Shadow of the Colossus – Embracing the Journey

Admittedly, I am a fairly retrogressive dork when it comes to entertainment media. I’ve gone plenty of years without picking up a current home console and I wasn’t particularly arsed to change the situation. But times change, and I found myself really wanting a Playstation 3 for a myriad of reasons. The straw that would have broken the proverbial back if I hadn’t picked one up now would have certainly been The Last Guardian’s eventual (hopeful) release. It’s fitting then that that this would be the disc to first enter my new console…

Sort of appeals to the retrogressive and progressive sides of my entertainment bladder, I suppose. I’ve played both Shadow of the Colossus and ICO in the past, and this one was really an easy choice for me. A greater amount of detail available to the player, among other differences (I believe these are based on the European versions with extra content? This is the more affordable option for me). Shadow of the Colossus is a title I count among my favourite games. ICO is a game that I loved from start to finish, as I detailed almost a year ago on this self same blog. It’s definitely a contender for my favourite games, and absolutely for my favourite gaming experiences. We’ll see how it fares on the replay.

I’ve been thinking recently about how people actually play games. What’s their style? What’s their motivator? This comes partly from seeing people’s reactions to Okami in the most recent Fangamer Game Club, but also from watching a few live streams of Shadow of the Colossus around the release of this Collection. It really wasn’t until this point that I could see the sheer frustration Shadow of the Colossus brings out in some people.

There was both positive and negative reception to first timers playing Shadow of the Colossus, and a lot of the negative connotations had to do with lack of gratification. Some folks want constant intensity, and it’s not going to be found here. To put this to rest now, I want both. I’ve chosen my library to reflect both ends of this spectrum and many more.

But it’s understandable. Shadow of the Colossus is billed as a game about “fighting giants.” But maybe this is a misnomer, or at least an incomplete assessment. Shadow of the Colossus is really a game about a journey, about a struggle – as pretentious as that might sound. Games as ‘art’ is a fairly contested concept, but these games (ICO and SotC) were built to be a moving interactive experience. This is part of the intent. I’ve read Shadow of the Colossus described as a game about ‘sorrow,’ and maybe that’s the most apt. And understandably, ‘sorrow’ is a concept many people use entertainment as an outlet to *escape.*

Think of a piece like The Raft of the Medusa. This painting is large, dominating and oppressing. Classical techniques of composition are used to draw in and capture the onlooker, but the subject matter and palette do not necessarily convey pleasantries. Colossus is similar. The titular Colossi are the hook, the aspect that draws in the potential player. But you might not be getting Jack the Giant Killer.

This brings me back around to my playstyle. For a game like Colossus, I find it best to put aside preconceptions based on similarly themed games. Please note that I am absolutely not saying that you shouldn’t draw comparisons or criticize it or the like. What I am saying is that you should at first approach it as a unique entity. Perhaps my play style has become quite nebulous, I try to play games as naturally as possible. So really, that’s my only caveat. Take Shadow of the Colossus as you will, but take it on its own merits and faults first and foremost.

I won’t dwell too much on Okami in a Shadow of the Colossus blog post, but it bears similarities to how I approach a playthrough of Colossus. Okami is a vast world that you may or may not be drawn in to. I personally got the most enjoyment out of Okami by taking in the world – its people and its places, the nonessential but helpful side ventures. You get as much as you put into it. Colossus is the same, you get as much as you put into it, and I‘m not just referring to lizards and fruit trees. You can fast track Colossus without experiencing the world. Sure, it’s ‘empty.’ But it’s also melancholic, mysterious, captivating.

I guess for me, rewards are not necessarily tangible. To illustrate, this is my third play through of Shadow of the Colossus. Typically, I have hunted lizards (for the glowing tails that increase your grip meter) with the sword or by knocking them down with arrows and firing a volley into them. On this playthrough, for the first time I shot the tail off of a lizard and it continued to walk around. It’s such a small touch, a tiny gesture towards realism but I was so excited (as incredibly dorky as that sounds). I spent more time than I should have trying to get a proper photo of the lizard to preserve this occasion. It’s very much a little thing, but Shadow of the Colossus pulls me in to the extent that this little thing can seem big right then and right there, heh.

Shadow of the Colossus is a game that brings out emotion, and as with any medium you have to be receptive to this. If you don’t want to get drawn into a movie, or a book, or a song, or a work of art, or even the inherent beauty of the planet then you simply… won’t. If you only want the superficial skimmings of whatever entertainment gravy you’re indulging in then that’s all you will get. But if that’s all you want or need, that’s fine. You’ll still get a good meal most of the time.

This is why I think games in general should be taken on in the most open way possible. It doesn’t require any extra effort on your part, doesn’t require any more time than you’re willing to dedicate to gaming in the first place. It just requires an open mind.

Of course, the onus is on Shadow of the Colossus to hook you into its world in the first place. And if it can’t get you in there and keep you there, then it’s probably not for you.

That said, I will reiterate that I am on my third playthrough and it’s like I’m starting afresh. I’m pulled in. And while I’m doing things much more efficiently due to my experience with the game, my excitement still mounts and tension is still present as the giants fling me about. I really appreciate a game that retains it nascent flavour for me so well. You’ll never recapture that first play, but Colossus comes close with me. Perhaps this is why my playthroughs have been years apart, it‘s an experience I yearn to keep fresh…

The moment I set Wander loose in the Forbidden Land I want to soak it in. The blinding light saturates the landscape in complete scorn. All about, the trappings of people long past lie in ruins. Perhaps these parapets once belonged to fortresses, eventually necropoli and now merely bleached skeletal rock choked by vines and moss. You will wander through coliseums, temples, forests and canyons. You will ride through a decaying world and if you let it, the mystery of this world will lead your hand.

The dizzying architecture of ICO quickly became a joy for me to crawl about in. Colossus is no exception, though individual buildings are at the same level of intricacy since it is not focused on one building. I had described ICO’s castle as a living being. Instead of considering one castle or ruin or tower in Colossus, think of the Forbidden Land as the “organism” you are in. You are an invasive species, you are not allowed here. But you entered it regardless.

Of course, I’m the kind of guy who eats this stuff up. I loved every minute of the sailing in The Wind Waker. It felt like a real adventure. The scope of the Forbidden Land is the kind of overworld I wish a modern landlocked Zelda could accommodate. With roving bands of Daira and Goriya. Riding on Dodongos as nomadic bandits… but I digress.

ICO was very much about minimalist storytelling. The narrative was largely in your gameplay. I think this worked out splendidly, and Shadow of the Colossus is similar. This comes back to the question of a motivator. Really, all I have ever required was “these guys want to kill your people, you have to blow up their core.” Colossus presents the following scenario: this is the girl (Mono) that you (Wander) want to save, and this is how you can go about doing it. It’s not quite as simple as that, but it’s a template. And while consequences are made quite apparent as time goes on, there’s still room for interpretation.

Perhaps from the onset and throughout this struggle the single greatest motivator is simply love. Love beyond carnality, of course. A deep connection between two individuals. The title of Mono and Wander’s relationship becomes unimportant, while the connection communicated through the narrative the player cuts soars in importance.

Colossus would suffer from an over encumbered narrative. Its interstitials that begin to shape the story, and the Colossi themselves are more than apt for painting the world. Indeed, it works best when it is Wander against the loneliness of the Forbidden Land. His only ally, his only friend is his loyal horse Agro. As such a connection can be made between the player and the horse.

Horses are not uncommon in video games. They are a familiar and appealing method of transport often associated with the theme and flavour of many of these games. However, I will maintain that Agro is my favourite. For starters, he is an intelligent horse. He will come to you when you call, and in tight corridors he has a degree of autopilot (by the player’s choice, mind you) whose navigation has never caused me any trouble. He’s loyal, he will stay near Wander even though a towering giant is between him and his rider. He makes you feel safer and faster, and when you have to leave him behind you feel naked. Even if he was never going to factor in to the battle. You just want him by your side.

This connection is important, because Shadow of the Colossus would become quite tedious if Wander had to jog to each location. The game is a journey, and Agro ultimately facilitates that journey. He is your only friend in this world. He takes you, without hesitation, headlong into the grim duty you feel you must accomplish. In a roundabout way,  maybe Agro is the human element in Shadow of the Colossus. Or at least, that which keep the human element in light. While we see mono after every Colossus battle, while we play as Wander and share in his struggle, Agro is the constant source of empathy. At least for me, he’s the character that garnered the most emotional response.

Agro sticks with you. And he always finds you after you’ve been separated. He does not want to abandon Wander. Such is their bond.

The other side of the coin, the other constant players are Colossi. I would be remiss to write about Shadow of the Colossus without talking about its namesake. Shadow of the Colossus, Wander and the Colossus. They are the titular ‘creatures,’ the mysterious giants who tread the Forbidden Land.

All of the Colossi are large, some are much more gigantic than others. There is a wild variety of shapes, a great array of locomotion. The smallest may be among the most fierce, the largest may be the among most docile. But you must still grab a hold of them, get into position, and thrust your sword into their vitals. This is still exhilarating for me, climbing a giant and drawing its blackened ‘blood‘ as if I were a tick.

Many games since Colossuus have done the “giant monster that you must climb” shtick. This is often through the use of item or Quick Time Event. But so far nothing has captured me like taking the hair of these creatures in hand and pulling myself to the top. No other quarry has elicited the same conflicting melange of feeling as the Colossi as they writhe in desperation trying to throw the us from their body. Have we become a parasite? Do we feel for these giants?

It’s incredible that the stone masks of the Colossi do not make them any less emotive. It’s all body language. Just like much of the narrative, it is unstated and left to interpretation. The more animalistic Colossi move like their natural basis, despite being covered in stone. The more humanoid Colossi often make familiar gestures. But we can read into these gestures, we know the causality. Without saying too much about the game, some Colossi are much more aggressive than others, some are much more indifferent than others. Each Colossus is an individual, and when you start killing individuals you might start to feel remorse. Or you may feel that it is a means to an end. Perhaps to you, they are just stone dolls in your way. The game encourages you to interpret this in your own way.

Fighting the Colossi deserves mentioning. Each Colossus is, in theory, a “level” or a puzzle. You need to learn how to actually get onto the giant, then how to scale it, and then gauge how many hits you can get on its sigils before you must fall back and rest. You need to learn how the Colossus interacts with its environment and use this to turn the tide in your favour. Getting onto the creature is part of the battle, part of this struggle. And it’s not set in stone, either. People have done some incredible things in Shadow of the Colossus, daring moves and tricks of momentum. While their sigils remain in place, there’s plenty of room for you to try and play the game differently each time.

And when you have won, you have to watch them die. You will see the giant fall, and your response will be your own, depending on how you have interpreted this game.

These battles are a whorl of feeling. The intimidating stature of the Colossi and the pitiable death throes. The mad dash to find a way onto them, then the thrill of climbing them. This is perfectly accompanied by the musical score. Colossus has gorgeous music, but beyond the OST I would say it is one of the bests scored games to date. The music changes to suit the mood. While there are certain leitmotifs, the variant or song used is perfectly suited to the Colossus. When you are on your journey to the giant, you hear the environment. The windswept Forbidden Land. It enhances that strangely alluring lonely world. When you are on the giant, the music is in full force. It may become frantic, and perfectly suits the situation Wander finds himself in.

I’ve really said quite a bit now, and I can say much much more. But the article has gotten quite long now, and I need to cut it off. But it speaks volumes that one day of playing this game again could thrust me back into writing.

I’m going to get a little bit soap boxy here. I honestly feel that Shadow of the Colossus is one of games that people should try at some point in their gaming tenure. It is a unique experience that you should approach with a blank state. I have said to people in the past that “ICO is not Mario.” Well, by the same token I would say Wander is not Link. Of course we draw comparisons, of course we compare games against others. Really, that’s the metric most people know. If Shadow of the Colossus had a little monsters on the over world, many dungeons with puzzles and traps and items (not talking about postgame time attack bonus items here), and a ton of NPCs you would have something familiar. Maybe you would have The Legend of Zelda? But why do you want familiarity in every title? Of course we have our favourite archetypes, but for many years now I have wanted to walk outside of the comfort zone. I’ve craved new and fresh experiences above all.

However, please note that I am absolutely not saying that “everyone should enjoy Shadow of the Colossus.” I just think folks should give it a shot. I will never dismiss someone because they like X game and don’t like Y game. That’s pointless. My ethos is that you should play what you like to play, but don’t be averse to trying something new. Because ultimately, the only review that matters to you is your own review.

I have realized that I like Shadow of the Colossus and Contra and Super Mario Brothers and whatever else I like for the same reason. It’s the journey. And every journey is different. If every adventure was the same, perhaps they would cease being adventures. The end of the journey is not my goal, it is the process of getting there. For me, Shadow of the Colossus epitomizes the journey. I want to ride across the Forbidden Land as it is bathed in the sun’s bright rays. I want to reach those distant hills and pull back that shroud of grey.