The Last Guardian and the Language of Games | Game Maker's Toolkit

The Last Guardian is the third game to be
directed by this clever chap. He's called

Fumito Ueda and he's the Japanese designer
responsible for three pretty important games.

There's Ico, which is about forging a friendship
with a girl. Next came Shadow of the Colossus,

which is about toppling giant mythological
beasts. And now there's The Last Guardian,

which cleverly rounds off this triptych by
being a game about forging a friendship with

a giant mythological beast. Called Trico.

Now, the reaction to this game has been, shall
we say... mixed, with plenty of disagreement

about the clumsy controls, annoying input
lag, clunky physics, patronising hints, omnipresent

button prompts, tedious puzzles, and so on.

But one thing most gamers can agree on is
that this game does a pretty stellar job of

depicting a bond between the boy, and Trico.

And in this video, I want to show how Ueda,
and his team at genDesign, achieved this relationship

not through lengthy cutscenes or dialogue
- but, instead, through the unique language

of video games.

I'm going to start by looking at combat because while it's not a significant part of the game it

offers a convenient way of comparing The Last Guardian to other games that feature a companion character

Now, back in the day, a companion often meant
a dreaded "escort mission", which is where

the player has to protect another character.
Like how Monkey needs to keep Trip alive in

Enslaved, because...

TRIP: If I die, you die

MONKEY: Argh!

This means the player has to do everything.
Monkey has to look after himself, and kill

all the robots, and look after Trip, who can't
attack enemies and can be killed if you don't

look after her.

It makes for an interesting dynamic, but a
lot of players found this style of gameplay

stressful and frustrating. Trip is, I should
say, one of the better ones because she hides well

and can survive one robot attack.

But anyway, in an attempt to fix this frustration,
a more recent trend has seen the rise of invincible

companions, like Elizabeth in Bioshock Infinite
who cannot be killed in combat, so you only

need to look out for yourself and the enemies.

It's a very simple fix, really. And it certainly
avoids any frustration. But it does create

a nagging disconnect between what's happening
in the story, and what's happening in the gameplay.

BOOKER: You think people like that are just gonna
let you walk away? You are an investment,

and you will not be safe till you are far
away from here.

I think she'll be fine, dude. I mean,
going by the combat, Elizabeth is not only

invincible but is actually protecting Booker,
as she finds him ammo, offers up her ability

to pull in machine guns from an alternate dimension,
and even brings him back from the dead.

Of course, we can just write this all off
as goofy video game logic but what Fumito

Ueda has always understood is that video games
speak most loudly through their design. And

he uses this to explore themes and tell stories,
almost entirely through gameplay.

The game Ico doesn't need to tell us that
it's a game about a boy protecting a girl.

We get to experience it ourselves, as Yorda
is frail and vulnerable during combat, and

the invincible Ico has to save her at every
turn.

The Last Guardian is the mirror image of Ico,
effectively putting you in the role of Yorda.

The boy can't defeat the magic soldiers, and
will die if he's taken into a spooky door.

Trico, on the other hand, is invincible and
massively effective in combat.

And so, we feel vulnerable when we're alone,
and thankful for Trico's company when he saves

us from danger.

In all of Ueda's games, combat is not just
something to do to pass time between the story

bits. The roles that the characters take in
combat tell us so much of what we need to

know about their relationship to one another.

Outside of combat, The Last Guardian shows
us that this is, actually, an interdependent

relationship, where Trico needs the boy, just
as much as the boy needs Trico.

And I think a stronger bond is forged when
both parties help each other. That's why Enslaved

narrowly escapes the escort mission trap,
as Monkey ultimately relies heavily on Trip,

to create distractions and hack stuff.

There are lots of examples of this in The
Last Guardian, such as the boy petting Trico's

back after a fight to calm it down, or him
finding it barrels of food. But let's focus

on these stained glass eyes.

Whenever Trico spots one, the creature becomes
paralysed with fear, and it won't move forward

until the boy has found a way to smash or
remove the eye.

This gives the boy a chance to protect Trico. And it shows how the two characters

are strong in different ways. Trico is powerful
in combat, while the boy excels in platforming

and puzzle solving.

But this also establishes some pretty clear-cut
rules: the boy can't defeat enemies without

Trico, and Trico can't advance until the boy
destroys these stained glass eyes.

Rules like this help you understand how the
game works. So when you reach a room like

this, you know exactly what it all means. There's
a stained glass eye, which the boy needs to

remove, but he's going to need to go through
these enemies, without Trico, to approach it.

It's tense and nerve-wrecking, but it feels
good when the glass has been smashed and Trico

can join the fight.

And then I got to this bit. Two soldiers are
blocking this window by holding up shields,

made from stained glass. I knew what it meant,
and I knew what to do. I needed leave Trico,

sneak around, shove the baddies off the ledge,
and let the beast through.

Except, I rushed in, dropped down, and got
ambushed by soldiers. I struggled free, and

ran up the slope, and shoved one soldier
down before being grabbed again.

I knew, at that moment, that I was screwed.
The boy can't fight these soldiers and Trico

can't help because of the shields. Rules are
rules. It's over. And then this happened.

Oh. Yeah.

The game wanted to show me that the relationship
had advanced to the point that the boy's safety

was more important to Trico, than its own
fear of the stained glass eyes.

And to do that, it broke a clearly established,
mechanical rule. Which are supposed to be

these unbreakable, static... well, rules.

And to me, this made it more impactful than,
say, the bit in The Last of Us where, after

establishing that Ellie, another invincible
companion, shouldn't use a gun

JOEL: Uh uh.
ELLIE: What? I need a gun

JOEL: No you don't.
ELLIE: Joel. I can handle myself.

JOEL: No

She then shoots a guy to save Joel.

That's a really good cutscene and strong storytelling.

ELLIE: I shot the hell out of that guy, huh?

But I think the moment in The Last Guardian is actually stronger.

Because, and this is gonna get a bit arty
farty but stick with me. It's clear that each

artistic medium has its own unique language.
Painting uses the language of shape and colour.

Music is an exploration of sound. Literature
uses the language of, well, language. And

film is about moving images.

And video games can, of course, use all of
this stuff. But what makes the medium unique

is interaction. Things like mechanics, rules, and systems you can poke at are the language of video games

- and so where Naughty Dog is largely borrowing
from film to tell the story of Joel and Ellie,

by using mechanics and rules to tell their story,

The Last Guardian is an artistic work,
in the medium of video games.

The Last of Us does gets some bonus points
for making Ellie become a more formidable

character in the combat sequences, following
that important cinematic.

ELLIE: You're welcome.

Anyway. This moment is all part of Ueda's
plan to sell Trico as a real creature, rather

than a predictable and flawlessly programmed
video game tool. We can see this in the incredibly

lifelike animations and in familiar moments
where, say, Trico hesitates to jump into the water.

But this is also where the game's most controversial
decision crops up, as Trico does not immediately

and reliably listen to the player's commands.

Ueda says "When the boy calls Trico, we could have
made Trico come immediately, like clockwork.

But if we did that, Trico would not seem like
an independent creature. It wouldn't seem

like it was alive and making its own decisions."

Instead, you have to be patient, and learn
to understand Trico's sounds and body language.

Plus, according to players on Reddit, the
way you interact with Trico can impact its

loyalty and responsiveness. All of those wonderful interactions with Trico, like removing

spears, tending to its wounds, finding food,
and petting it can all make the creature a

better companion.

In a way, this all sounds like another great
decision to use gameplay mechanics to show

the relationship between the boy and Trico.
We see that this is an animal, and that the

boy can't rely on Trico like he could a human.
And by building a system where certain interactions

change Trico's behaviour, we can explore,
as players, what it's like to love or mistreat

an animal.

And that is cool. But isn't always fun.

And this is a unique challenge of being a
games designer who is interested in making

a game that says something interesting. Similar
to our discussion on Dark Souls, where Miyazaki

has to sacrifice certain players because those
games wouldn't be as meaningful without their

intense level of difficulty.

In this instance, making systems and mechanics
that are both enjoyable and charged with meaning

is a brutally difficult balancing act, and
one that Fumito Ueda boldly attempts with

every game he makes.

Whether he succeeds or fails is ultimately,
up to each individual player. Sorry, that's

a cop out. But for my money, I'm glad there are developers like Ueda out there,

at least willing to take these risks to do
something a bit... different.

The Last Guardian is about a relationship
- and not just in the cutscenes, or in tiny

scraps of dialogue between fights. Everything,
from the roles in combat, to the way you solve

puzzles, to vignettes that are set up by the
game's rules - it's all there to say something

interesting, and we get to explore that as
players - because it's said through the unique

language of video games.

Hi everyone. Thanks for checking out this
video. I'd love to hear your thoughts on The

Last Guardian in general in the comments below.
This has been a very divisive game and I'm

curious to know how it's landed with all you
guys out there. Game Maker's Toolkit is now

entirely powered by Patreon, which is fantastic.
The people on screen are those who have pledged

five bucks or more.

While these names are scrolling past, I wanted
to take a moment to talk about a few more

games that do an excellent job of speaking
through their mechanics.

Indie games are especially brilliant at this. Undertale is a game that tells us a lot about the game's

wacky cast of characters through the way they
fight. Papers, Please lets us poke and prod

at a system to reveal a message about bureaucracy
and corruption. And Brothers tells an amazing

story of two siblings pretty much entirely
through gameplay that I wish I could say more

about but all the good stuff is in spoiler
territory so just go buy it.

Also, while you're here, check out my earlier
video on Fumito Ueda's philosophy of Design

by Subtraction, where he removes everything
that doesn't contribute to the game's core

idea. You can definitely apply that to The Last
Guardian. so maybe give that a rewatch now

you've played his third game.