Ico

Fumito Ueda's acclaimed game Ico came out at a very unfortunate time; the fate of many great games of that year. It just so happens that the gargantuan Grand Theft Auto III came thundering in the same year in 2001. The hard-edged, fast paced, ultraviolent epic intensely overshadowed the simplicity and emotionally tender game that features the greatest use of the 'escort mission' ever concocted in the gaming medium. Here is a game that does not say much, the origin of the protagonist, the reasons in which this castle is maintained and the lust for the queens power. Yet, the game does a beautiful job at illuminating the characters through the simplicity of the gameplay, where the focus is on trying to escape, you and Yorda. Ico, the protagonist of the game, has been locked up in the desolate castle because he is an outcast to his tribe because of his horns. After his cell breaks he stumbles upon the dark cage hanging high from the ceiling, discovering a vibrant girl layered in shining white yet frail and soft. There, he breaks the cage and meets up with Yorda. They do not speak the same language, you never find out what Yorda says the whole time, but the magnitude of her character in relation to Ico, who is so intimately the player, creates this sort of dialogue all the more special. You realize they understand each other not through the words they speak but through their emotional meaning. 

The game's controls has one of the most ingenious schematics I have ever seen. Yes, they can get clunky and inaccurate, but they are simple and very easy to be accommodating. the most important aspect is the R1 button, which calls out for Yorda as well as has Ico take her hand and lead wherever the player goes. I found this subtle touch amazing; you must hold R1 to remain holding on to Yorda. The importance of her survival is emphasized through this technical choice. Commanding Yorda to jump across dangerous gaps and such feed of the importance. In time, we grow in understanding  of her position and mentality.

The visuals combine simplicity and beauty, the interplay between the light and the architecture of the castle is wonderful. Yes, much of the geometry of the architecture is squarish, but the detail of the stone and brick seem potently real; the howling wind feels like it is scraping the old building blocks. Other sounds of birds singing and the waves of the sea crashing out to the naturalness of the environment, juxtaposed with the imprisoning feeling of the player and certainly of Yorda.The shadow characters are apt in their complexion, faceless and soulless, offering no room for sympathy whatsoever, which gives you more of an incentive to protect Yorda. Fights are never flashy, but their intensity depends on how much you feel for Yorda. I knew multiple times my anxiety spiked during moments where I lost track of Yorda and she was taken away. These fights only enhance the player's relationship with Yorda; the need to escape and seek out this nigh impossible freedom.

One of the brilliant mechanics of the game is its sense of space and the puzzling. The whole game can be considered one big puzzle, the castle you move in feels labyrinthine. The puzzles seamlessly intertwine, and you find all the rooms and 'individual' spaces logically connecting with each other. The puzzles are never demanding but are subtle to their approach, but the way space is laid out is an impeccable testament to superb game design.

Conveyance in this game is clear; through simplicity we get unabridged emotions. The desolation of the castle, the loneliness it inhibits, reacts to the functions of the relationship between the player, as Ico, and Yorda. It feels comforting to know you have someone by your side. The game never strays away from its core thematic functions, never bringing in more elements that may strip the game of its mysterious power. It is a game where not much is said but what truth it has lies in the emotional responses of the player, who cherishes the idea of trust and friendship since it is what is needed to tackle the conflict of the game. There is a moment later in the game where you must fight all the lost souls that have been driven out of their home world. They were force to sever any ties with another being, force to lose trust in faith in someone such that their isolation dominated them. It strengthens the cause you fight for, and the weight it carries transcends the game itself. Not many games hold values as fruitful and sentimental as that. Not many games use these values as the function of their gameplay. The beauty of Ico lies within this intrinsic, human value of companionship.