GAME CLEAR No. 192 -- Ico

Ico (Remastered) (2011, PS3)

Remaster of: Ico (2001, PS2)
Part of Compilation: The Ico & Shadow of the Colossus Collection
Compilation Developer: Bluepoint Games
Compilation Publisher: Sony Computer Entertainment
Original Developer: Japan Studio (Team Ico)
Original Publisher: Sony Computer Entertainment
Clear Version: PS3
Clear Platform: PS3
Clear Date: 9/16/24

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Why should I care?
Vibes are off the charts, man.

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I want to hold your hand

As I mentioned in the previous GAME CLEAR, Astro Bot had the pretty predictable effect of getting me thinking about PlayStation history and the (many) games I’ve missed throughout it. Ico jumped out at me as one of the more egregious ones I’d not yet played and also was conveniently already on my shelf. After finishing Astro Bot, I quickly got to work finally playing it.

Its reputation preceded it, one that suggested I’d be in for a novel-in-2001 experience that was heavy on atmosphere and ambiguity and not so much on exposition and explanation. That reputation held true, and while its influence has worn away some of its novelty for someone playing it in 2024, it’s still easy to see why it was beloved all those years ago.

Ico starts with the titular boy being escorted on horseback to a castle prison. He’s being taken there because he has horns, which his people see as bad, so he is to be sacrificed for the good of everyone, he is assured. Not long after he is imprisoned, though, a tremor dramatically frees him from his captivity, and you assume control of him and set about escaping. Almost immediately, Ico encounters a caged, glowing white girl named Yorda. He frees her, and although a language barrier prevents the two from communicating verbally, he insists on helping her escape too. There are no world-building opening narrations or monologues by Ico or Yorda about the predicament they’re in. We trust them without explanation in the same way they trust each other. We know he and Yorda gotta get the hell outta here, and it’s time to get to work.

Much of the rest of the game involves literally taking her by the hand and dragging her through the massive and labyrinthine castle the two protagonists find themselves in. Yorda is not as spry and athletic as Ico, so while much of the puzzling involves just getting Ico from place to place, you must also find ways to manipulate the environment so that Yorda can also pass through safely. Disrupting your efforts are these black shadow bastards that pop out of black voids in the ground just about every other screen. You literally beat them to death with sticks until they stop coming and then carry on with what you were doing. Much like so many other aspects of the game, you’re never really told exactly what these guys are, but they’re aggressors, so they must be dealt with; your speculation and fan theories can wait. Yorda is completely useless at fleeing from them, and if they grab her and take her to one of the holes they sprang from, it’s game over. Can’t have that! So you must always be vigilant and keep Yorda as close by as possible while you manage the platforming that will necessarily take you away from her.

If you think this sounds like an hours-long escort mission, often one of the most bemoaned tasks in gaming even in short doses, then you’re not wrong. You will constantly be holding R1 to hold Yorda’s hand when you’re not pressing it to call her over from a distance. Somehow, it works. Ico’s altruism is moving, and it’s hard not to want to help poor Yorda. When you learn why she is locked up, you’ll only be more motivated. It helps that unlike some of the AI companions that make escort missions in other games so frustrating, Yorda does very little of her own accord. Charmingly, she can be distracted by the occasional bird, but for the most part she stands still and awaits instruction from Ico. This keeps things tolerable.

Her presence also plays nicely with the sort of desolate loneliness that permeates the setting of Ico. There’s little musical accompaniment throughout the game (usually only in its most dramatic moments), so you’re often alone with your thoughts and the oppressive fear that another group of freaky ghosts is gonna spawn any minute. Pretty unpleasant! But at least Yorda’s there. She’s in this with you. With her odd glow, she’s a literal beacon of light in these trying times. So in that sense, she is carrying her weight.

As you work your way through the castle, you’ll notice that it’s an old, dilapidated place full of weird little platforming contrivances. This should maybe come off as a kind of ludonarrative dissonance. Why is this castle built like that? This isn’t Super Mario, in which we can kind of look past the fact that Bowser’s castle layouts make no sense. This is a game that ostensibly takes itself somewhat seriously, so shouldn’t we expect a bit more? Maybe, but somehow it works. Somehow it makes sense that the same freaks that would build this horrible sacrificial chamber castle would also provide a grueling and bizarre pathway out.

In just a few short hours, you’ll be through the castle. You’ll have beaten the bad guys and you’ll have been treated to a somewhat unexpected and satisfying ending. Pretty good.

By the end of my time with Ico, I felt that I had seldom experienced any moments that really wowed me, but I had constantly been enjoying a setting with brilliantly-crafted vibes and a welcome show-don’t-tell attitude. It’s a tight game with a perfect runtime and a fully-realized vision. I don’t think I loved it necessarily, nor that it’s really in contention to be one of my favorite games, but it’s also the kind of game that I’d like to be playing more of all the time. And it’s one that may well grow in my esteem over time simply by returning to mind more than other games I ostensibly like more.