Hi, this is Mark Brown with Game Maker's Toolkit,
a series on video game design.

There are many games that designers describe
as inspirational.

But few modern games can claim to be quite
as influential as the quietly beautiful,

cult classic, Ico.

In interviews, game makers have said that
Ico was instrumental in the development of

Papo & Yo, Brothers, Journey, and the upcoming
Rime.

But also less obvious titles, like The Last
of Us, Prince of Persia, and even Halo 4.

Dark Souls creator Hidetaka Miyazaki said
"that game awoke me to the possibilities of

the medium".

So what is it about this unassuming game that
makes it so influential among our favourite

game designers?

Why does it resonate so loudly, when the game
itself is so quiet and restrained?

You see, the game is about a boy and a girl.

You control the boy, Ico, and help the girl,
Yorda, escape a castle.

Along the way you'll solve some puzzles, and
fight shadowy monsters by whacking them with

a stick or a sword. And that is... about it.

Even playing it today it feels distinctly
minimalist.

But this sort of bare bones design was practically
unheard of back on the PlayStation 2.

There was no Limbo or Proteus back then.

But this jarring lack of features and mechanics
was, of course, deliberate, as Ico designer

Fumito Ueda was using a game creation philosophy
that he would later call "design by subtraction".

Early on in development, when the game was
being made for PlayStation 1, Ico had a complex

combat system, a wide array of characters,
and lots of areas like a village, a dense

forest, and a deserted island.

All of that was removed.

Not for financial or technical reasons, but
in an effort to find the core of the game

and then ruthlessly prune everything that
didn't fully support it.

The core of Ico, of course, is the bond between
Ico and Yorda.

Themes of companionship, and looking out for
someone in need.

It's a game where you have to hold a button
down, to emphasise the feeling of holding

someone's hand.

So everything that is left in the game is
there to support that core theme.

Take the puzzles: practically every puzzle
in the game is only half completed when you

reach somewhere new yourself.

The other half is about making a safe path
for Yorda to follow.

And in the combat, Ico can't die.

His only fail state - other than toppling
off the side of a cliff - is to let Yorda

get taken away by these shadowy enemies.

Your safety isn't important, but Yorda's is.

Similarly, because this story isn't Ico's,
he doesn't level up, or have fancy combos,

parries, or finishing moves during the fights.

He just swings his stick about in vein hopes
of defending his charge.

Yorda is needed to open doors to new areas which we've seen in many games with tagalong characters.

But she's also needed to save the game, as
the two characters must flop back on these

stone benches to store your progress.

So it sure would suck, and make you feel vulnerable
and alone, if Yorda wasn't there for a large

stretch of the game, right?

Also, Ueda wanted to focus on the aspects
of the game that sold the reality of this

connection and the world these characters
inhabit.

So Team Ico focused its time on building an
intricately designed castle that was interconnected

and felt like a real space.

And it focused on believable and expressive
animation - inspired by Ueda's favourite Amiga

games like Another World, Flashback, and the
original Prince of Persia.

(Yes. Prince of Persia inspired Ico. And Ico
inspired Prince of Persia.

Video games are weird).

Plus, the team simply removed elements that
broke the immersive feel, and might have reminded

you that Yorda was simply a video game character.

There's no health bar, no map screen or inventory
screen, no static characters with dialogue

that loops unrealistically, and often no background
music.

All told, you're left with a rare game that
is distinctly about something.

And with nothing extraneous to dilute that
message.

I think that's why it resonates.

This is not to suggest that all games become
as minimalist and streamlined as this one,

of course.

The combat in Ico, in my opinion, is a little
too simple and gets very repetitive.

Even Ueda himself admits that he might have
gone a little too far in design by subtraction,

and his follow up, Shadow of the Colossus,
has more elements and mechanics, as well as

health bars and music.

But it's also an action game without traditional
enemies because what use are they, when the

core of the game is better supported in the
fights with these titanic bosses.

It's more to say that in a time of kitchen
sink design, where every game seemingly needs

to have two dozen guns, a crafting system,
micromanagement, and hundreds of side missions,

it's worth thinking more about removing the
stuff that takes away from the idea or mechanic

at the heart of the game.

Does Assassin's Creed really need tower defence
sections?

Did Tony Hawk's Pro Skater really benefit
from the addition of skitchin'?

An example of this in practice, is Fez.

Creator Phil Fish told Gamasutra that his
quirky indie game once had hearts and Zelda-like

heart containers, and puzzles about redistributing
weight - but he decided to remove them, and

other ideas, because they didn't prop up the
central mechanic of rotating the world, and

the central theme of seeing things from a
different perspective.

Ueda's approach to design, says Fish, "gave
me the strength to butcher my own game, and

every time I did the game got better for it,
tighter, more streamlined".

To other developers Fish says "take a hard,
critical look at your game and ask yourself

what is necessary, what really has anything
to do with what you're trying to accomplish".

Because it's easy to add features that you
think are cool, or will increase the game's

length, or give you another bullet point on
your Steam description.

But is it just diluting the core message of
your game, and hurting your ability to have

your game be about something. To say something. To resonate.

Thanks for watching!

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