Artfully hides its linearity and fundamental game-ness by stripping away ornament. The player isn’t told where to go or what to do, and the feeling of anxiety that shadows the illusion of free will remains although there’s only one thing to do, and one way to do it. The process of subtraction extends beyond the game’s mechanics and into its themes and visual language too: that is, the language barrier (who needs dialogue) adds to the feeling of alienation the player feels when experiencing said illusion, and this is set against the bare backdrop of the sublime: the foreboding cliffs and vast landscapes constantly reminding of the relative insignificance of one's struggle for existence. This forced reflection strengthens the game's drive — the feeling of dread when experiencing "the dizziness of freedom" (the push/pull: to jump or not, to turn the system off, etc) becomes insignificant when compared to the responsibility one feels for saving Yorda. Love triumphs, life too.

The game has its issues, its not perfect by any means. But not only is it distinctive in its style and ambitious in what it tries to achieve; the game is almost impressive, comes together really well in the end,.

Positives
1. Atmosphere- the game is mostly ambient sounds, and has a rather dreamlike surreal feeling to it. Almost portraying a fuzzy cruel fever dream in a game world. It evokes a feeling of being lost, dread and really makes you feel the boundless nature of an unbreakable bond and the idea of being spiritually attached to someone. I'll be honest, despite being so minimalistic it works- and the atmosphere is one of a kind; probably the best i've experienced in games so far. and I think it only works because its a ps2 game (or rather due to its 6th gen aesthetic).

2. Characters and Story- There is no real plot to this game. In theory, its one long escort mission- with semi complicated puzzles. But the way its told and manages to express itself is wonderful. The player roots for the characters, as they traverse through an expansive yet alien world, which is unpredictably dangerous at every step and makes them look small and insignificant. I also really like how much subtle yet real the game is with exploring ICO's character. The childlike innocence; and the urge to disregard everything and save Yorda.

Negative
1. The gameplay can be tedious and has not aged well. Had it not been for save states (played this one on an emulator), this game would get really really frustrating and repetitive.

2. Second act is necessary but boring- The ending and the epilogue definitely amplify the overall experience. Especially after the somewhat boring 2nd act, which is very much a rehash.

Overal a solid 8/10

I'd love to give this a higher score because the art and soundtrack are simply phenomenal. Especially the main theme. It's remained stuck in my head ever since I played it.

The game just didn't age well at all. The AI for Yorda is absolutely infuriating and doesn't listen to directions well. I know the people who love this game would say "this is the point. she's not supposed to listen to you". To that, I say "who cares?". It's not fun. Likewise, the simple platforming is often unprecise and the enemy encounters are a button mashing fest.

Again, it's a gorgeous game but the game play does not hold up at all and that's where my opinion about this stems from. I'm sure I'd have a different perspective if I played on release.

What's the bare minimum you need for a game? How little do you truly need to be engaging? How much do you really have to put in front of a player? ICO is a 2001 adventure game that is an exercise in minimalist game design: a game designed around weaving a tale of romance and trust whilst having as little as possible interrupt your experience.

It's a tale as old as time immemorial: boy meets girl. Our lead Ico and the girl he's escorting, Yorda, are trapped in a massive citadel, and cannot communicate with each other due to a language barrier. Despite this, the duo must work together to escape the labyrinthine prison they find themselves in. It's a plot we all know the basic beats to, but what makes it unique is the minimalist way the story is told. On the gameplay front, we play as Ico, who handles the heavy lifting: he climbs chains and cliff-faces, pushes blocks, carries items to-and-fro and engages in combat. While Yorda cannot do any of this, she is needed to help open the magically sealed doors that Ico cannot open by his lonesome. Therefore, each puzzle is designed around creating a path as Ico for Yorda to travel and open the next door up ahead. This gameplay loop builds dependence on Yorda for both Ico and by extension, the player. You will often lead Yorda through each room hand-in-hand, and the little moments and stellar animation work, like Ico helping Yorda climb up tall ledges or extending his hand to catch Yorda as she makes leaps of faith builds trust in both Ico and the player. In turn, Yorda will often wander around environments looking for puzzle solutions, or inviting Ico to rest at a save point. In a game with as sparse a story as Ico's, these little moments do most of the heavy lifting for the player's investment in the plight of the duo.

The atmosphere is the other part of why ICO works so well. Very rarely is any actual music heard, and what little of it there is, it's mostly ambient and drone. Your journey is instead backed by the sounds of howling wind, running water, crackling torches, and Ico and Yorda's footsteps. Lacking a HUD or a UI of any kind outside of the save points and the pause menu, the game is all about the vistas: a camera more interested in big panning shots of the citadel and it's walls, where you are a secondary, if not tertiary concern. You exit the citadel momentarily to see an endless ocean, and the far walls of the rest of the citadel, places you have been and places you will go. It's one big connected odyssey, that fully engrosses you in it's world. When I sat down for my first playthrough, I was so invested I completed the entire game in one sitting.

ICO is a beautiful game that thrives in what it lacks rather that what it has. Its striking minimalism and strong aesthetics tell a story stronger than any normal narrative ever could, purely through it's use of in-game actions and mechanics, and it is an experience you won't regret having.

When we see a great film or finish reading a long novel, we have some words to describe our impressions.

Fumito Ueda's games are very difficult to put into words.
But one thing is for sure. Fumito Ueda's games are more than just action games. I'm hesitant to use the adjective "writer" for video games. But if it were allowed, Fumito Ueda would certainly be one of them.

I would like to write about what's in the game, but I don't seem to have the ability to do so. I'm sorry. Rather, I hesitate to even give it a score.

Oh, but I think the package illustration on the left is the worst. (How did this happen? lol)

A simple yet immensely effective masterpiece. Its spiritual successor gets a lot more love and praise, and for some good reasons, but there's always been something about Ico that elevates it above others for me personally.

The amazingly realistic character animations were enthralling back in the day, and in retrospect they have become even more impressive. How this was managed on the PS2 back in 2001 is beyond me. The subtle effectiveness of the two main characters speaking different languages and being forced to communicate through said animations just emphasizes how amazing they really are. The fact that Yorda's gibberish speech is not translated in the subtitles drives home for the player the otherworldliness of the situation that Ico has found himself in. Even the clunky controls that people so often complain about, are themselves a storytelling mechanic. Ico is a scrawny 12 year old boy, with no formal training at all. So of course when he picks up a large hunk of wood and starts frantically swinging it to defend himself and his new companion, it's going to feel awkward. Of course he's going to throw himself off balance. Is it frustrating from a gameplay perspective? Sure. But if Ico's atmosphere can successfully draw you in, this frustration becomes a vehicle of immersion rather than a product of bad game design.

Everything about this game is a masterclass in subtle storytelling. I can't say enough good things about it. But goddamn that NA cover art is atrocious.

Um jogo contemplativo com uma direção de arte fenomenal, atmosfera única, OST maravilhosa, narrativa metafórica com uma carga emocional muito boa e um final lindo, mas apesar dos elogios, ICO tem suas falhas.
Seu gameplay é muito prejudicado pela falta de responsividade dos controles, que são lentos e travados, o que torna as sessões de plataforma frustrantes, além disso, a hit box é zoada e muitas vezes ICO não alcança locais que normalmente conseguiria. Os puzzle são bem variados e se utilizam bem do level design e da ambientação, contudo, caem na mesmice por se estruturarem de forma muito similar, quase sempre envolvendo mover blocos e subir escadas/correntes.
No fim, se tornou uma experiência monótona e irritante por conta desses problemas em seu gameplay, fiquei cansado do jogo, mesmo sendo curto, mas valorizo bastante sua ambição, é um Adventure Game único pra aquela época e um marco pra indústria.