Tuesday 11 October 2011

From the pure white of a sun bleached title screen, glimpses of a daydream form. Bits and pieces swirl and wash-up on the shore. The reflection of a broken bridge towering across the horizon, a young boy chased by shadows. The voice of a young girl with a single word etched on her lips.

The increased resolution in the rerelease of Ico allows us to see many things that were unnoticeable or difficult to distinguish in its original release. This is mostly evident in the incredible animation of the two primary characters. It has often been asserted that Director Fumito Ueda's animation and visual arts background are responsible for the unique look and feel of his games. They are minimal, stripped of superfluity. They are prime, and all too rare, examples of design by subtraction. The sparseness of the ludo-narrative and the geometric simplicity of the environment allows the focus to be applied to character. When Ico and Yorda rest at a save point (an elegant solution, the save point is a stone sofa; when we take a break, so do they. Or vice versa) we see Ico's breathing is laboured, unlike Yorda's, whose subtle animation expresses her intrinsic calm. After a short period Ico starts to nap, his head falling towards Yorda as she mirrors him. Later, Yorda wakes and goes off exploring, independently of Ico. It is a delightful use of idle animation and one that's probably rarely seen. Another surprise is, as he is being attacked, Ico faces the Shadows. As they fly overhead, his head turns with them. Given that I believed this was a unique feature in the Wind Waker I am amazed at its appearance in one of the earliest PlayStation 2 games. I'm intrigued and unsure as to whether they were in the original game at all. I certainly can't remember them, but that in itself is inconclusive. It is to the eternal credit of the game that, even ten years on and after many playthroughs, one can still find subtleties that reveal just how thoughtful this simple game really is.