After putting around 90 hours into the latest (and presumably last) Metal Gear Solid, I finally reached its conclusion and am now prepared to ramble to you in an article filled with spoilers! You have been warned.

As many of you know by now, what was supposed to be the final mission and boss fight were cut from the game due to various reasons (one of them being “fuck Konami”, of course). This meant that the end was never going to be truly satisfying, so yes, especially after seeing all the glowing reviews, I was disappointed in what we were left with. We are forced to play through the opening mission yet again, meaning a 45 minute journey to get to the meat of the new content. The rest is just the same slog of a linear mission which, while bearable enough the first time, is utterly painful to be subjected to again. I could have skipped more cutscenes, but I stuck through it in hopes that the “TRUTH” version of this mission would change more than it actually did. Going into The Phantom Pain for the first time, I was willing to accept the ridiculousness of the opening, truly believing that most of the scene was some type of hallucination. Remember that part where Ahab and Ishmael are lying amongst corpses? Sticking out like a sore thumb, with their perfectly clean bodies, it looked so ludicrous that I thought it had to be part of the twist. But alas it was not. It was actually that dumb.

Metal Gear has always been a dumb series. This isn’t the dumb I can appreciate, though; more flaming whales and bosses spitting bees out of their mouths please--not this bollocks. To see all of this a second time and slowly become more infuriated by the lack of changes in the scene was eventually improved with the big reveal that you aren’t the true Big Boss. However, this was something I predicted from the beginning and was expecting something else huge to be revealed. So I (like many others) left the game lacking a resolution with Eli/Liquid and lacking a grandiose finale. It just kind of ends. After seeing what was cut, I can see an ending that would have been far more satisfying, if still not quite as good as what we’ve come to expect from the series. Although the integration of this incarnation of Big Boss (aka Venom Snake) was effectively placed into the helicopter crash at the end of Ground Zeroes, also explaining the absence of shrapnel in Big Boss’s head in the remainder of the series. It was neat, but that feels like the bare minimum for this particular series.

Which leads me to the main topic of this piece: the story of Metal Gear Solid V is the one you tell yourself.

What I mean by this is that throughout the Metal Gear series, the games have had clunky, less-than-optimal controls, yet all is forgiven due to the enthralling stories Kojima is able to deliver. In The Phantom Pain, these priorities have been completely reversed; the gameplay has been nearly perfected and the story is sparse, with the bulk of it delivered through cassette tapes. I believe the choice to present the story in this way is significant for a number of reasons, one of these being that it reflects the lack of a budget left over to go into developing more cutscenes (although this is pure speculation). A second would be that it displays the willingness of Metal Gear Solid to get out of the players way. By completely dropping codec conversations in favour of cassette tapes, the player is able to unpack the story when and where they desire, usually whilst enjoying the phenomenal gameplay.

This presents a huge change for the series, and maybe not one that was best saved until the last true game in it. Especially for long time fans of Metal Gear (to be clear: I am not included in that group), I imagine it’s rather jarring to not have long conversations with the supporting cast through either cutscenes or the codec. Big Boss being relegated to a mostly silent character is enough of a change, but when combined with the lack of much character development, plot twists and an open world, it all feels so foreign. We can see where the money went however, and it was in the gameplay.

The gameplay is where Metal Gear Solid V shines brighter than any other in the series, and any other stealth/action game, period. Aiding this is the slick, solid 60FPS, which allows for faster reaction times and an overall better experience. The open world is barren in many ways; the meat of the gameplay is always had at outposts, ruins and other such structures. However, this allows for plenty of freedom in the direction and methods of tackling any objective. What’s interesting here is that the objectives don’t get much more complex throughout the game, as it sticks to a standard: go here, capture or kill that thing, maybe find some intel and then get out of the hot-zone. What does get more expansive and complex is your arsenal of gadgets and weapons. When I said that this game shines in the gameplay, I meant that in every single aspect. Every system within The Phantom Pain complements one another beautifully.

The most obvious and successful example of this is Mother Base. You go out in the field and extract the soldiers you knock out, which then opens up more development opportunities for an insane amount of weapons and gadgets. These help you tackle more soldiers and larger bases so that you can get more of them on to Mother Base, acquire more GMP, and open up further developments. This is an incredibly well thought out system, one which gives you a steady, satisfying progression and doesn’t end where the story does. Unlike the entire Metal Gear series (apart from Peace Walker), the game doesn’t prevent you from going back and playing in its world again.

The world itself is one huge sandbox to play in with all of these toys provided by Mother Base. And what fun it is to play with said toys, whether it be piloting a Walker Gear equipped with a multitude of weaponry, or firing your robo-arm at unsuspecting soldiers, there's just so much to mess around with. Whilst the story contains a fair amount of camp and melodrama, it's nothing in comparison to previous games such as Snake Eater. Instead, the comedy comes from the utter absurdity of the gameplay, and only if you so choose. If you're boring like I am for the most part, then you'll rely on the tranq gun to take care of foes in a non-lethal manner. Without a doubt, seeing D-Dog whip out a stun baton and pounce on enemies to take them down livens up this non-lethal approach.

No matter your method of infiltration, there's always some experimentation to be had. While there are less gadgets than weapons, what is there is versatile enough to provide hours of fun. For example, I found myself enjoying missions in which you're tasked with eliminating tanks far more when distracting them with decoys before fultoning them along with everyone inside into the sky. The ways in which you can develop these gadgets is what gives them true depth. Ironically, Big Boss losing an arm actually opens up more possibilities in this area; from "ROCKETU PAWNCH" to electrocuting everyone in the area like Thor with a fully upgraded stun arm.

I adore the way you're encouraged to take a non-lethal approach so that more can be recruited to Mother Base; it feels less contrived than simply rewarding points for not killing, although the game does that too. Letting players easily access completed missions from the menu allows for plenty of experimentation without the concerns of getting the highest rank. Even C4 can be used in a non-lethal manner, as it's useful for distracting enemies or even blowing up power lines to electrocute those caught in the rain. The potential for emergent gameplay appears to be endless and I expect to be seeing plenty of videos for years to come that showcase this game's true brilliance.

Gameplay-wise, one of the only missteps I believe Kojima made is the substantial lack of boss fights. These fights have always been the mechanical highlight of the series, and despite loving the Quiet and Sahelanthropus fights, there wasn't much besides. Especially after playing Snake Eater, the few and far between bosses found in The Phantom Pain are a huge letdown, deprived of any real personality.

I’d argue that Metal Gear Solid V is still an incredible game, but perhaps not in the same ways which made the previous instalments fall under that category of greatness. The stories of this instalment are the ones we'll tell one another, stories of the madness that can take place in Africa and Afghanistan, rather than the huge narrative twists and turns, something I was not expecting whatsoever. Not everyone will be happy that this is what we've been left with, but I can slide down a hill in my cardboard box and strap a balloon to a sheep whilst having my horse poop on command, so I'm pretty happy.

This article contains spoilers for the entire game. Although it isn't a story-heavy game, be warned that the last few paragraphs discuss the ending.

A few weeks ago, I revisited a series that I hadn't touched in about 6 years: Prince of Persia. This decision filled me with both excitement and trepidation, the former due to the massive amounts of nostalgia that I was sure to experience, and the latter a fear that the game wouldn't hold up to my childhood memories.

So how was it?

The Sands of Time starts with an introductory CG cutscene, but despite it looking better than the gameplay, the animations are actually far more unnatural. The resolution is also expectedly awful, with plenty of compression artifacting that makes it an overall unpleasant viewing experience. However, going into gameplay we find a well animated Prince, with wall running and jumping, the gameplay of which still holds up to this day. All of the platforming feels immediately fluid, proving why it was such a well-received game on its initial release.

Something that is extremely odd by today’s standards is the camera; instead of the now traditional method of controlling the angle, left and right on the analogue stick rotates the camera around, but up and down merely zoom in and out. This means you aren’t able to easily look above you without going into first-person. At least it’s a minor problem, jarring only due to how un-optimal it now feels. The camera in Sands of Time is one of the core elements of its presentation because of how cinematic it tries to be, for better or worse. Some camera shots look fantastic, showcased by a few of the platforming and wall-running segments, where the camera zooms out to show both the Prince’s starting location and where he’ll eventually end up. Other times the camera has a very sudden change that can mess with the direction you happen to be walking in. It may also clip through some of the architecture or not pan nearly as smoothly as it should. No matter what happens with the camera though, you can be sure that you’ll hear the ‘SWOOSH’ sound effect that Ubisoft seemed to be so fond of during development. Making the presentation seem forced, as if they were trying to show off the power of the PS2 as much as possible (3 years into its lifecycle). Camera angles throughout the platforming segments are dictated by the game, and this serves to make Prince of Persia feel like a true, 3D evolution of the cinematic platformer it spawned from.

Whilst running, jumping, swinging etc. you feel very involved, far more so than games such as the Assassin’s Creed series, which appears to be a spiritual successor to Prince of Persia, despite Ubisoft’s attempts at bringing the franchise back after the first AssCreed game was released. The control of your movement makes these parts resemble actual 3D platforming, as opposed to parkour. The animations are fluid so that if you are able to string movements together (not hanging on a single ledge for too long), gameplay starts to look closer to parkour, something naturally rewarding for myself.

Moving on from platforming to the other significant gameplay of the Prince of Persia series: combat. This is where things start to fall apart for The Sands of Time; unfortunately the combat gets repetitive and therefore boring quite quickly. Soon it became an absolute chore that I was eventually determined to avoid at all costs. Luckily, I was able to accomplish this a few times by running past all the enemies to some of the few places which weren't sectioned off, allowing me to progress.

But why does engaging in combat become such a fear? A lack of combos certainly lends to the monotony; you can jump from one enemy to the other and string the same set of attacks together, but there isn’t a list of combos available to you because there really aren't any in the game at all. Instead of performing combos, you can do a variety of one-off attacks such as jumping over enemies, slashing their backs and jumping off of a wall to get an advantage as well. While these are fun to do for the first hour or so--and it’s commendable that the developers were so dedicated to the agile nature of the Prince that they incorporated such acrobatic moves into the combat--it’s not enough to prevent it from becoming a grind. This reinforced my annoyance with the combat leading up towards the end of the game, at which point you obtain a new sword that is able to kill enemies in one or two hits.

I was far happier about this than anyone should have been. The joy didn't just come from the feeling of immense power, but from the realisation that combat would now be over much sooner. Anything like this in a game, when you’re happy because you don’t have to do something that was annoying you previously, reflects poorly on its design.

Combat in Sands of Time may be boring, but definitely not devoid of challenge. You’ll likely have to use the dagger of time to rewind a great deal, especially as the game progresses and enemies become more challenging. Unfortunately, there is also a disappointing lack of variety in the enemies, whose frequency of new designs dwindles as time goes on. Yet, you can still see a decent amount of enemies when you look at the game as a whole. Individual fights tend to only throw two or three types at you at once, with these sections being prolonged by attackers that are only replaced by duplicates, making it seem as though you fought the exact same fight about five times in a row just to pad out the game.

While all this appears to be outdated, it comes down to generally poor design that holds The Sands of Time back, rather than technical limitations. What doesn't feel too outdated are the graphics; surprisingly the overall design of the environments still looks fairly good. I can’t speak for the console versions, but on PC with a modded patch allowing 1080p, everything was smooth, with a decent amount of detail and no noticeable aliasing. I was pleasantly surprised that I wasn't put off by the graphics. I'm sure sticking, for the most part, to very enclosed areas and symmetrical designs in temples likely aids the graphics in both their appeal and how much detail is able to be put in. As long as you play Sands of Time on PC--or through the HD collection on PS3--you’re sure to avoid being put off by the way it looks.

Going back to my childhood, I recall becoming confused at the many puzzles in The Sands of Time, even after playing my first Prince of Persia game: The Two Thrones. However, during my revisit I had little trouble with puzzles, of which there are far less than I remember. The majority of them involve turning levers until objects move or rotate into place, with that place being obvious because of either a symbol or the clear indication that you’ll be able to use what you've just altered to progress. I was only completely stumped during the final mirror puzzle because of a confusion of where the light was meant to be directed towards. Aside from this, all other previous struggles appeared to have vanished, with the game offering little challenge outside of the combat.

Even with this lack of challenge, Prince of Persia still provides entertainment through acrobatic sections that give peaceful breaks in between fighting. These are especially entertaining when among hazards such as saw blades, wall scissors and various other ridiculously implausible contraptions. The traps don’t fit in with the architecture in any logical way like modern games might have them; to even begin to think about someone designing these places in a realistic way is hilarious (“To prove their worth, guests of the palace should step on this pressure plate to open the door and then make their way through these deadly spikes and saws before the exit inevitably shuts!”). It’s gloriously video game-y and lends to the sense of nostalgia received when experiencing the series nowadays, calling back to a time when designers were more focused on creating interesting levels first and not realistic environments.

Dialogue between the Prince and Farah also adds to the enjoyability of Sands of Time, with most of the humour coming from how the Prince reacts to Farah’s comments. His remarks are pompous and ludicrous, even more so when he begins to see her as a prize to be won easily with his charm, despite lacking any semblance of such in his personality. Furthermore, this odd chemistry becomes less believable when their relationship suddenly develops romance. Farah could have avoided falling into a love interest, but she doesn't, and as such we are put through a more generic tale, even given the fact that Farah is actually useful for stunning enemies and isn't a typical damsel in distress at all times. Story-wise, Sands of Time does just enough to keep me engaged. While the Prince may be immature, he grows to have more integrity and honour through the journey: perhaps not the most complicated character progression, but satisfactory nonetheless.

Antithetically, the showdown with the vizier is one of the most mundane and anti-climactic final bosses I've ever experienced. It involves the moustache-twirling villain projecting a magical clone for you to fight. There might be a specific strategy to defeat this clone that doesn't involved leaping over him, slashing his back, and then repeating these two steps over and over until he’s dead, but I wasn't able to find it. After dispatching the clone, you attack the vizier himself and see how pathetic he is without the arbitrary barrier of protection he previously had. It makes sense in terms of the plot, but to have a final boss be constrained within a bedroom and subjected to such a pitiful pattern is disappointing to say the least.

In the end, the Prince has sadly undone the entire adventure using the hourglass, meaning his relationship with Farah is all but gone. I may have not gone into much detail about the time rewinding the series is known for, but all you need to know is this: it’s awesome. The mechanic is still a creative way to undo mistakes (keeping up the pacing of the game), slow down time for puzzles or combat, and give you a sense of power without being imbalanced. It isn't fully explored in this iteration, but continues to be expanded in interesting ways further on in the series. However, it is also detrimental to the story by enhancing plot holes in many scenes in which the Prince could have rewound time to undo a mistake. I found myself yelling at him multiple times, specifically when he falls down to a prison area; he could have undone the fall as I have during the gameplay so many times. Even with these issues, you can find enjoyment among the story, primarily for the characters, who I wish had the amount of dialogue we see in modern games such as the Uncharted franchise.

Although Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time might not retain ‘classic’ status in my eyes, it serves as fantastic launch for the series, remaining as one of the best to this day.

- Ben Lucas (@TheYouthfuls)

(Thanks to Ben Ballingall and 'Louie' for helping with proofreading!)

This article contains spoilers for the entire game. If you haven't I suggest you go and play Shadow of the Colossus before coming back to read the rest.

A few days after beating Ico, it was time to move on to Shadow of the Colossus. Before starting this run I had played the game about halfway through on the PS2, so I knew roughly what to expect…

Much like Ico, Shadow of the Colossus starts with a long introductory cutscene, giving you Wander's (our main character) goal: to revive Mono. I would usually complain about a cutscene of this length, but even more so than Ico, Shadow of the Colossus avoids cutscenes by having a mere two of significance. This, as well as the cinematography and overall quality of the intro makes it completely forgivable in terms of length. It’s a fantastic way to start a game; it gives the player a clear goal of killing 16 colossi to essentially rescue the princess. As with Ico, we aren’t actually given the names of our characters, with the exception of Dormin and Agro. It isn’t necessary for the story and Team Ico appear to prefer writing in a way that makes sense, meaning characters don’t all introduce themselves and the plot just happens without any unnecessary baggage.

As soon as this is over with, the player is thrown into a huge, open world to find and kill the first colossus. The world might be large, but you know exactly where to go thanks to a nifty feature in which light reflects off your sword, bouncing in a line to the next colossus. Instead of using a conventional map objective marker, this suits the world of the game far better than anything else I could think of. From the mechanic you can gather that this is a particularly special sword with magical properties. This suspicion is confirmed at the end of the game when it is revealed that Wander stole this sacred sword. Small hints at plot points like this are what Team Ico does well, and they do so by making an interesting form of a waypoint that no doubt took more time to create than a typical one. Light reflecting realistically (in terms of this world) is proven with the fact that when you are in darker places, the light being reflected will dim and getting a direction is impossible in caves where there is no sunlight.

Presentation in Shadow of the Colossus is less understated than Ico, but it is even better in my opinion. For example, despite the light beam acting as a waypoint, a map still exists within the pause screen. The map looks hand-drawn and the colour-scheme fits in with the rest of the game, as it reinforces the scale of the world, as well as lending a sense of progression through segments of the map being uncovered as you travel to, and defeat, each colossus. Furthermore, beams of light pierce the skies from the location of each of the fallen colossi, a superb effect that drives home the slow depopulation of this land. One of the elements I love the most about the map function is the way the camera quickly zooms out from you upwards, transitioning smoothly into the map screen, an effect that looks slicker than the pause or map features in most modern games. Motion blur is used here to improve the transition, as it is throughout the game, giving it a cinematic look that definitely makes it feel less dated. The symbol of a defeated colossus is marked on the map, and with this I felt incredibly satisfied when I began to see the map fill up with colossi towards the end of the game. However, it was also met with depression…

This sense of depression comes from what I would argue is the game’s strongest plot aspect: are Wander's actions just? Are the colossi actually malicious? Should I feel regret for killing some of the only other inhabitants of this land? With a game about killing bosses, it would have been easy to paint them all as awful beings who must be destroyed, ridding the world of evil in order to save the girl! But this isn’t the approach Shadow of the Colossus takes. Instead we are treated to a much more ambiguous story, with the protagonist seemingly wanting to do something heroic (revive Mono), but needing to kill what appear to be neutral creatures, for the most part at least. I love that someone could go through the entire game, and not consider the fact that many of the colossi don’t attack you until provoked. These players could be completely oblivious to the questionable morality of Wander and still have a great time defeating these truly epic bosses.

These feelings of conflict and depression may come after defeating a colossus, but while engaged in battle all you feel is almost constant thrills and tension. This comes from the aforementioned motion blur which not only adds to the cinematic element, but also the feel of speed and being carelessly flung around while on top one of the giants. Speed comes into play primarily with the flying colossi, of which there are two (as well as an underwater one); Wander holding on to a huge beast soaring through the air is the most exhilarating experience to be found in Shadow of the Colossus (not that the other 14 aren’t exciting as well, of course). Because of the stamina bar (technically circle) you are under constant pressure to manage your time atop these beasts, using some of it to get in those vital blows to the head (and other body parts), then to cling on for dear life, then to regain stamina lost from performing both of those actions. Although, when I say dear life I actually mean ‘dear time’, since you don’t really die when you fall from a great height. This is likely to keep the pacing of the game up, due to decreased deaths from falling and the experience smooth, a priority in Ico as well. The design philosophy behind these games is definitely to keep the player immersed and enveloped in the world, and seeing ‘game over’ screens acts as an obstacle in achieving this.

While you don’t take much fall damage even from the greatest heights, that doesn’t mean Shadow of the Colossus is void of challenge. Instead of worrying about health, you are likely to be concerned with how to take down the colossi, as each one is essentially a puzzle. I would therefore consider Shadow of the Colossus an action/adventure/puzzle game, a combination of genres fitting for the uniqueness of the experience. Most of these bosses have interesting gimmicks: one must be flipped over with torrents of water, another requires you to shatter its armour, and it all ends in a long battle comprised of dodging heavy attacks and scaling a tower surrounding the final colossus like a skirt. With a game consisting only of bosses, you’d expect them to all be incredible, and for the most part Shadow of the Colossus delivers. One of the exceptions is a tiger-styled colossus which you must lead around a ruined city, having it knock over pillars to help you progress through what is more like a level than a boss fight. While this is an interesting idea, and a nice change of pace, the main problem comes with the beast being fast and agile, so much so that it is able to stun-lock you until you’re dead. Upon death, no matter how far you have progressed in the fight, you are put back at the beginning to do what I find to be the easy part of the boss: leading him around to the final section of the puzzle. Doing so becomes monotonous, as you’d expect.

In most games you’d have an entire level to continue being annoyed at the previous boss, but in Shadow of the Colossus it’s right onto the next one you go! A boss that is likely to make up for whatever pain you felt from the previous. The structure of the game is probably the most uncommon thing there is; having a game only composed of boss fights changes how players experience it. You don’t gain any new equipment while regularly playing the campaign, so starting with a bow and a sword means the mechanics are fairly basic and never change. What does change are the boss designs and how you go about beating them, the base mechanics staying the same aids this so that the player knows exactly what they are able to do.

Knowing what to do starts off at the basic: I gotta climb this giant thing. From there you work out how to instigate the climb, soon realising that the fur lining the colossi is crucial to this, which makes logical sense and doesn’t need to be communicated in any way other than being a part of the colossi design. The climbing system itself works reasonably well, although in terms of the overall controlling of Wander it’s the shakiest part of the game. Problems arise when there are meshing issues in a colossus and you get caught in the middle of two sections; Wander will be unable to move, becoming stuck in the climbing animation. At first this is annoying, but you soon learn to let go and grab on elsewhere, however it becomes a frustration when letting go means falling off and potentially losing quite a bit of progress on defeating the current colossus. From a mechanical standpoint this is my only complaint; the rest of the game is stunning when you take into account that it was made for the PS2 - so using bloom effects, dynamic shadows and the perception of light adjusting realistically like an eye are all astonishingly impressive.

Something unique to my playthrough on stream was how, as I was taking down some colossi, people in chat were pointing out that I wasn’t doing it the conventional way. For example, instead of breaking the third colossi’s armour by having it hit a stone plate in the centre of its arena, I ran up the beast’s sword and managed to hop across to its exposed torso, climbing up to the weak point and skipping what was thought to be a required action. This happened again with the 12^th colossus (Pelagia), when instead of manoeuvring behind it, I leapt onto its face and got Wander to leap up to the head, skipping an entire section of the fight. This is a perfect display of the versatility of the climbing system, as while it may not work perfectly, it’s fairly consistent. While some may argue that the game is broken if I can do this unknowingly and never find the ‘right’ way to beat a boss, I would say that it adds a lot of fun; I’d rather be able to ‘cheat’ a boss than have an arbitrary, invisible wall blocking me just because I didn’t needlessly shatter the armour of a colossus. The fact that the climbing isn’t restricted and therefore works mostly how you’d expect (i.e. if it’s a ledge or fur, Wander can hold on to it) benefits Shadow of the Colossus greatly in my eyes, even if not everyone will experience the lengths it can go to.

Now we come to the end of the game. All of the colossi have been defeated, Agro has sacrificed himself for Wander's sake in one of the most heart wrenching moments in the game, it’s sad and you should feel sad. If you’ve been paying attention to Wander throughout your time in the game you may have noticed that he has become paler after every ‘victory’ over the various colossi, as well as generally becoming more scruffy and battered. The assumption can be made here that the black substance piercing into him after each colossi has fallen is likely what is causing this to happen. The black shadows which appear around Wander after being teleported back to the shrine, serving as a hub (the only thing close to a loading screen in the game) reinforce this despair, although the more observant may have also noticed the doves growing in number around Mono, suggesting some hope still remains.

The eventful final scene has Dormin keeping his word about Wander paying a price for reviving Mono, by using him as a vessel for his own return. This leads up to you essentially playing from the standpoint of a colossus, although you haven’t really changed characters since it is Wanders body being used for Dormins revival. As this drastic change occurs, you attempt to kill the apparent and sudden antagonists and begin to realise how much of an advantage you had over the colossi; with them lumbering slowly, and unable to keep up with humans despite the amount of power the colossi control. This means attempts at killing these adversaries are futile, as they manage to easily escape and cast the sword which Wander wielded into a small pit, at which point they cast a seal over the shrine to seal away Dormin once more. The thing is: I don’t want or need an explanation for how this works; it’s magic and it’s about what happened, not about explaining how it did. This ending is a huge story dump in the best way possible; there are so many things worth analysing and talking about, from who Wander actually is to why Dormin was sealed away in the first place. With the latter we can assume that Dormin is a sort of malevolent demon, yet we never see him do anything truly deserving of this description, because he does warn Wander of the consequence that robs him of his life (one that he is not interested in hearing the specifics of), and actually keeps his own end of the sacrificial bargin by reviving Mono. Sure he is trying kill the pursuers of Wander, but they are attempting to defeat him, just as you have in 16 amazing battles. The idea that Dormin was sealed in all these colossi implies to me that each one represents a different aspect of him, meaning he isn’t completely aggressive or docile. Another interesting aspect of him are his horns which link back to Ico thematically, but are likely to make you judge him as an evil being, something Ico certainly wasn’t. Ironic, isn’t it?

We are left with Mono being revived, the reveal of Agro’s survival (I can’t begin to tell you how happy I was to see him) and Wander… changed into a baby with horns, this being most obvious link to Ico by implying he either is Ico, which after much thought and evidence, has been deemed impossible (although after your first playthrough you wouldn’t know this), or at least started the bloodline of the horned people. There are plenty of theories out there of what the many details of the story could mean, and that’s what I love; ambiguity in something this high quality leads to speculation and huge discussions obsessing over minor elements; so much so that people are still exploring this largely empty world to this day in search for hints and answers.

That is the mark of something truly special, which is exactly what Shadow of the Colossus is.

- Ben Lucas (@TheYouthfuls)

(Thanks to Ben Ballingall for helping with proofreading!)

This article contains spoilers for the entire game (and very minor spoilers of Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons). If you haven't I suggest you go and play Ico before coming back to read the rest.

So last week on my show ‘BEN BEATS GAME’ (in which I beat at least one game each week), I set myself the goal of finally getting around to completing Ico and Shadow of the Colossus on their PS3 HD collection. I played them all the way through in the same week, finally experiencing these supposed classics and judging them fairly, including any and all flaws I may have found. However, despite any of the criticisms I might throw at the either game from time to time, they all pale in comparison to how incredible every other aspect is.

Let’s start with Ico. It’s one of the most focused games I’ve ever played; it’s about minimalism, it’s about environmental puzzles, it’s about a boy and a girl holding hands. That final point presents an adorable and effective mechanic that I see as the game’s greatest accomplishment.

Reminiscent of last year’s Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, the relationship between Ico and Yorda is built primarily through the gameplay mechanics. Such an intimate relationship between the two of them, as well as the player, is something only possible in games. For example, a book can stress how close two characters are, their reliance on one another and a movie can depict this in various ways. This means that when they are separated you know it’s a terrible thing, you can feel sympathetic towards them. What you can’t do is truly feel like you yourself are missing something. That’s where games like Ico and Brothers come in; Brothers creates a huge impact when you are unable to control one of the brothers at a point. During Ico it becomes routine to go back and get Yorda, meaning near the end when you progress without her by your side there’s not only a character being missed, but also a core mechanic, an actual bond between the player and the character that can only be developed through gameplay. By utilising this, Ico has stuck with me just like Brothers simply due to a mostly ambiguous relationship between a boy and a girl.

Graphically Ico holds up thanks to the unique design and architecture. The setting of a prison is intelligent in that it means the developers were able to get some stunning environments out of a relatively small amount of fairly impressive textures, with the prison setting being an excuse to have these repeating textures considering conventions of a prison imply repetition of the same bricks and design. Instead of many minor details, Ico goes for grand scales with lengthy stone bridges and magnificent doors filled with interesting symbols. However, when zoomed out, as most of it is, the repeating textures are much more noticeable and can take away from the experience. The game looks good because of the pleasant aesthetics, but the design is still based enough in realism that I believe it would benefit from a full remake to improve these shortcomings in textures and anti-aliasing (or lack thereof).

The puzzles in the game are well thought out and executed with only a few things holding some of them back. One of the problems is that while I love the cinematic camera that moves on its own to give a distinct presentation and feel to the game making most screenshots look gorgeous, it creates a problem for some puzzles; they are reliant on your surroundings and you aren’t able to rotate the camera around Ico, leading to some confusion of where things are exactly, but mainly making it difficult to get an easy sense of your current location. Due to some camera angles only showing you the corner of an area, you generally have to spend some time going over the same area just to make sure you know what you’re doing. To get around this, many (including myself) will likely just interact with as many things as possible and eventually see how they fit together. It’s likely that this feeling was intentional, but doing stuff like pushing a box down to another level without knowing exactly why I was doing it made me think more about why the designers put it there and that they wouldn’t let me do this because it would mean I’d be stuck. Unfortunately this took me out of the experience a few times as I saw the environmental design as something constructed by designers (as they are) rather than a real place that could exist. It’s not necessarily an outright bad thing and the feeling of seeing my random decisions come together can be satisfying, it just makes me feel as if I’m going through the motions quicker than other forms of design; get to a new area. Find things to interact with. Interact with all of the possible things. Either the puzzle is solved or I see how to solve it. It’s a more personal sentiment, but I feel that looking at everything, imagining how it all comes together, then trying that out is a better experience. But a restricted camera made doing this inefficient, despite loving it from an aesthetic design point.

Something that Ico has which is absent from Brothers is recurring combat, and it shows as time goes on to be the worst part of the game by far. I’d say Ico is primarily a puzzle platformer that focuses on utilising the environment. Then there’s this combat thrown in, which while it fits with the story, it doesn’t feel satisfying and especially when many shadows are thrown at you it becomes extremely repetitive. The goal of these shadows is to capture Yorda and the fact that the player can’t die means that you’re only worried about her, thus building the relationship and the idea that you need each other. The player requires Yorda to progress through certain doors, and to stand on switches, but Yorda needs to be protected from these shadows. Pulling her back from the shadow pit she gets dragged into is the best part of this combat section, adding the most tension and physicality to the situation. Other than that the combat makes sense considering you’re just a boy with a stick, but doesn’t quite excuse how awful it is. However, you can run past the shadows in various situations which I believe adds to the tension; if you fail to run past effectively your punishment is experiencing some boring combat!

Towards the end of the game, combat takes on new meaning with the subtle reveal of shadows with horns. There isn’t a close-up of them, no zoom-in to show you that these horns are there with some significance, nor any dialogue from them or anyone explaining the story, it’s left up to the player much like the rest of the game. Because the prison is for children cursed with horns, we are left with the assumption that these shadows (at least at the end) are in fact the souls of these likely dead children, or something of the sort.

As previously mentioned, Ico has a large focus on minimalistic design. This is very apparent in the music which is either non-existent or subtle, even in the combat scenarios. This changes for the fight with the horned shadows, instead of the typical track, a more depressing one starts to play which represents the depressing situation of both Yorda (she has been turned to stone) and these shadows. Then there’s the final boss music which filled me with just as much despair as the track before. Essentially all of the music in Ico is fantastic; it’s subtle when it needs to be, and more overt when there’s a real point to it. I absolutely adore this use of music. The main theme: ‘You Were There’, is the only piece featuring (beautiful) lyrics, making it all the more powerful when heard at the very end. I wish it wasn’t used in the HD Collection menu so that the end was the first time I had heard it, making it even more effective of a song.

Yorda carrying Ico out to the boat when he is unconscious is the first time we see her take the more prominent role of a carer, as Ico has been throughout the rest of the game. While they may have been relying on each other, it’s clear that the player is the one doing most of the work, which makes sense from both a narrative and gameplay standpoint; Yorda appears to be fragile and it’s obvious that the player character should do more work so that a complete experience can be had. But at this final moment Yorda returns the favour by saving Ico and parting ways. Thanks to this finale, we are given a satisfying end to their relationship in a cutscene that justifies its existence because of the fact that we never control Yorda and our character is incapable of being controlled at this moment. I have to commend Ico for its sparse use of cutscenes; they are only used for truly huge events within the world and story that likely can’t be achieved without the developers having control over everything. This was such a sad ending before the post-credits sequence. I was saddened because Ico had risked so much just to go back and get Yorda, but instead ended up with two broken horns and no Yorda. This is the second part where I felt affected emotionally by their relationship and events impacting it, the first being the initial separation. The final part was in the post-credits sequence which could have easily been another cutscene, but to engage the player, the developers give you control over Ico wandering the beach, eventually coming across Yorda washed up. This moment overwhelmed me with a great deal of happiness at their reunion; Ico’s goal had been accomplished and Yorda had been returned to her normal state. While I would have been fine with the first ending, the very final sequence was so effective at driving home the relationship built between the characters and how much it meant to me that I can’t imagine the game being quite as complete without it

So overall my thoughts on Ico are incredibly positive, and despite beating it in a single 7 hour sitting I didn’t become too fatigued at any point; a testament to how these mechanics and story intertwine to create an experience that is a joy to play from start to finish. One that I would recommend to anyone who appreciates subtlety, slow pacing and ambiguity.

- Ben Lucas (@TheYouthfuls)

P.S. Those interested in some thoughts in video format can go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erERUNFyZn8

With the release of the PS4 and Xbox One drawing near, there's a lot of talk about what we want from it and what developers are going to do in order to take advantage of this much needed hardware upgrade. But what can we hope to get out of these new endeavours that isn't a simple upgrade in textures?

Improved Particles and Lighting

In the gameplay demos we've seen thus far, there's been a focus on the very impressive particle effects, namely in inFamous Second Son. Delsin has a slue of new abilities, although only smoke has been shown, with that comes incredible particles, all glow-y red and such. It makes the powers much more fascinating to discover and use, I honestly want to see what they look like, just as much as what they do. Knack also displays the particle possibilities of the PS4, with Knack being made up of a ton of gold-plated Toblerones! These appear to grow in size and amount, being the core gimmick of the game, it's a cute little thing, with a dark side from what I've heard. It's always great to see people making fun, casual games for launch titles that don't waste the new possibilities that come with more power.

Furthermore, lighting in games will most definitely improve. Already, Hitman Absolution, Metro Last Light and a few other PC games have given us a taste of next-gen lighting. With coloured light reflecting off of other surfaces: Agent 47's shiny head makes for a perfect lens flare effect when exposed to the sun. Metro Last Light was especially prominent in showing off lens flares, particle effects and overall some of the best lighting in any game. It added a lot to the immersion and atmosphere, so to see console gamers finally get that excites me. No longer will we see jagged shadows on almost every console title, unless it's a massive open world I believe.

Even though I'm a PC gamer, I play consoles from time to time and the next generation only means better ports and games that will take full advantage of our modern hardware. Square Enix in particular has done a fantastic job with their ports, going above and beyond on what many publishers neglect. The new Unreal Engine is paving the way for new lighting and particles, and it's look good.

Bigger Crowds, Better A.I.

Crowds are something that detract from many games, it breaks the illusion of a bustling city, Hitman Absolution has had success in this department, but at the cost of many NPCs being clones of one another. Some games that could benefit with larger and more dynamic crowds are BioShock Infinite, Sleeping Dogs and The Witcher 2. The magical world of Columbia was ruined in some parts for me, with ridiculously small crowds for a city in it's prime.

I hope that the A.I. of these crowds will also improve; we can see that Watch_Dogs might have some of the most dynamic A.I. we've seen in an open world game. If it's pulled off as well as it looks, then we may be seeing the future of artificial intelligence in games. Naughty Dog did a fantastic job with the human A.I. in The Last of Us, but there were quite a few glitches holding it back, let's hope that more games come with enemies (and allies) that have intelligence of that standard and continue to push it.

Utilising the Cloud and Always Online

Forza 5 is already using the cloud to improve the A.I. Of the drivers, making them more like you by studying the way you drive, they call it a 'drive-atar'... yes it's possibly the dumbest thing ever. The whole 'Xbox 180' doesn't mean that every game on it (or the PS4 for that matter) is guaranteed to run offline. Expect companies to use the excuse of 'the power of the cloud!' to enforce always online on to their games. It's surprising that we're already getting into this with Forza and TitanFall, well before developers have had time to tap into the full potential of this new technology. I'm curious if we really need some of it, although it would be nice to see a graphics option in more console games, one that produces higher resolution textures, or further render distances if you connect to the servers.

Larger, Detailed Open Worlds

The game that stands out to me in this aspect is The Witcher 3: sporting a massive world that appears to be just as detailed as The Witcher 2. I just hope that it can also correct the main problem with Skyrim, that being a lack of interesting story or characters, if CD Projekt Red are able to create something that comes close to that, we're in for a very, very special game. The devs have proven themselves in the semi-linear RPG genre before, but to craft a world of that scale, whilst filling it with the same amount of quality as their previous games is a tall order.

More Players

Pretty obvious one here, Battlefield 4 will finally have 64 players on the console, while still being able to handle the immense destruction. I wonder what advantages the PC version will have other than the usual graphical enhancements now that the consoles have finally caught up. With a beautiful engine like Frostbite running all of these players at once, expect to see many more games featuring the ability to play with many more people.

Now that GTA V has teased the huge multiplayer for PS3 and 360, the fact that Rockstar are able to do that on this generation of systems is insane. It makes me all the more excited to see what talented teams like them have in store for next-gen. We'll also be seeing the MMO genre expand into consoles much better with the added power, games like Final Fantasy XIV, Elder Scrolls Online and Planetside 2 and more are coming. So it should be interesting to see how well they will function non-PC systems...

And Much More...

There's no way that I've listed all the awesome developments coming our way as we finally move out of this stagnant generation, so if you have any more ideas, please let me know down below!

No matter what happens in the coming years, it breaks my heart that Ryan Davis won't be here to share it with us all. My thoughts are, and have been with his family, friends and the Giant Bomb crew these past days, R.I.P.

Written by Ben Lucas (@TheYouthfuls)

Before I write my full review on The Last of Us, I feel I should write this to focus on a specific aspect of this incredible game: the idea that you are playing a character, not being one, simply controlling someone in this story. At multiple points throughout my journey in the post-apocalyptic, nature reclaimed America I noticed that I wasn't moving a guy with a gun, someone who only has character in cutscenes, but in gameplay is restricted to a mobile weapon. This is a problem that has plagued many games, BioShock Infinite to some extent and more famously in the Uncharted series (ironically being made by the same developers). However, I can excuse Uncharted; that is an Indiana Jones-style, action, adventure game, therefore the dissonance can be forgiven in favour of a fun and engaging time.

These problems are not present in The Last of Us, the game constantly reminds you that you are playing a living, breathing, character in the form of Joel. Whether it be his comments after fighting, 'that was too damn close', a phrase I found myself returning to time and time again after intense battles, that (on hard mode) left me running low on supplies. Or after picking up and reading a note, in many games you forget that there is someone holding out this note in front of them, reading it just as you do. Naughty Dog reminds you every now and then with Joel giving his opinion on the ideals of the person behind the note, letter etc. Small details like this separate The Last of Us from other 'triple A' titles.

Furthermore, they keep you immersed and grounded in the environment, whilst giving you hints at what the Joel's persona truly is, what his beliefs are and most importantly, what his decisions will be throughout the game. There aren't any choices as to where the narrative of The Last of Us goes, but there doesn't need to be. This is the story of Joel and Ellie, their characters are presented to you and you can't change how they are, the writing is some of the best I've ever seen, spoken with some of the best voice acting I've ever heard. The fact that Joel does some things you may not agree with, or like doesn't make the game bad, it means that you aren't the protagonist, you are pushing him forward, but that does not give you the right to dictate his personality. As 'anti-gamer' as that may sound...

Without spoiling anything, at multiple points during my time with The Last of Us I was surprised with how the story continued, many were, and many of us were looking for another option of where to take the story, yet the developers give you none. After being shocked by this, I came to the realisation that these are who the characters are and I shouldn't want to change that; to do so would ruin the impact of the story and how unique it truly is.

Games can either put you in the role of someone, with you essentially being this person, Gordon Freeman is a wonderful example of this. Or they can allow you to play as a character, one with a personality all their own, Naughty Dog pulls this angle off with flying colours, making sure you remember who you are manipulating. By doing this, they have managed to allow what happens in the gameplay to impact the cutscenes and vice-versa, and half of the story is told through the sections where you are in full command of Joel's actions. With notes and various other pieces off to the side for you to discover, and in doing so, discover more about Joel and Ellie. This is what stood out to me most in The Last of Us, these small touches that can easily be missed, but all come together to form an incredible game that doesn't feel any less of what it could be by what some would call 'restrictions' with the lack of true choice. That is an achievement that should be commended as much as the beauty the graphics or feel of the gameplay...

Written by Ben Lucas (@TheYouthfuls)