The Art of Games: Shadow of the Colossus

March 13, 2009 | David Raffauf

In a medium overrun by adolescent girls with questionably little clothing, killing sprees without consequence and the 273rd installment of a Tolkienesque adventure, it’s rare that a video game comes along that I would unabashedly call art. But, that’s exactly what I found in Shadow of the Colossus.  After recently viewing the movie adaptation of Watchmen my mind has drifted back to Shadow of the Colossus and how it also offers a reflection on the quirks and clichés of an entire storytelling medium.

Released in Japan as Wander and the Colossus, this game takes reprieve from the typical video game fare of heroically slaying legions of mouth breathing miscreants.  Instead a disembodied spirit, Dormin, offers you an uncertain attempt at bringing a young woman back from the dead.  The price is reclaiming his fragmented soul from imprisonment in 16 colossi scattered across a lonesome expanse.

In stark contrast to all adventure games before it there are no endless encounters with monsters, no treasure chests to loot, no armor or weapons to collect, no towns to visit; there is only a desolate wasteland filled with mystical Titans.  After entering this forbidden land of empty deserts, murky lakes and craggy canyons, your only companion is your fearless horse, Agro.

As you approach each of the Colossi the mammoth scale of your foe will strike fear into your heart.  The gameplay revolves around finding a way to cripple each giant, climb to a point of weakness and repeatedly drive your sword into its Achilles’ heel.  After you’ve felled your opponent a dark geyser erupts from its wounds and black tentacles reach out to knock you unconscious, transporting you back to hear from Dormin which colossi you will kill next.

In this act lies one of the greatest accomplishments of this game: making the successive acts of slaying these sixteen magnificent beasts feel decreasingly heroic.  This morally gray adventure pits you against forgotten gods awakening from pitch black lakes, abandoned colosseums and a silent sky hundreds of feet above a desert.

The story comes full circle when the main character’s mentor tracks him down in this forbidden land to make him atone for his crimes.  After being shot and stabbed a dark geyser erupts from the main character’s wounds as he transforms into a shadowy colossus, the embodiment of the sixteen fragments of Dormin’s spirit.

Shadow of the Colossus  earned a slew of awards for its game design, visual design, character design, audio design and soundtrack.  Its most dubious award garnered was Most Aggravating Frame Rate, demonstrating the price it exacted from aging PS2 hardware.

The visuals hinged on a collection of photographic and cinematic effects including a desaturated palette, motion blurs and a sometimes shaky camera.  It also used a technique known as high dynamic range (HDR) where multiple versions of the same image, each emphasizing saturation of a different range of colors, are combined into one brilliant image.

Shadow of the Colossus also features a sense of cinematic purpose.  In contrast to most games the main character is almost always off center, lending more weight to world around you and a sense of scale during battles.

I’ve played hundreds of video games and, even including games on more current systems, I haven’t played a game that made such a lasting stamp on my psyche.  The minimalist setting and the lonely hero approach really make this a personal experience.  Similar to games like Silent Hill, the lack of explanation and the ambiguity of key events leave you dreaming up your own paranoid explanations of the game world.  In a seemingly back to basics maneuver Team Ico managed to reinvent a genre.

In my eyes, the beauty of this game is that leaned heavily on my empathy to provide an unforgettable experience. Having a loyal companion that would follow me into battle without hesitation forced me contemplate what exactly I was doing.  It’s amazing that a game with a few short cutscenes and less than a couple dozen lines of dialogue develops gameplay in such an ingenious way that it makes a startlingly human connection with the player.