Reviews from

in the past


The following write-up can be considered both an addendum to my spoiler-heavy thoughts upon last year’s replay of Shadow of the Colossus as well as an expansion of my blurb from Pangburn’s “Sight and Sound” Backloggd-canon project. I can’t give him enough credit for his work and giving me the opportunity to contribute in my own little way.

If someone were to ask me what I’d consider to be the greatest game of all time, Shadow of the Colossus would most likely not be my first answer. I’d probably point you to a few candidates that not only elevated the medium, but were also titles that I’d consider practically perfect with no major blemishes: perhaps something like Super Metroid, Chrono Trigger, or most recently, the original Resident Evil remake. That said, Shadow of the Colossus stands above all of these games in my heart, because despite any gripes, I would argue that practically all of these potential “weaknesses” contribute to the final artistic vision. Somehow, it transcends my definition of a perfect video game, and becomes something much more.

It'd be easy to characterize Shadow of the Colossus as a boss-rush with puzzle elements, but I find that this description misses the point. Trying to classify Shadow of the Colossus as “yet another boss-rush” would be like trying to classify Ico as “yet another puzzle-platformer;” perhaps it would be more accurate to describe both as cases where gameplay, as the vessel for storytelling, happens to be a series of boss fights for Shadow of the Colossus or a series of puzzle-platforming segments for Ico. Fumito Ueda himself claims that “They're not bosses… they’re more like inverted Zelda dungeons.” Labeling the colossi as nothing more than bosses would be doing a disservice to the layers of history that these colossi represent, these storied and often majestic creatures rudely awakened by a complete outsider. Moreover, transforming traversable dungeons into responsive boss encounters breathes life into the experience. You’re not just traversing this static, emotionless backdrop; you’re scaling this moving, living being that knows you’re trying to snuff out its existence, an end to justify the means of cruelty. The colossi serve more than just checkpoints at the end of sequences: they become the sequences, their identities firmly embedded within the few minutes spent observing, climbing, and slaying them up-close as they struggle to persist in the inevitability of the ritual. It lends this whole ordeal a layer of intimacy that simply wasn’t found in many action-adventure games of the time.

For this reason, I also think that trying to compare Shadow of the Colossus’ limited controls to other action-adventure titles of the time is ultimately a fool’s errand. This is not your typical power fantasy by any means; this is the classic tale of David vs Goliath, told sixteen times with various degrees of ambiguity. Despite the fantastical nature of your surroundings, Ueda sought to preserve a strong degree of realism to better capture the gravity of the player's actions. Wander is no glorious action superstar: his quest to slay the colossi regardless of whatever price must be paid reeks of desperation. It’s why his movement speed and jump feel so constrained, and why his sword thrusts feel sluggish at times. There’s a certain weight behind all his actions despite any pullback, and it fits perfectly alongside the sheer size and awe of the colossi. Their ability to swat Wander about like a flea, or send him flying just from a simple stomp, or even how Wander is bucked to and fro from simply trying to stay standing atop shaking colossi conveys fragility better than any spoken or written language ever could. Even the pain experienced by the player from tightly gripping upon the controller, just as Wander tightly clasps onto the colossi’s fur for dear life, plays right into the sheer tension of the encounter: it’s one of the purest expressions of controls as the extension of the body, just taken in the traditionally opposite direction to lend a sense of commitment behind every action taken in the moment.

What I think stumps traditional audiences, is that Shadow of the Colossus is a game that often makes you doubt yourself. It’s easy to lose faith against this hulking behemoth staring you right in the face that could sneeze on you and send you careening several feet away. Couple that with the thumping drums and clashing chords of tracks like Grotesque Figures and Liberated Guardian alongside overcast and dismal settings, and it’s no wonder that the player often feels disempowered. But that doesn’t mean you can’t turn the tides of battle. In fact, Shadow of the Colossus is a game that doesn’t simply coax adaptation, but rather, demands it through emergent solutions. When making mistakes can end up chipping away half your health bar or falling off the colossi entirely to restart preparation and climbing sequences that can take valuable minutes, every decision matters that much more. With Wander’s limited set of controls and tools (jump, climb, a dodge-roll, Agro, and your sword + bow and arrow), every factor in the environment must be considered… and Team Ico pulls this off effortlessly because not a single detail goes to waste. Anything even remotely distinct within the vicinity, including the bodies of the colossi themselves, are most likely a piece of the puzzle required to scale and discover any weaknesses. Moreover, the game keeps you on your feet despite maintaining its core design principles by varying practically every aspect of the colossi designs (including size, which affects their speed) as well as their respective environments, with few discernable patterns in the overall sequence, forcing players to reexamine their surroundings with every new encounter. In that sense, combat is laborious, but calculated: observation is often required to coax interactions that can get Wander into favorable positions, as the colossi AI follow sensible patterns that must be proc’d with specific player responses (i.e. shooting a colossi with an arrow will immediately draw their attention). The other half of the battle is maintaining patience and not losing your composure in the heat of the moment. As the frame rate buckles from the colossi consuming your screen space and the camera flies wildly about, conveying your character’s sheer difference in size so innately, you have to make quick judgement calls on how to preserve what little remains of your dwindling grip gauge through careful positioning (via plants and figuring out the best times & locations to let go and stand still) while never losing sight of your target. Through player perseverance, the fight reaches its climax with valuable player feedback in the form of impactful sword stabs and the triumphant horns of Revived Power. While some would complain that the game never lets you linger in celebration and in fact often leaves you exhausted, I would argue that experiencing that complex, emotional rush is a reward in itself. It is a game that is more than happy to beat you down and leave you feeling insignificant, yet never makes the task outright impossible, and its ability to evoke a variety of emotions while consistently challenging your perceptions is perhaps its most understated strength.

Speaking of challenging perceptions, one frequent complaint is that Shadow of the Colossus’ overworld is empty, with limited meaningful interaction. I reject this assertation that this feature is a weakness, because scattering collectibles and side-quests about the world would defeat the intended purpose of creating a “more realistic feeling of presence.” I also see a lot of players calling it an “open-world” title, and I think this descriptor is slightly misleading; the overworld simply exists to create time and space between each of the intense colossi encounters, and better convey the game’s sense of scale, rather than function as a simulated environment that lets players approach different objectives as they wish. Emptying the overworld of features outside of save shrines and the rare blue-tailed lizard/fruit while silencing the soundtrack (leaving only environmental noises and your horse’s gallop) allows Team ICO to centralize on the act of traversal itself as a form of meditative self-reflection while carefully zooming out and panning the camera to fully display the vastness of the forbidden land, further emphasizing the enormity of this alien world and situation that the wanderer cannot even begin to understand. As an extension of Ico’s core design philosophy of “design by subtraction,” Team Ico sought to remove any element that would distract from the central focus, such as “optional” colossi and excess NPCs. The latter was instead replaced with the sword’s light-beam locator, lending the lighting duality as both a contributing factor of ambience and a gameplay mechanic. As a result, I never did really understand why these long riding sections were often written off by so many; these segments provide a necessary catharsis for players to soak in the subtlety of everything happening around them while discreetly serving as a reminder that there was no place for them on this forsaken earth.

To be fair, it is slightly misleading referring to the player character as a lone wanderer when Ueda heavily stresses the relationship between Wander and his horse, Agro, a detail that often gets overlooked when players bring up the “poor horse controls.” An important distinction that must be made here is that you are not controlling Agro; you are controlling Wander, who is controlling Agro. Realism is again the focus: there’s a natural response time between Wander manipulating the reins and Agro’s subsequent shift in speed. Additionally, this more firmly establishes Agro’s distinct identity within the game, as she has her own AI-movement enabled algorithms that will allow her to proactively avoid danger and return to Wander even without the usual stimulus of Wander calling out. Want further proof of this in action? Try riding Agro over one of the land-bridges or through one of the world’s many forests, and take your thumb off of the left joystick; Agro will naturally steer herself forward and avoid any obstacle or ledge in the way whenever possible. As a result, players have to learn to trust Agro during more-involved riding sections, because attempting to exert too much control will lead to the player fighting the natural horse steering and getting more frequently stuck on geometry; as Ueda himself pointed out, this scheme was based off of the idea that a horse was both a “friend” and a “self-supporting vehicle.” This becomes especially paramount during certain fights where the player must aim and fire the bow and arrow while riding Agro to dodge attacks; these two actions both use the left joystick, and simultaneously juggling the two activities would become nigh on impossible if the player refused to lend Agro any agency during these encounters.

Finally, I’d like to address potential gripes that others may have regarding the storytelling of Shadow of the Colossus. Mind you, I’m not referring to the actual storyline or any particular interpretation of the narrative: I instead want to focus on the act of the storytelling itself. While I’ve heard from friends that the lengthy cutscenes setting up and closing out the game are not ideal, I personally do not believe that these interfere with the game’s pacing in any fashion. Not only do they serve as bookends that do not impact the core experience of switching between riding and scaling colossi, the ending cutscene also serves as a fantastic emotional denouement (during the credits, no less) tying all of your actions together as a nostalgic send-off to further reflect upon your time spent. The short cutscenes in-between the action, on the other hand, keep the player anticipating their next encounter while painting over the deaths of the colossi with the moral ambiguity that would come to characterize Shadow of the Colossus, all with practically no dialogue outside of these moments. It’s also important to note at this time that player control is not completely missing during these segments, because you can still manipulate the camera to some degree during cutscenes to maintain the impression of controllability. This seems to align with Ueda’s beliefs regarding interactivity, for with regards to possible interpretations of the story, Ueda had this to say: “I want them to direct the story themselves.” In this sense, Shadow of the Colossus’ limited storytelling and ambiguous themes make perfect sense, for rather than being a game constructed around a story, it is a story constructed around a game.

To close this off, I want to reiterate that Shadow of the Colossus is by no means flawless. Certain colossi fights take a bit more patience than others due to occasionally stubborn behaviors, rare but sudden frame rate drops in the overworld feel quite unwelcome, and I do have to admit that the fruits and blue-tailed lizards could be eliminated altogether with little consequence to the player. Regardless, many of Shadow of the Colossus’ foibles lend the overall experience a stronger sense of identity in how they meld emergent gameplay with understated storytelling, and are at worse, fairly understandable given how the game was so markedly ahead of its time. Having now completed my third playthrough, I do not believe that Shadow of the Colossus is in any way worthy of the descriptors “aged” or “outdated.” While it does require me to meet it on its own terms, its various innovations and design choices make complete sense once given the context of its scope, and its ability to "tackle any obstacles to building that empathy" remains practically unmatched. Shadow of the Colossus was exactly what it needed to be and accomplished exactly what it sought out to do in the time it was made, and to this day, remains a triumph for the medium with its ambitious yet realized integration of visuals and interaction.

If my thoughts seem somewhat pointed, I promise that this was not written with such intentions. I absolutely understand why others may become alienated or be afraid of everything that it represents; by its very nature, Shadow of the Colossus is a game that doesn’t have something for everyone. Perhaps that is what makes it so compelling to me: because there’s a real element of danger involved. It still feels like a miracle that something so blindingly unconventional yet so realized and unmistakably human and empathetic ever came to fruition in the first place, further challenging contemporary conventions in an era where well-known game developers had already pushed so far in their experimentation. Regardless of whether or not I’ve reached you, my message remains the same: throw away your expectations, and see for yourself what Fumito Ueda created all these years ago. Don’t worry if it’s not your thing; while it genuinely gives me no pleasure to see others struggle with my favorite game, I’ll still be proud that you gave it a fair shot. I only wish that everyone could see what I see in Shadow of the Colossus.

The colossus before you stands tall, eclipsing the sun and shaking the earth with it's very presence. The grip on your sword tightens, the ancient relic of legend feeling near-worthless before the sight in front of you. But even in the face of such a mighty opponent, you will not be dissuaded so easily. No beast is too mighty for you. So you will climb, and you will fell the mighty behemoth, because you have no choice. If you turn tail now, then what was the point in taking the first step?

Shadow of the Colossus is a game about the sacrifices we make for those we love. Our protagonist, the Wanderer, has arrived at the edge of the world, a barren and desolate land decorated with the ruins of a society long past; tasked with the slaughter of 16 Colossi in order to resurrect his dead lover. The colossi in question are majestic in their appearance and scope, veritable Goliaths in contrast to our David, the Wanderer. They move and act with the grace and unseemliness their ancient appearance affords them: slowly and with much difficulty, treating you more like an annoyance than a proper threat. As you figure out how to scale and critically strike these lumbering giants, the articulate animations and camera work come together to properly sell the sense of scale such large creatures should possess. You truly feel insignificant in their presence and your battles against them are akin to ant trying to topple a elephant.

With each colossus felled, the Wanderer slowly but surely succumbs to whatever darkness the colossi contained. Yet, even as the Wanderer decays before our eyes and our resolve falters in the face of the Colossi, who are for the most part, docile beasts being ambushed and murdered for the sake of our objective, we will push on. We cannot question our path or our actions, because we've come too far to turn back. This bloodshed is for a good cause isn't it? We're doing it for love. We're doing it to give a second chance to someone who deserves it. The corpses that we leave in our wake is all for a good cause. It will all be worth it in the end.

...Won't it?

É humanamente possível ''avaliar'' Shadow of the Colossus? Eu acredito que não seja algo que dê pra colocar em palavras e simplesmente atribuir uma simples nota ao jogo, então não vou fazer uma review avaliando os ''pontos positivos e negativos'' do mesmo, vou só tagarelar e falar sobre esse jogo que eu amo tanto, então se quiser ver um maluco pelo jogo falar um monte de coisa é só continuar lendo. Um amigo iniciou o remake do PS4 e veio conversar comigo sobre, pois sabe que eu sou doente pelo jogo, então naturalmente eu fiquei com saudade e comecei a ver alguns vídeos sobre SOTC pra matar a saudade, especialmente os sobre os mistérios e colossos excluídos do jogo, algo que me fascina de maneira inexplicável. Eu era um dos que procurava pelos segredos do jogo andando pelo mapa, coisas como o infâme 17° colosso (que claro que não existe), ou tentar fazer o inexistente final alternativo que ninguém nem sabe de onde surgiu a ideia inicialmente, ou simplesmente andar pelas misteriosas Forbidden Lands e imaginar como era aquele mundo antes, que é um dos mundos mais incríveis e fascinantes que já vi em qualquer jogo, mesmo que seja ''vazio''. Eu lia blogs diariamente sobre o jogo pra ver se tinham encontrado alguma coisa de novo, seja alguma novidade em relação ao ''mistério'', ou se acharam algum arquivo levando a algum colosso excluído, ou arena, algum vídeo, alguma demo antiga que vai ter o breakthrough que precisavamos, mas sinceramernte, podia ser qualquer coisa que pudesse me atiçar a ler mais e mais sobre o jogo. Naquela época vários pré-adolescentes, (ou só eu) sempre buscava algum jogo que tinha algum gameplay avassalador, posso citar de exemplo Resident Evil 4, GTA SA ou GOW, mas Shadow não se trata apenas de gameplay, então com isso em mente o efeito que ele teve em mim pra eu começar a fazer todas essas coisas é algo simplesmente absurdo e eu não consigo bem explicar, parece que o jogo te enfeitiça apartir do momento que você olha pra capa. O negócio tava tão ''feio'' que em certo ponto eu ficava plena aula de artes desenhando meus próprios colossos no caderno de desenhos junto com suas respectivas estratégias que eu inventava e ficava imaginando, eu sou um completo terror quando se trata de desenhar, mas isso não me impedia de fazer isso. Eu nunca fiz algo do tipo seja antes ou depois, isso só prova o impacto absurdo que esse jogo teve na minha vida, de tocar o terror no GTA pra imaginar coisas em um mundo fictício é algo completamente absurdo quando paro pra pensar nessa metamorfose que tive naquela época, só prova o quanto o jogo é cativante.

Pois bem, é óbvio que eu fui rejogar depois de ficar nos últimos dias consumindo conteúdo sobre o jogo, algo que claramente não era o suficiente pra matar a saudade. Eu já o tinha no meu pen drive conveninentemente e meu PS2 sempre fica instalado. Ainda tenho os meus memory cards com todos os meus saves da época do PS2, e claro que todos do SOTC ainda estão lá. Shadow tem NG+, e nos save files ta marcado quantas vezes você zerou o jogo, divido em 6 slots que estão marcando 8 vezes zeradas no normal e 4 no hard, agora com a nova zerada são 13, acho que eles sabem que o jogo enfeitiça já que não tinha necessidade de marcar isso, mas quem sou eu pra reclamar? Não teve jeito, esse jogo ainda consegue me surpreender e me arrepiar da mesma forma de quando foi a primeira vez que o joguei, tudo é fascinante, a intro, o primeiro momento que você assume o controle, a atmosfera, a antecipação do que está por vir, o sneak peek na arena do colosso e finalmente, a cutscene revelando o mesmo é algo que ainda consegue me deixar maluco mesmo já sabendo como cada um deles são ou tudo que está por vir. Dessa vez percebi alguns detalhes impressionantes que não tinha percebido antes, como a Agro se sujar de areia durante a luta com o Phalanx ou o jogo ter algumas transições suaves de cutscene pra gameplay. Sobre a narrativa minimalista de SOTC eu consigo apreciar ainda mais depois dessa rejogada com mais atenção nas nuances, Wander tem menos falas que o Boss no Phantom Pain, que tem miseros 4 minutos de fala no total, Wander não deve ter 2 e isso contando todos os grunhidos, mas como que mesmo assim ainda conseguimos nos conectar ao personagem? Mal sabemos quem ele é ou de onde o mesmo veio mas mesmo assim torcemos pelo cara enquanto ele assassina criaturas possivelmente inocentes, álias, não sabemos sobre absolutamente nada, o que diabos aconteceu nas Forbidden Lands? O que exatamente são os colossus? Quem diabos é a Mono? Que treta rolou entre Dormin e os Xamãs? Não sabemos nada, mas precisamos mesmo da resposta e ter a chance de tudo perder a magia? Talvez sim, talvez não, mas uma coisa que já disse pros meus amigos é que se algum dia Shadow of the Colossus tiver uma sequência, eu viro sonysta nunca critiquei num piscar de olhos. Mesmo com tudo isso, sinto que tem ainda tem algo naquelas terras que ainda falta ser descoberto, mas só saberemos isso se alguém conseguir hackear o cérebro do Fumito Ueda para nos dar a resposta. Uma obra de arte em forma de jogo, não existe algum jogo igual e acho que nunca existirá.

O jogo da minha vida, simplesmente perfeito, a direção de arte, a trilha sonora, o designer, a sua história, são impecáveis nunca um jogo me fez sentir tantas emoções como esse. Obrigado Fumito Ueda, obrigado.

I love this game and its unique atmosphere and structure. There's nothing else quite like it. I feel like Ico and The Last Guardian don't especially live up to the hype they have, but Shadow of the Colossus is on a different level. I'm also a big fan of the niche community that grew around exploring the out-of-bounds areas of the game.


Many people looking for the art in the video game industry are looking for specific things they can take away from each game, a specific message whether posed narratively or thematically. I don't mean to imply Shadow of the Colossus is lacking something deeper in regards to a message, but it proves the most artistic element of video games as a medium, is all in the name; the visuals and interactivity, packaged as one. Mechanics and spectacle became effectively inseparable in Shadow of the Colossus due to the heavy reliance on the camera, placement of fur and everchanging hitboxes of the Colossi which are perfectly mapped to sync up with what you see, thus meaning the two most core elements of the medium are in harmony. This is all important as Shadow of the Colossus is a mechanically simple game reliant on puzzle-centric bosses where the most truly crucial element is how it makes you feel, yet it's separated from a "movie game" by the fact interaction is never really taken away from you. The most clear example of this in Shadow of the Colossus is how it uses R1 to force you to cling on for dear life; you cannot let go for a second or you need to restart the boss fights intended sequence which allows for some beautifully tense moments of hope and exhilaration that no other medium could ever possibly replicate. These are all simple technical descriptors of a game that quite simply cannot be described on pure technicality; it embodies everything that make video games my absolute favorite form of art in that you cannot climb a giant and describe it only through words or pictures. Memories form based off of experiences and not based off of descriptions, video games tell stories through experiences and the artistic merit is entirely about the importance that experience had to you in life rather than just an intended effect. You couldn't get the same feel of awe from someone telling you the story of their personal fight against a great Kaiju via climbing it, you have to do it.

Fumito Ueda…what a genius. After the success of ico, Ueda and his team got working on their next game: nico (Ico 2) which would eventually turn into shadow of the colossus.

The game starts off with a random guy on his trusty horse as he lays down who we can only assume to be someone he loved…all of a sudden a mysterious voice tells him that he can bring her back if he kills 16 colossi…and that’s where the game begins! You go around killing each and every colossi slowly filling out your promise to the mysterious voice. The game can be slightly repetitive but it spices it up via the colossi having different designs and ways of killing them, some being easier than others.

Overall, it’s a gripping tale that shows Ueda at his peak and pushes the ps2 to its maximum.

Lovely visuals, great music, gripping story, I swore at too many colossi…

Um dos mundos mais interessantes e imersivos já criados. É esse mundo que sempre me faz retornar ao game depois de algum tempo. Os colossi que o habitam são só a cereja do bolo.

Dois elementos da Forbidden Lands a tornam tão especiais para mim.

Primeiro, elas não foram feitas para você, o jogador. É normal em games que as coisas sejam feitas levando o jogador em consideração, de maneira positiva ou negativa. Então, na maioria dos jogos, os mundos foram projetados milimetricamente para tornar a experiência prazerosa para quem joga. O contrário também não é incomum: mundos hostis que parecem querer te matar de todas as formas possíveis - pense em Dark Souls. Já as Forbidden Lands parecem completamente apáticas à sua presença. As ruínas dali são de um povo há muito tempo desaparecido e seu propósito agora é abrigar os colossi. Você não passa de um intruso, literalmente entrando em terras proibidas.

O segundo elemento que gostaria de destacar é o vazio e solidão das Forbidden Lands. Ou, melhor, o seu vazio na medida certa. O mapa de SotC não é completamente vazio. Mas ele é ocupado apenas com o suficiente para que sua mente preencha o resto. É por isso que depois de tantos anos várias pessoas continuam explorando cada canto da Forbidden Lands, procurando por segredos que não estão lá mas que sua mente te diz que têm que estar.

Anyways, jogão, grande clássico, yadda yadda.

You can slander Shadow of the colossus all you like for its endless pathfinding, clunky controls, awkward camera, but the fact is:

Shadow of the Colossus is still a one of a kind experience. And you know it.
A truly special video game that feels so different from anything else I have played before it. Or since for that matter. That sombre, almost tragic atmosphere is just something else.

No game feels quite like Shadow of the Colossus.

A remarkable achievement in daring vision and creativity.

this game is so perfect that sometimes i think they made it for me.

I've always loved games but this game got me to love them differently.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

You are a lone boy. With only your trusty steed by your side, you take on a quest that will ultimately lead to a grim end for yourself.

You convince yourself that it is all worth it, in order to save the girl. Nothing else matters.

You enter the empty, isolated wasteland. An unnamed region lacking any other sort of true sentient life, besides that of the Colossi.

These massive, diverse beasts are the only beings standing in the way between you and your goal.

You slay them, with full force and brutality as their black blood spurts out in a pure violent display.

Accomplished, you do not feel. You have killed a creature that was simply minding its own, living a life far removed from any conflict before you arrived and toppled it.

You notice that your arms, legs, and face grow darker and more smudged the more you kill, your clothes more soiled and worn.

This pact with the voice from the heavens is slowly corrupting you from within, as with every colossi you slay, your heart darkens as their souls seep into your own.

Shadow of the Colossus is the purest form of "The ends justify the means." With how after every Colossi dies, there's a sad, ominous choir singing a haunting melody, as if every fight was a funeral procession, or how the emptiness of the world results in this pure "I only care about what I need to do" mentality as you desperately hunt down the beasts is expertly put forth through the cinematics, and world design.

For a 2005 PS2 game, this game is gorgeous, and its visuals help to show a world that has been battered and beaten, but still alive.

I still wind up with at least one complaint however.

As much as I am well aware that the gameplay isn't really the most important aspect here, that would be the presentation, I do think the controls in this game feel very clunky and unnatural. I can understand it for when you're climbing the Colossi, since that makes sense, but even basic platforming or even getting on the horse is an incredible fucking hassle at points.

Other than that, this game is a thematic masterpiece with an underlying narrative that begged to ask gamers if killing these creatures was the right thing, an entire decade before Undertale even came to be.

Personally, I thought that killing the Colossi brought no satisfaction, and it shouldn't. They were mostly just doing their own thing before I came and slaughtered them.

How you perceive satisfaction in combat is what will ultimately define your view of this game.



P.S.

Agro is Best Horse!

they were so unbelievably real for this

when she shadow my colossus until I dormin

esse jogo mudou a forma como eu vejo jogos, como um jogo consegue ser tão interessante com tão pouco, como um jogo de combate consegue jogar fora a mesmisse de apertar um botão pra bater e criar um sistema inteiramente diferente e ABSURDO em cima disso

eu to maravilhado

Killing monsters is bad 🤓 🤓 🤓

This is how my 4'11 ass fought my 6'6 friend after he called me a 'pipsqueak'.

reminds me of that one time i drank 8 yakult bottles

É incrível como esse jogo conseguiu extrair todo o potencial que o PlayStation 2 poderia ter. O combate contra os colossos é perfeito, você sente a grandeza nas batalhas contra eles, a ambientação e a atmosfera são uma loucura, aquele mundo vazio e sem vida que você vai explorando com o seu cavalo, sem contar a trilha sonora que é simplesmente sensacional! Com certeza é um dos jogos mais lindos e únicos que eu já joguei, tanto visualmente quanto na mensagem e nos questionamentos que ele passa durante a aventura. Uma obra de arte ao pé da letra.

It was a bold choice for team Ico to eschew the image they had established with their previous game (and namesake), Ico, for something so purely action driven. Not that I'm complaining, of course. As a fan of Dark Souls and Monster Hunter, other games equally as focused on creating large and bombastic boss encounters, Shadow of the Colossus hits all the right notes. The ultimate in power fantasy, and a gaming classic.

You play as Wander (cool name), a man who is out for revenge after the death of his girlfriend. Meeting with the mysterious yet benevolent entity Dormin, you form a pact to eradicate the evil Colossi, which will grant Dormin the power to restore your girl to life. Hell yeah.

The game is essentially broken up into a series of contract killings. First you speak to Dormin who explains which Colossi to take on. After that, you get on your steed, Agro -a reference to the term "aggro," which is suitable given the aggression of the Colossi you face - and set out into the open world to find your target. Each Colossi is essentially its own puzzle. Figure out how to mount them, expose their weak point, then kill them. The amount of variety in each encounter keeps the game consistently engaging, as there's no real dungeons to explore or upgrades to be earned. I still think there's room for something like a skill tree, and perhaps Wander could be given more tools to work with. An axe, hammer, or maybe even some kind of mini-cannon would be a lot of fun, but Shadow of the Colossus prefers to keep it simple, with a focus on creating tightly curated combat sequences.

This is the part of the review where I pull out one of my little anecdotes. Everybody loves that, that's why they read Weatherby reviews, it's my whole thing! I was playing this via emulation while working from home a couple years ago. I was in the middle of a fight against the bull Colossus when I realized it was time for my lunch break, so I decided to get up and go grab a Spicy Italian from Subway. When I got home, I found that my computer had totally lost its video signal. Nothing seemed to restore it, so I had to manually power cycle my system, and when it restarted, I was met with an error message saying there was no bootable device. Long story short, I wound up replacing nearly every component of my PC and lost my progress in Shadow of the Colossus. The cost of rebuilding my computer was rough, but having to replay this game from the very beginning? Easy. It's just that good. Give me the list, Dormin. Let me kill again.

I have eliminated 300 million Colossi from the planet today! In human terms, I've killed them all!

Shadow Of The Colossus é o game mais ambicioso do Ps2, o que até assusta, é que ele cumpre a ambição, mesmo estando em um console muito limitado em relação a tal.
A espetacular trilha sonora cria um sentimento épico, enquanto as batalhas são memoráveis e o mundo parece enorme, embora não seja.

This review contains spoilers

Eighteen years on and Shadow of the Colossus remains my platonic ideal of triple-A gaming: it's spectacle-driven but not cinematic, it's broadly appealing but not dumbed down, and, most importantly, it uses its budget not to simply refine or increase the scope of an existing experience, but to deliver an entirely new one. My PS2 audibly groans while running this game, the framerate slows to a crawl if I move the camera around too quickly, and the environmental pop-in is too frequent to ignore, but I don't see these things as technical faults, instead as the signatory of hardware being pushed to its absolute limits in trying to accommodating a game that, on a conceptual level, was unimaginable a single console generation prior. But a great concept means nothing without great execution, so it works out nicely that taking down a colossus is still one of the most satisfying feelings in video games as a whole. Utilizing your rigid movement to maneuver across the back of a creature a thousand times your size, risking letting go for just a moment to preserve your stamina, narrowly avoiding getting shaken off, and then plunging your sword deep into its Achilles heel while that magnificent orchestra plays in the background... unmatched. And yet, at times, what's most impressive to me about Shadow of the Colossus is its restraint. Considering Ico was pretty much restraint incarnate, that statement sounds ironic, but the connotation of your controller's rumble shifting from clinging onto another's hand to clinging onto a gargantuan monster for dear life should tell you that the two have almost nothing in common besides their developer. Ico was a puzzle game where nothing felt like a puzzle, and Shadow of the Colossus is an action game where every encounter feels like it has a clean-cut solution, which is the point. I can imagine that, during development, it was tempting to give every colossus an epic-sounding name and have it appear in big, bold lettering before each fight, to paint them as ultra-powerful gods, to make them capable of arena-clearing attacks. Considering nearly every boss in video game history is crafted with one singular goal in mind- to be intimidating- it's incredibly bold for a game solely composed of boss fights to go in the complete opposite direction. Despite the size advantage it never feels like you're the underdog, but, rather, the inverse- that the colossi don't have the necessary tools to deal with you. Aside from the very last one, they're characterized less like ancient, mythical beings, and more like livestock unaware they're in line to be slaughtered. You could argue that tracking down the colossi in the overworld should be more involved, but I'd contend that having a magical sword point all of them out for you is a good capstone of the unfair advantage you have over them as a whole. Every fight has least one major revelation that's a joy to figure out (who could forget your first time jumping onto number five's wings directly instead of avoiding its swoop, seeing the red eyes of number ten emerge from the sand, or goading number twelve into revealing its underbelly?) but that also reinforces that you're simply above these creatures, that the only shadow they cast over you is in the most literal sense possible. It's a beautiful theme, and it often even makes you question why you're doing what you're doing... which just makes the ending that much more disappointing. Dormin's dialog was already a problem just considering the indefensible mid-battle hints, but he takes it to another level following number sixteen's defeat, and I blame Shadow of the Colossus's (comparatively) high amount of exposition for the fact that Ico better captures my imagination. What's frustrating is that Wander potentially being in the moral wrong is communicated entirely through gameplay, but we're still given a concrete reason as to why he should regret slaying the colossi. Maybe I'm being harsh, but I feel like this was the starting point for the modern trend of chastising the player for their in game actions, of games employing talking skeletons and men in chicken masks to tell you that you should feel bad instead of actually making you feel bad. But to focus on the ending is to take away from a landmark experience, from one of the most evidently great games out there. In a just world we'd see consistent, high-budget releases from game designers with a even a fraction of Ueda's visionary talent, but in our cold reality, gaming can only live in his shadow.

Have you ever wanted to feel guilty for playing a game? Like a cruel pile of garbage?

Cuz I haven't. So I tapped out after murdering 6 or 7 of these beautiful, majestic creatures.

I am so glad I played the PS2 version in all of its gorgeous aesthetic.

Fumito Ueda games are always an aesthetical achievement. The ability to carve emotional landscapes which feel so ethereal is stunning. The overwhelming bloom lighting and vast rolling hills and plains are incredibly immersive, the muted and washed tones of green, brown and gray envelopes the feeling of the game, as this desolate and cold world despite its blinding sheen when you trot along the flowing environment on your horse towards your next Colossi. The world of SOTC is purposely empty, meticulously designed, which further helps to push the feelings of cold illumination, intriguing mystique , two juxtaposing ideas, liminality where there exists nothing but the Colossi. You play as “Wander”, making your way to each Colossus and slowly putting an end to what little life remains including lizards which you also kill because it makes you stronger. As the player we directly contribute to Wanders’ violence even though ultimately Wander makes the decision to kill every Colossi in order to bring back Mono. At the end of the game Wander is forced to face his consequences and it ends up affecting us as the player as well, where we decay into the physical embodiment of Dormin himself, this is the result of Wanders actions on a personal level, was it really worth killing the Colossi? Their shrieking roars which we start to find empathy for. The game deliberately throws nuance to this question adding a moral facet. While the mixed emotions of the colossi and their enigmatic and curious state show that perhaps ending such a monolithic life form is not the right choice, the end of the game shows Mono alongside deers, doves, flora and fauna indicating rebirth and tenderness. Perhaps banishing Dormin tore away his aura over the forbidden lands which brought back warmth and serenity to what was an almost lifeless domain. SOTC is not only about the consequences of your violent actions and the idea of futility but also accepting what can’t be changed.

I don't know what it is around the mysticism that surrounds PS2 games but this was yet another game that my older cousin had back in 2005 and I had to see it get played because I was like 6 years old but the theme that plays when you fight the first colossus made it more epic. The different colossus designs were just terrifying compared to a small human it was amazing seeing Wander defeating these once harmless creatures just to save the girl he loves. Hearing about the cut content that Nomad colossus put on his youtube channel and him getting all these different discs with early builds of the game when Sony was showcasing the game before it came out is interesting and makes me wish the stuff that was cut out was in the actual game the spider colossus and the devil colossus makes me wonder how they would've played it if they didn't get cut. Seeing the interviews from the creator back then saying if he was to remake the game he would try his best to put the cut colossi in the game. I was devastated when i heard about the remake coming on ps4 and they were just keeping the original 16 colossi from the ps2 release and not adding anything else. Plus the ambiguity of the ending makes me think there could've been more but im p sure once they saw the horned child that SotC was a prequel to Ico. The game is beautiful and the fact that it ran well on the ps2 is an amazing feat in video game history


I remember back in 2005/06 my mother bringing home a copy of Shadow of the Colossus, rented from the local Blockbuster. We had it for a week before we were required to hand it back and in that week I totally fell in love with the game. It remains a favourite of mine and its influence on my tastes proved to be pretty formative.

I was never actually able to see the ending on that copy that we rented all those years ago. I think I made it all the way to the last colossi before getting stuck and running out of time. It wouldn't be until years later on different hardware that I would finally finish the game, and so I find it oddly emotional having now taken the time some 15 years later to finish the game on the PS2.

Though I am glad remasters & remakes have allowed more people to experience this work in the time since I still contend that the PS2 is the definitive version, framerate issues & all. Something about the overblown bloom effects and muddy textures lends a kind of ethereal quality to the environments you traverse. Even the shoddy framerate, slowing to a halt during some of the more dynamic colossi battles, creates a sense of scale that I can't help but admire. This many years later, my older more jaded self can't deny there's still a kind of magic in this game that never fails to pull me back to its forbidden lands once more.

One of the first games I've played as a kid that taught me there's more than just shooters and fighting games. Great unique concept.

★★★★ – Excellent ✅

We'll never see a game quite like this again -- a singular artistic vision, given space to breathe, to exist confidently outside of any of the conventions of its day, that's also a first-party big-budget blockbuster that pushes its hardware to the absolute limit.

Shadow of the Colossus brings the PS2 to its knees, and wrenches from it an experience that still rivals any of today's cinematic AAA offerings. (I haven't played the PS3 remaster OR the PS4 remake, yet, but I know that something will feel lost if the framerate isn't crawling to single digits during the game's unparalleled setpieces. You need to feel like the seams of the universe are barely holding; like the colossus' sword crashing down next to you is literally shaking the internals of the hardware you're playing the game on! 5 to 20 fps is fucking canon.).

I could write 10,000 words, but I'm tired, so I'll keep it short. This without-a-doubt deserves its status as one of the greatest games of all time. It's a certain work of art. There is one (1) less-than-phenomenal colossus fight -- sound off in the comments if you can guess which.

Patience is its core game mechanic.

Hail Dormin.

I kind of feel like the atmosphere of the original PS2 game is the game in its ideal form, maybe that's because it's the game in its original state, or maybe not, and although I like the simple combat of the game, for me this is the weakest part of the game, because when you get to the final parts, the game literally shows you how to find a pattern and defeat all the remaining bosses. But still a good game, a great game actually.
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Eu meio que sinto que a atmosfera do jogo PS2 original é o jogo em sua forma ideal, talvez seja porque é o jogo em seu estado original, ou talvez não, e embora eu goste do combate simples do jogo, para mim essa é a parte mais fraca do jogo, porquê quando você chega às partes finais, o jogo mostra literalmente como encontrar um padrão e derrotar todos os chefes restantes. Mas ainda é um bom jogo, um ótimo jogo na verdade.