I still can't stop thinking about this game. I very much believe I should give it more time before I go for a second playthrough, but it just won't leave my mind.
Easily my Game of the Year and would very likely enter a top 10 of all time.
I'll share some of my thoughts on why, especially from a gameplay perspective.
As crazy as it may sound, I still insist that Ueda is underrated as a game designer, even by his fanbase. All everyone talks about is "the feels", and the ones who don't like his games, on the other hand, say that the poor gameplay stopped them from feeling this connection. It's a fine opinion to have, but for whatever reason a lot of fans just embraced that as well, and they say that his games have poor gameplay, but are amazing for other reasons. Maybe they do feel that way, but I'm inclined to believe they're just not giving the gameplay enough credit.
Shadow of the Colossus speedruns aren't a thing because of the feels, they're a thing because to this date no other game achieved what that game did when it comes to input-driven giant boss battles. They're usually qtefest "spectacles", that try to sell you on how epic everything looks, without making it actually feel epic. It looks very intense and life threatening, but in reality all you do is wait and press the button the game tells you. The only high budget game that even listened to what Team ICO had to say on the matter was Dragon's Dogma, almost 7 years later, and 4 years passed since Dragon's Dogma released and no other AAA game tried. We just had Final Fantasy XV using giant bosses as a cool looking setpiece where you don't do much but watch the action on screen.
The Last Guardian is a bit of a special case, because it's not just people not giving it enough credit for what it achieves with its gameplay, the whole game is generally underrated, which was a quite a shock. I was expecting the game to be really good, but never reach the highs of Shadow of the Colossus to me, but I was sure it would be a critical darling, 10s everywhere. I was completely wrong on both accounts.
As development tools and graphics advanced, more and more games want to break out of this combat-focused gameplay loop, and consumers reflect this desire. Everyone wants more variety, more calm moments that make the experience more like an adventure, instead of a bloodthirsty psychopath increasing their body count between each story cutscene. Character development and interaction during gameplay became much more prevalent in the AAA space, and is now absolutely expected.
The problem is that the gameplay design didn't quite follow these technical advancements and desires to tell different stories, at least in the AAA scene. When I think of character interaction during downtime from combat in a AAA game, I think forced slow walking. The interaction isn't nearly as meaningful as it is in the combat parts of the games, and it ends up creating this disconnect between the player and the adventure. This is even more obvious during setpieces that try to emulate the pacing of an adventure movie. Everyone acts as if they're facing great danger, but the player isn't put in great danger. If all I'm doing is holding forward while the characters say "wooah, that was close!", it becomes nothing more than a "hold forward to play cutscene", and an unskippable one at that.
The Last Guardian's contribution to the debate, in my opinion, is that you shouldn't have to choose between meaningful interaction and a focus on the adventure. And what an adventure!
Although the title-creature and the world are clearly fantastical in nature, in order for the experience to work, achieving a certain level of verisimilitude is fundamental. It needs to be believable. When you strip the game of all its layers to get to the core, you'll find Trico. So in a way, it's not an exaggeration to say that the game IS Trico. All of the game's systems, mechanics, puzzles, even down to the architecture of the places we explore, everything is built around the creature. And not just in the obvious videogamey way of "it's a big creature, we need big levels", there are at times incredibly small places you need to go through, but the main issue at hand is precisely "how are we gonna fit Trico in here?". Most of the problems and solutions revolve around Trico. The player, on the other hand, is just a boy, with a name briefly mentioned but not subtitled, trying to understand this world and this animal as much as the players themselves.
And it's through that boy that we must learn to interact with Trico, so that we, together (and I can't stress enough how much of a collaborative process it is), can overcome the obstacles on our journey, trying to find our way out and back home. And that's where the believability is so important. Real animals in pretty much any other game don't feel nearly as real as here, and that's because of the fact that they're nothing more than gameplay tools, even if wearing the costume of a living being. This isn't a bad thing by itself, don't get me wrong, but since they made the decision of creating Trico as a living, conscious being, it's fundamental that the player can buy the idea that this is an animal with its own will, and for that, it needs to behave convincingly.
Whether or not the game is successful on that attempt is obviously subjective and one of the main reasons why it's such a divisive game (way more than I thought it would be, as I don't think their previous games are divisive, at least not around here), but I personally think they absolutely nailed it. Beyond the points that were already discussed to exhaustion of Trico having its own routine and interests, I'd also like to, once again, talk a little about the collaborative process that this game's progression is. Precisely because it's a believable creature with its own thoughts, instead of yet another tool for the player to handle, the "control" we have over Trico is much more of a "suggestion" than actual direct control. Dealing with this concept is without a doubt the biggest cause of frustration when it comes to the game's controls. But as someone who is really into speedrunning and sees a lot of value in consistency, I was happy to find out that it didn't really feel like Trico answering to you was up to RNG, at all. It's not just giving him a command and rolling a dice, spamming it until it works. As long as you keep in mind that you're suggesting something to a living being, rather than giving commands to a robot, the interaction works fluidly and consistently. People mentioned "this is how animals behave" to defend it, and while they're not wrong, it gave me a very different idea of how it was. I wish my pet was nearly as obedient as Trico is.
When we meet our companion for the first time, it's very weak, far from its former glory, but it's still a majestic creature, and in many moments, all that's left for us is to contemplate its actions in awe, and not uncommon are the moments where our role is merely to take care of it, while it solves the current problem by itself. I've also seen this being criticized a lot, in a "the puzzle solves itself" way, but once again I firmly believe this is a result of the premise itself not resonating with the person. It's true that in some moments you'll climb on Trico and it'll move to the next area without your input, but as I mentioned before, it's not a tool at your command. It's a real animal in that world, legendary and feared as the man-eating beast, but in this particular case, it's also your friend. And this bond that is built throughout the game gives you a role to play during those sequences that is equally input-driven, albeit optional. While Trico clumsly moves to the next area, you can take the time to treat its wounds, for example. Giving it some attention and cleaning it up. These segments are also typically short, and nothing but platforming that the boy can't perform anyway, so even if the player isn't interested in doing that, or doesn't have any wound to treat, you're not having any actual puzzle solving removed from you.
This intelligence and curiosity that Trico shows also makes it an active part during the moments where you action is what will determinate progress, which makes for the majority of the game. Most of these situations ask the player to work with the animal, be it to solve puzzles or fight enemies, figuring out how Trico will fit in a certain environment, using its stature and movement to your advantage, even though from its perspective, all it wanted was not to be alone. There are a few situations where it does nothing but wait for you to solve the puzzle and fetch it some food, but those actually serve as a welcome break of pace, giving you some rare alone time that just makes the threats even more threatening, given the boy by himself isn't equipped to deal with them.
But going back to what I was talking about in the beginning, the gameplay aspect that really made it shine among all of the games that try to focus on character relationship was, surprisingly, the action scenes and setpieces. When you add non-combat focused controls, that lack involved battle mechanics for you to deal with the action, the checkpoints, that are very generous, but don't give you an on-screen indication of when you're safe to fail, and the overall massive scale of the connected map the game takes place in, it all ends up giving a lot more tension and giving a big impact to these combat moments and action-filled setpieces. There's some genuine fear of failing, both for the mechanical reasons just mentioned, and just wanting to preserve the well being of your friend, using gameplay conventions and the feels to make these scenes so remarkable.
They abandoned the general combat conventions of gaming, but not the adrenaline that comes with action, and that was a brilliant decision. The answer to the much discussed question of "how to make a personal AAA game about character development and the feel of an adventure, without boring the player with the lack of action?" is what sounds, in retrospect, completely obvious: Not letting go of the action and the adrenaline rush that comes with it. The Last Guardian without a doubt offers some of the most intense action sequences of this generation, while always keeping that feel of an adventure movie that so many games lose when they try to imitate the aesthetic of an adventure movie but without taking player input into consideration. It's not exciting when the platforms crumble under Nathan Drake because you've seen it a million times and you know he'll grab the platform automatically. It looks dangerous, but it doesn't feel dangerous.
In The Last Guardian it does, not only because you're not equipped to deal with the threats you're facing, but also because you know it won't become a QTE fest, or super heavily scripted segment, for the game to pretend that you could handle it. The basic mechanics are all you have to work with. And also, as mentioned, the fear for the well being of your companion. Every time Trico is in danger, I was in a rush that is not unlike the one I feel from getting to the last bits of health of an incredible boss in Soulsborne. I didn't want Trico to get hurt, and what if my actions could have some impact in how badly Trico could get hurt? I didn't think they would, but what if? Even in segments that I took some time to help it and it was very clear that the game wouldn't punish me for taking my time, I still didn't want to let Trico suffer any more. Many different stories made me cry and care about characters, but only gaming, and only when done in such a unique way, can make me desperate to just make it stop.
Whew. What a ride this game was. Some closing unrelated thoughts:
This game's presentation is superb. It's in my opinion the best looking game of this generation, without a doubt. The soundtrack this time is much more conventional than what you'd expect from Ueda, but it's still very much applied in a similar way, with similar sensibilities. I never felt like it was trying to impose itself and guide my feelings, it merely accentuated what I was already feeling, it didn't steal from the simplicity of the narrative. Veritcality is a constant theme throughout the campaign. At any moment you find yourself outdoors, you can look up to see where you're going and how closer you are to your final destination, and look down to see how far you've come, and you can really appreciate how intense the situations you've been through were, by seeing what remained of some of the previous locations. It's just a shame that this jawdropping scale comes at such a high performance price. While it wasn't enough to make me think of the game as anything less than a masterpiece, it definitely did negatively impact some moments. You just get to an outdoor area after struggling in an oppressive environment for so long, and instead of having a cathartic experience, the first thing you think is "this game runs like shit in open areas".
Artistically, this game is everything you could expect from the names behind genDESIGN. The typical "ruins of a once great place" atmosphere is back, the architecture and its decay help to tell a story of that world and the man-eating eagles, one that is highly up to the player's imagination, much like someone waking up in that place would have no idea of what the hell happened there. But it's just consistent and cohesive enough to feel real, and to feel like wondering about it isn't a waste of time, that whatever conclusion you may reach, is probably somewhat close to the truth.
The main story this time around was told in a much more straight forward way, to my surprise, with even the inclusion of a voice over (that didn't work that well a lot of the time, I must say), and several cutscenes that tell a clear story. The mystery is still there, and there's obviously a lot left for your imagination, but the story of the main characters is told in a very direct way, which I felt was the right decision, to have this "middle of the road" storytelling for this game. I wouldn't want Shadow of the Colossus to be any different, for example, but I don't think vague storytelling can do justice to the kind of relationship that is built between the boy and Trico, so it was a great decision for this particular tale.
It's a game that will most likely move you to tears if you're invested in it and on board with the premise. Not for some melodrama, but for the deep emotional connection created, that makes you actually care about these characters, and gives weight to every decisive moment in the narrative. By the time the credits roll, the prevalent sentiment is satisfaction, for living this incredible adventure to the end.
I've cried before in games, but tears of joy because of Trico's reaction when it found out I was alive? I don't think I ever had any experience like it. At the end, when you give it the command to fly away, I was a mess. And not because I was already building up to it, the moment I knew what to do, and pressed that button, it hit me really hard.
It's a miracle this game was completed and released, but I'm very thankful for it. The industry is better for having games like this.
As a dog lover this was often a brutal experience and the end was just horrific. It's not a sad ending but it's not a happy ending either. Why couldn't the boy go find trico after they all recover? Maybe he did.
