AI in video games exists to be predictable. Whether it is or isn’t on your side, its actions on first engagement have to be for the player to enact their intended objective in an area or level, and in the case of a companion, it’s all of their actions. Any unpredictability would only take place after its action is made clear, where the AI might consider any number of options that bounce off the game’s systems to follow up on their state inflicted by the player, but similar systems can also be used to better realize this AI as a character in their setting before any engagement. Trico ticks all the boxes, the difference is unpredictability’s been introduced into their initial response to the player.
And it’s not in the way that Trico will ignore what you tell them to do, but that the response is not instant. There’s no list of specific commands you can give to the beast, you can’t directly take control of it, and it won’t teleport to you if you’re too far. You can point to where you want it to go and call out if you want it to come to you. What this can promote in the dense setting of the Nest is situations that can make it hard for Trico to know exactly what you want, jumping ruined column to ruined column over a quiet fog is no problem, but getting on that first column might be. Chances are it was on the player for not positioning themselves clearly enough for Trico to see and hear, but sometimes it can be the creature’s fault. Every bit of gameplay alongside it becomes more than a choice to execute, it’s a moment for you and Trico to learn from, and this takes a unique weight off when you can get past an obstacle because you know you both worked through it together.
What starts as two creatures functioning on survival instinct becomes mutual understanding that codependence would be necessary for this survival, and eventually, a connection that’s so much more. Trico needs you to feed it barrels, to take spears out of its body and tend to the wounds, to take out stained glass eyes it’s afraid of and you need Trico to fight off the Nest’s guards, to climb and jump to places you’re too small to reach, and to dive deep to where you’re not able to swim. Interactions like these teem throughout the game on a micro and macro level, but there come to be gestures of affection like certain spots you can pet eliciting more endeared reactions, which in turn becomes less required as Trico starts to calm down quicker from your presence alone, or Trico perching up against where you went waiting for you to come back. It all forms a bond so deep that it’s motivating beyond the dissonant nature of the checkpoint and failstate to keep going, to avoid death lest my big feathery buddy be left behind.
From the boy’s perspective, it’s certainly the most minimalist amount of interaction a player’s had with the world of a Team Ico game. Puzzles are so abstracted that solutions more often come down to observations around the room or in timing than unique engine interactions and the little occasional engagement with combat you have is pointing to where you want Trico to shoot lightning. Of course, this props up the importance of the beast but it also makes the Nest that much more convincing as ruins reclaimed by nature’s elements as well as your place in it with other inhabitants. Previously Ico would have to concede to more gamey puzzle objects and Shadow of the Colossus plopped a HUD on the screen for health and stamina. Advancements in a purer gameplay direction are welcome, but what opposes it is the blatant handholding through tooltips for what seems like every button interaction right when you might’ve forgotten about them and narrated hints if you’ve been on a puzzle for too long. A regression from the expressive nature the team’s previous works lead you to solutions with but it’s fair enough for this one considering it’s by far their longest.
Ultimately, Team Ico, genDESIGN, whatever, their games are about relationships. Relationships that can be rife with conflict yet continue, but also that these relationships may form with a person or being you might not have expected. Whether your actions are to look after yourself or out of sympathy, it becomes an experience as invaluable and life defining as any other for the player’s character, if not more. Time and time again The Last Guardian delivers on these ideas in the story it seeks to tell and through its mechanics and systems that flourish by themselves, with enough care that it reframes the entire concept of AI and companions in the medium. Knowing the challenge of executing this game’s goal and “development hell” where release was only prolonged from Sony’s decision to move it to the PS4 from the PS3’s arcane architecture potentially warding off devs, it’s tough to tell if this will end up as influential as its predecessors. But that only stands to make it all the more special. I’ll miss you, Trico.
And it’s not in the way that Trico will ignore what you tell them to do, but that the response is not instant. There’s no list of specific commands you can give to the beast, you can’t directly take control of it, and it won’t teleport to you if you’re too far. You can point to where you want it to go and call out if you want it to come to you. What this can promote in the dense setting of the Nest is situations that can make it hard for Trico to know exactly what you want, jumping ruined column to ruined column over a quiet fog is no problem, but getting on that first column might be. Chances are it was on the player for not positioning themselves clearly enough for Trico to see and hear, but sometimes it can be the creature’s fault. Every bit of gameplay alongside it becomes more than a choice to execute, it’s a moment for you and Trico to learn from, and this takes a unique weight off when you can get past an obstacle because you know you both worked through it together.
What starts as two creatures functioning on survival instinct becomes mutual understanding that codependence would be necessary for this survival, and eventually, a connection that’s so much more. Trico needs you to feed it barrels, to take spears out of its body and tend to the wounds, to take out stained glass eyes it’s afraid of and you need Trico to fight off the Nest’s guards, to climb and jump to places you’re too small to reach, and to dive deep to where you’re not able to swim. Interactions like these teem throughout the game on a micro and macro level, but there come to be gestures of affection like certain spots you can pet eliciting more endeared reactions, which in turn becomes less required as Trico starts to calm down quicker from your presence alone, or Trico perching up against where you went waiting for you to come back. It all forms a bond so deep that it’s motivating beyond the dissonant nature of the checkpoint and failstate to keep going, to avoid death lest my big feathery buddy be left behind.
From the boy’s perspective, it’s certainly the most minimalist amount of interaction a player’s had with the world of a Team Ico game. Puzzles are so abstracted that solutions more often come down to observations around the room or in timing than unique engine interactions and the little occasional engagement with combat you have is pointing to where you want Trico to shoot lightning. Of course, this props up the importance of the beast but it also makes the Nest that much more convincing as ruins reclaimed by nature’s elements as well as your place in it with other inhabitants. Previously Ico would have to concede to more gamey puzzle objects and Shadow of the Colossus plopped a HUD on the screen for health and stamina. Advancements in a purer gameplay direction are welcome, but what opposes it is the blatant handholding through tooltips for what seems like every button interaction right when you might’ve forgotten about them and narrated hints if you’ve been on a puzzle for too long. A regression from the expressive nature the team’s previous works lead you to solutions with but it’s fair enough for this one considering it’s by far their longest.
Ultimately, Team Ico, genDESIGN, whatever, their games are about relationships. Relationships that can be rife with conflict yet continue, but also that these relationships may form with a person or being you might not have expected. Whether your actions are to look after yourself or out of sympathy, it becomes an experience as invaluable and life defining as any other for the player’s character, if not more. Time and time again The Last Guardian delivers on these ideas in the story it seeks to tell and through its mechanics and systems that flourish by themselves, with enough care that it reframes the entire concept of AI and companions in the medium. Knowing the challenge of executing this game’s goal and “development hell” where release was only prolonged from Sony’s decision to move it to the PS4 from the PS3’s arcane architecture potentially warding off devs, it’s tough to tell if this will end up as influential as its predecessors. But that only stands to make it all the more special. I’ll miss you, Trico.