holds up, despite many outdated obstacles the player must hurdle. For one, the camera is a fixed camera. This may sound like an immediate turn off for an action adventure puzzler like Ico, but the camera is almost like it is on a drone. With the right stick, players can turn it from it's fixed position and there are several points in the game that the fixed camera makes just regular gameplay look incredibly cinematic. To be totally fair, I've played a lot of Metal Gear Solid and God of War, so fixed perspective is usually not an issue for me. The fixed camera is actually very good however and there are barely any situations when it is a liability. The wide view helps to make the game feel bigger and allows the player to view more of the beautiful landscape that they may not have been able to see with a standard 3rd person camera. Not only that, but in almost any 2001 game I've played, 3rd person cameras were usually pretty funky to control.

The next thing players may have to overcome is that the entire game is an escort mission. Before that makes you preemptively throw your controller in rage, understand that it's an exceptionally well done escort mission. Yorda does not move on her own, the player must move her (or player 2 on a second playthrough), meaning that she won't throw herself into danger. Even when she is attacked, the game gives ample time to allow the player to get to her and rescue her. I think I maybe had her die once or twice but that was only because I had wandered off without her which is big dumb.

Overall the gameplay holds up rather nicely for a game that is just about two decades old. The puzzles aren't mind numbingly hard and the platforming doesn't require particularly precise inputs. The only thing that doesn't hold up at all is combat. It's not good, it's just kind of tedious. You just mash square around Yorda and eventually the shadows die. There's no combos, blocking, strategy, or styles. The only thing resembling an interesting combat is the final boss, which is a puzzle.

TL;DR game is purdy even though it's lower poly and no particle effects compared to modern games, gameplay is fine, combat sucks, artsy game me likey.

With his penchant for dark fantasy, it should perhaps not come as a big surprise that director Guillermo del Toro has described Shadow of the Colossus and Ico as 'the only two games I consider masterpieces'. And, like its spiritual successor, Shadow of the Colossus, Ico presents itself as sparsely as possible – but it’s this decisive minimalism that makes it so intriguing.

Team Ico employs a 'subtracting design' approach, which draws attention to the haunting, atmospheric setting and music and the tender 'boy meets girl' dynamic that lies at the heart of the narrative. The game art, set off by bloom lighting and keyframe animation, is enchantingly beautiful and belies its age.

By stripping the game back to its raw essentials, Ico succeeds in being in turns sweet and moving – even in its smallest moments, such as when Ico patiently helps Yorda over an obstacle – and gut-wrenchingly terrifying.

The result is a deeply immersive and poignant work of art that is as much an experience as it is a game. After its six or so hours of gameplay, which many will feel compelled to complete in a single sitting, Ico is sure to impress gamers with a quiet sense of awe.

I've chosen this as an example of a game I feel has elevated the medium to an art form. Please check out my blog, Inky Squiggles, to see the others!

I wanted to play this game for so many years and finally had the time to sit and play. But of course, when you play a 17 old game, reality may differ from expectations. The game looks beautiful, has a good atmosphere, makes you curious about the story, but... The gameplay was too challenging for me and I just didn't have the patience. Wish they changed the check point system in a more casual way when they remastered it. And also they could have tweaked the fight mechanics to make the game easier.

Anyway, decided to watch it on Youtube after playing for 1 hour or so. Certainly not a flawless masterpiece, but a solid and challenging game.

I stole this observation but the way light looks and works in this game is simply wonderful. And the architecture is so big and so real and the character feels perfect running and climbing and jumping on and over and in it.

The amount of connection I felt with Yorda despite very obviously scripted and limited interaction was impressive and led to some interesting thoughts about connection.

The combat kinda sucks and there's a bit too much of it...but at the same time it's not especially challenging so it was OK.

Just a wonderful experience.