A Tribute to "Shadow of the Colossus"

It wasn't Mario or Sonic or any of the classics that got me serious about gaming.

No, it was particularly two titles in the past decade for PlayStation 2 that made me realize that video games are as legit and weighty as any other medium of expression.

Sure, the percentage of games that hold up as "art" or have the ability to change someone, their outlook on things or how they question or view the world are few and far between, given that the market is flooded with FPS after FPS in the vein of Call of Duty and its legion of ripoffs.

But in particular, Ico and Shadow of the Colossus, to this day, stand up to the test of time.

They are two examples that make me proud to be a gamer.

They are two of the many games that confirm my views on why the PS2 is my all-time favorite system. I mean hell, the console holds 5 of the 7 favorite games I can think of:

-Persona 4
-Resident Evil 4 (originally released on GameCube)
-Final Fantasy X
-Shadow of the Colossus
-Ico

As you can tell, I'm huge on Japanese games, and with good reason. With the exception of a few games and companies like BioWare and Valve, Western game companies often follow the mantra, "Shoot first, ask questions later."

In regards to the games listed above, all of which have come within only the last generation of consoles, I will of course, always hold SNES games like Tetris Attack and Super Mario World dear to my heart, or Sonic the Hedgehog 2 or Mortal Kombat II for the Genesis. But there's a difference between fun factor and nostalgia to the likes of games that impacted me long after I set down my controller.

In honor of the recent release of the Ico/Shadow of the Colossus HD re-release on PlayStation 3, I've decided to reexplore my love for Shadow of the Colossus in particular.

When I played SotC for the first time, I was immediately struck by its beauty. The far reaching landscapes, the desolate ruins, the sparse scenery. The light rays that shined through the temple.

It all built up to an otherworldly atmosphere that left me in awe and wonder.

It's funny because Fumito Ueda, creator of both Ico and Shadow of the Colossus, really knew how to work the system's limitations into his favor.

Coming out of the gate the earliest, the PS2 was by far the weakest in terms of power of the three consoles (fellow rivals, Xbox and GameCube) of last generation.

So Ueda couldn't afford to build a world dense in details that he probably wanted to employ to immerse the player in terms of realism.

Thus, he went the opposite route.

Let's make a sparse and desolate world. Not sparse in terms of laziness and inattention to detail.

No, it was quite the opposite.

Ueda and his team took to apply the use of space in their games, to strategically place vegetation, building structures, ruins, and a camera perspective that would not only keep the player immersed in the world, but to engender feelings of loneliness, even a sense of helplessness, to a protagonist that is no super hero by any means - but is nevertheless on a journey to save the woman he loves.

But the enemy and the tasks necessary for him to accomplish this aren't so clear cut - he is to slay giant, mythical beasts known as Colossi in order to fulfill the temple spirits' wishes, but at the same time, he doesn't know the purpose or reasons as to why these Colossi are to be killed. What is the end goal of all of this?

The protagonist is so desperate to find a way to save the woman that he has no other choice.

The game opens up with shots of him riding his horse through far off regions. The intro then ends with him traversing a bridge that stretches far into the distance, as if never-ending, but ultimately leading to the temple.

I've actually traversed this entire bridge in the game and you can bet, it's long as fuck. I can't remember exactly but it literally took me 10 or more minutes to ride across the damn thing on my horse.

But these design choices were made on purpose.

The entire game's design was made for certain purposes.

When I traversed these long stretches of scenery and the world, uninterrupted, I felt a greater sense of wonder and amazement; at the same time, I started questioning myself and the protagonist's journey. I was in doubt of myself. Would I be able to conquer the next Colossus? Would killing another one bring me that much closer to saving the woman? Where would the next task take me?

The fact that there are absolutely no lesser enemies or minions to deal with in between each Colossus battle only elevates the gravitas of each struggle's outcome.