The Great Debate: Shadow of the Colossus

Alex R. Cronk-Young and Jon Shults have had very different experiences with the Team ICO games. The following is an attempt for them to come to terms with their very opposing views.

The following includes SPOILERS for Ico. Read at your own risk.

Sure, I grew up playing video games, but by the time I got to high school I had grown out of them a bit. Nostalgia for the few NES games that we owned when I was a kid, and the 16-bit RPGs that my friend and I played together was one thing, but I didn't really obsess over what was coming out then. Still, video games interested me, and I would pick up a magazine every once in awhile to read about them.

It was in one of those magazines that I first heard about Ico. It sounded completely different from the games I had been playing, which were mostly holdovers from my past gaming days, like Final Fantasy. But like I said, I didn't really obsess over games then, so I didn't rush out to the store to buy it anytime soon.

Several months later I found myself in a GameStop digging through the bargain bin. There was Ico for ridiculously cheap, like $6 or something. Getting it home and playing it completely changed the way I thought about games. RPGs were always my favorite genre because I cared about the story. Ico told the story in a way I hadn't ever experience with RPGs. I'll get into a specific example of how a little later.

Jon Shults, didn't really fall in love with the Team ICO games like I did. In the interest of a fair debate, I'll let him touch on his first experience with these games. More specifically we'll be talking about Shadow of the Colossus, but I had to start with Ico to relate my first encounter, and why I fell in love with it. Now I'll let Jon talk about his experiences.

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Jon: I honestly can't remember the first time I heard about ICO. If I had to guess, I would say it's probably back when I was in college and my roommate was one of my closest friends. We were both avid gamers, I mean we were in a dorm room with two bunk beds, a microwave, 2 TV's, 2 computers, 2 receivers, an Xbox, a PS2, a Gamecube, and a Dreamcast. When we weren't in class, we were gaming.

This was also a particularly shameful period in my life where I pirated games without hesitation. It didn't help at all that the Dreamcast made games so easy to pirate. Why all this talk about Dreamcast in a PS2 game debate? Well, because a game called Rez socked me in the stomach and made me realize there was cooler stuff out there beyond Gran Turismo and RalliSport Challenge.

Sure I played the hardcore Gamecube games, but that statement is a little oxymoronic. Playing Rez made me interested in finding other games out there that weren't on the beaten path, and that's why I'm pretty sure that my roommate Andy is the one that introduced me to Ico -- he was a little further down the experimentation path that I was. From that point on, it didn't really matter what it was, we played it.

Alex: That's exactly how I saw Ico when I started playing it, off the beaten path. Like I said, I was used to the story telling in RPGs. Reading a bunch of text, or at that point, watching a long cutscene, to get my story was starting to get old. When I started Ico, I instantly knew it was different. The opening scene showed my character being lead off of a boat, through a temple. I was never told who I was, where I had come from, or why I was being taken to this temple.

Put in a tank and left for dead, my adventure began when the tank broke free and I could get out. That was all that was ever explained about why I was abandoned. I could easily infer that the fact that my character had horns while the men that lead me to my cell did not, meant that I was probably shunned in my village until a certain age, where I would be cast out. This subtle way of starting off the entire game, instantly got me interested as I had never played a game like it before.

Here's where everything clicks for me though. The mystery had dragged me along a fairly short 6 or 7 hour game, not knowing why I'm leading a girl around a castle in an attempt to escape. The entire time, my only adversaries where some unknown shadow people that would occasionally appear and try to drag my companion into their world. I had slayed these enemies without remorse, relishing when I finally obtained a sword with which to more easily vanquish them.

Then I reached the room where my journey had originally began. I didn't even realize it at first, since I had entered from a new direction. Up ahead was the girl I had been protecting throughout the game, but when I went to save her, I began to be swarmed by the shadow people. Like annoying flies I stabbed and swung away. Epic battle music did not play, only a somber, sad melody. And that's when I noticed where the ridiculous amount of shadow people were coming from -- the very tanks that I was once banished to. Like a punch in the gut, I realized what I had been fighting the entire time. In that moment, what would have been an epic battle in any other game, became something I had to wince and force my way through.

I stopped swinging my sword, and just watched. The shadow people danced and flew around me, but never attacked. I grimaced and did what I knew I had to do. As I began chopping through them once again, they never stopped coming. It seemed like there were a hundred or more tanks in that room, and with every shadow person I killed, their respective prison glowed, as if to show what I had just done to the little horned boy that was inside.

That scene set the stage for the end of the game, and for Shadow of the Colossus to come. It is the best example I have of exactly why both of these games made me fall in love with gaming even more then I ever had. When Shadow of the Colossus came out, I rushed to the store to buy it immediately, and it did not disappoint.

Jon: Alright, let's just take a moment here, and let any readers that made it through that last bit take a bathroom break, maybe grab a soda.

Everyone back? Sweet. I suppose you could compare Alex's experience with the game to my attitude here. He liked to take his time, learn what the world had to offer, and take it all in. I on the other hand, despite having purchased the game, found myself a little bored at about the hour and a half mark.

Yes, I'd heard the game was great, and I could appreciate what it was trying to do, but it just wasn't striking a chord with me. It was a little too slow to make me care about what was going on. I understood that my character was an exile from his village, and that I was supposed to be saving this girl, but I wasn't entirely sure at this point if the girl was even real. I mean, my character LOOKED like a boy, just with a set of horns coming out of his head. He was flesh, wore clothes, swung a stick. Everything I would do if I found myself donning a pair of horns one morning. She on the other hand, was a translucent white, similar to those photos of ghosts people say are real.

Then there were the shadows, that quite clearly wanted her back, and who am I to say she needs to be taken? I mean, no one should be in a cage, but maybe she's there for a reason.

On top of it all, we're running through a castle. One completely barren of people and furniture, save of the occasional couch, and some barrels.

Just what the hell? I mean seriously.

Once Shadow of the Colossus was announced, I wasn't really sure how I felt about it. I mean my (now past-tense) roommate Andy was very excited about it, and so was the gaming industry that I was just beginning to follow. I wasn't sure how I felt, except that I knew Ico tried to do something in a new way, and I was ready for something new again. I didn't pick the game up until well after it was released, however.

Alex: Alright, before we jump into Shadow of the Colossus, I've got to force you to clarify something here. First, no barrels, but that's besides the point -- you say that you got bored, but you don't mention why at all. If you're going to cite examples of why the game didn't pull you in, then by all means. But you just simply say it bored you. Please, elaborate.

Jon: It's difficult to list why something bores you. I mean the game didn't have much story going for it. A lot of, "Huh this is weird, I wonder what's going on", but not enough to drive me to figure out what exactly was happening.

I mean, there's no background story besides the opening cinematic, there's no explanation as to why you're in the castle, or where you even think you're going. You're only left to assume that you're going "out" and that at some point this girl is going achieve "rescued" status. I just felt that they left too much of that part of the game up to my own imagination, and whether it was the classes, the girls, or whatever else, I just wasn't up to it at the time. I needed more direction than the game was offering. Finally, just in case it isn't clear at this point, no I never completed ICO, and I don't think I ever got much further than that hour and a half mark.

Alex: I guess my favorite part of both games is the fact that they toy with your emotions. They leave everything completely open-ended so that you don't know what's right or wrong. I enjoyed struggling with whether or not I should even be bothering with Yorda, and they clearly wanted you to do just that. If you had played longer then that hour and a half, there is a scene when you get to the front gate. You run to get out as it begins to shut, and Yorda trips and falls. The boy hesitates, and ultimately stops to help her. So obviously they wanted to better establish that inner struggle for the player.

By doing that, it ultimately pays off towards the end of the game when you do get out that front gate. The bridge begins seperating, leaving you apart from Yorda, when all of a sudden you have control of the character again. It's entirely up to you to jump for her or not. Actually, I've played out that scene multiple ways and you have to jump. It's probably more of a PS2 limitation, but I appreciate that they at least tried to push the boundaries of games back then.

It was an idea that they continued in Shadow of the Colossus. It was left completely open as to what the Colossi were, and whether or not you should really be slaying them for some girl. By leaving things like that open, it makes it easier for the player to have their own internal struggles. I'm sure you've heard countless stories about people feeling really terrible after taking down a colossus, that's something that few other games even make an attempt at. And before I pass this back to you, I'm going to completely ban the word "pretentious" from this conversation.

Jon: My primary objection to that point is that the game DOESN'T really leave the choice in your hands. I can understand the hollowness of this point, because it is a game set on a particular narrative, however your choice is to literally do nothing, or kill the colossi. Many games force you down that path of "open the chest and get the sword or else you just fail the whole game", but they don't get lauded for telling story through game play.

I do recall feeling a sense of attachment to the ghost girl in Ico, but I really don't recall ever feeling that connection in Shadow of the Colossus. They make it clear that your character desires her to be alive/concious (whichever she's not), but I as the gamer never felt like I had to do it other than it was clearly the goal of the game.

As far as the 'feeling bad after killing a colossus' goes, I'll admit that they do feel quite majestic, but I never second guessed the motives or consequences of my actions.

Alex: Now we're getting somewhere, because I can understand that, but it still feels like your misplacing blame on the game when it should be on the critics who raved about it. The point I'm making is that both games make an attempt at new ways of storytelling, and that is something I appreciate beyond measure. While it is very true that you have no real choice in the matter of killing the colossi or not, I don't know what else you would want them to do.

Many movies have toyed with your emotions, making you question whether or not you really want to be watching them. When you are witnessing something awful, that you disagree with on a fundamental level, you feel that gut-punch that I talked about with Ico. But what are your choices there? Keep watching, or turn it off. It's the exact same with a video game, except you are actually forced to take part in these actions if you want to continue the story. Would you have them allow you to just not kill the colossi and go about your daily life in the village?

I appreciate that they are attempting to make you really think about what you are doing in the game, rather then just doing it so that you can see the story. Every other game out there at the time of SotC, would have treated each colossi as a mere means to an end. To me, they are taking game mechanics that we are all used to, and twisting them. SotC is their attempt to change how we think of boss battles. Granted, they took that goal and focused their laser sights onto it, letting the rest of the game remain fairly barren, but I didn't really have a problem with that.

Maybe if they were a huge studio, then they could have had the resources to blow out the rest of the world, but I think it would have detracted from the idea that they were trying to get across. Can we at least both appreciate the fact that Team ICO is clearly trying to take normal gameplay conventions and put a unique spin on them, whether we can agree on how engrossing the surrounding game is or not?

Jon: I agree completely; Team ICO is laying new ground in that area. I mean that's the reason I actually bought Shadow of the Colossus after having quit Ico so early on. They deserve a pat on the back for their efforts, but there's a reason Orville and Wilbur Wright are the guys with all the flight glory, while the guy who strapped wings on his bicycle goes nameless. Team ICO is the guy with wings on his bike. Valiant effort, thinking outside the box, but I have a feeling that if they don't take flight soon, a competitor is about to soar over their heads.

As far as comparing to a movie goes, if I was to watch a movie that still had me scratching my head towards the end, I would turn that movie off, and I would cast aside any comments claiming the movie is anything but an insomnia cure. Isn't the average movie about 90 minutes long? How far was I into ICO when I turned it off? Oh yeah...

Alex: What standard are you saying they failed at? I am talking about one specific innovation that I think they were trying to achieve, and you say you agree that they were going for that. If you want to criticize the stark and barren-ness of the rest of the game, then fine, but I'm trying to boil it down to one thing that we can agree on. If the rest of the game bored you, then that is your opinion, but I don't think you can say the game failed if it kept me engaged. Still, I think we can at least agree that they took the boss battle concept and put a unique spin on it. Maybe that didn't completely reinvent the video game, but it's a start, right?

Jon: I'm saying I can respect that they are trying, but the game failed to work its magic on me. They quite clearly prided themselves in NOT giving you direction. Sure, hold your sword up and it points the way to the next colossus, but find me one indicator that the lizards exist, let alone are of benefit to kill. It's one thing to put eight hidden stars in Braid, but it's something else entirely for Zelda to completely hide its heart containers--actually Shadow of the Colossus hid pretty much everything that wasn't attached to a giant beast.

Alex: The lizards don't matter at ALL though. There is no reason that you need them to succeed at the game. You're killing me here, Jon. I'm trying to end this with at least a small agreement. Fine, the game failed for you, but not for me. Now take how they handled the colossi themselves, and insert that as a boss battle in another game.

If you played a Zelda game, and somebody told you to go kill some monster, and when you arrived it was one of the SotC colossi, would you herald that as a innovation for gaming? If the rest of the game was already something you can get behind, would you say that the fact that you actually cared about that boss, and felt bad for slaying it, that it was a huge step for gaming?

Jon: Defending yourself after stumbling into a giant creature that tries to kill you before you do anything besides ride by doesn't make me second guess that battle. Having no prior knowledge of the creature itself doesn't make me reflect on it's existance or the impact its death will have on the world.

Alex: But you aren't "stumbling" into it. You are told, kill all 13 colossi. If you stumbled into a bear, and proceed to stab it to death, wouldn't you feel a little bad when he slowly dies in front of you? You walked into his land, he is a dumb animal that is either hungry or scared, and has nothing but instincts to act upon. So he attacks, you kill, but when he is on his last legs, and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, you'd have to feel a little bad about it. That is what Team ICO did with boss battles. If we can't agree upon JUST THAT, then I guess we can't agree on any of it.

You felt that the game was too open and subtle, I loved that fact, hell, I even wrote a whole article on that. You didn't struggle with the ethics of slaying these giant beasts, I did. Basically, our points have been boiled down to their absolute limits. You feel like the game failed to achieve the moods and atmosphere they were trying for, I don't. I would love to convince you that you were wrong for having the experience that you had with the game, and I'm sure you would for me as well, but we can't.