
shadow of the colossus
The Boss is the Dungeon

The Boss is the Dungeon
December 20, 2023
Original 2005 PS2 version
When you find yourself talking about massive bosses you must climb on to slay, there’s one game that’s top of mind: Shadow of the Colossus. It’s Team Ico’s singularly creative and lovingly crafted third person, 3D action platformer from the PS2 era. It combines skill based climbing challenges with traversal puzzles to take down gigantic enemies in one-on-one combat. It’s a game that people still talk about. So, how does it stack up since its original 2005 release and is it a must play?
why do this?
You know this game. What more could be said? While the boss sequences are the main attraction and succeed as high points for the game, aspects outside the boss arena are rarely covered with any detail. As someone who was interested in the game years after its release, but also wanting to avoid spoiling myself, I feel I went in mostly blind. In my case, I knew the monsters look cool, they’re really big, and people are still talking about it positively twenty years later. That’s it. I didn’t even have a PlayStation growing up so my nostalgia factor here is zero.
Also, there are so many great games. More than you can get to in a lifetime. Pong was a groundbreaking cultural phenomenon; you don’t need to play it. Basically, I want to offer a more complete and spoiler-free picture for those wondering if this well regarded game is worth a playthrough today.
TL;DR
First off, let’s be clear, the game accomplishes the main thing people want— you see a big ol’ beast on the promo art and you get to be the one to take it down by climbing on them. The premise feels fresh and satisfying. The creature designs are compelling. The game delivers on that and it’s awesome. Not every time, but I would say through my twelve hour playthrough, it was true most of the time. However, that is the extent of the game’s offering (details below). Knowing this is enough; it is not a must play, in my opinion.
Second is a practical consideration: it was and remains a Sony exclusive. Another obstacle if you don’t have a PlayStation.
Aside from that, Team Ico did an excellent job creating a seamless, cinematic-looking experience in 2005. Still undecided? Read on to see if this experience is for you.

premise
You’re a man from some imagined ancient culture. The game sets up your first quest in an enormous stone temple, the game’s hub. There’s only one type of quest, kill the big thing. You got a horse, a bow, and a sword that doubles as a wayfinder pointing you to the next colossi to defeat. There is no character progression in items or abilities; there are no NPCs to talk to. The world, though picturesque, is empty. You are free to travel across it as you please, but the boss order is linear.
The Loop
Outside of the story, the game succeeds at maintaining focus and momentum on the boss encounters, mostly because there’s nothing else to do (Aside from collectables; they’re not worth it. Skip them; you miss nothing. Seriously. Despite completing the game I didn’t even know this game had collectibles). Each of the sixteen boss encounters follow the same pattern: get a quest from the temple, ride across the land to discover the next boss (some mild platforming may be required), battle the boss, get auto-warped back to the temple, watch a cut scene, and get the next boss to track from an unseen god in the sky.

Style & Story
The presentation style is very cinematic, something that a sector of games were striving to be at the time (such as Uncharted: Drake's Fortune (2007) or Peter Jackson's King Kong (2005)). And it was becoming more common as technology improved and the industry grew. Cut scenes are well directed and have some inspired camera work. The 2018 remake benefits the most with its significant graphical upgrade in the deft hands of Bluepoint Games. On story: there is one. I would call it serviceable. The tone and pacing are slow and deliberate— thematically in line with the visual style; they're going for epic here. I don’t mean slow as a bad thing per se. Kurosawa films are slow; they’re great, but slow. If that’s a negative for you, you’ll be glad to learn the story is almost entirely contained in the game’s opening and ending.
The characters serve as archetypes, not people. And not much happens, so there’s no narrative weight for the cinematic visuals to bolster. The music swells, the sun breaks the clouds, and… aaaand… oh, that guy got the thing. Good for them.
A twist at the end finally injects some life into the story, but as I don’t care about the characters or their problems, it fails to leave an impression. That’s fine, it’s not deeply important to me that Mario reunites with Princess Peach. But in this case, the dissonance between the presentation and the story is worth mentioning.
The bigger they are...
Squaring off with a colossus is the best part of the game. Certainly the one that requires the most player involvement. It can feel imposing; you are no match for these titans in head to head combat. You must use your small size to your advantage. The set up makes victory all the more rewarding. Each boss is unique in its design and for the most part, their arenas are as well. Every battle follows the same pattern, which can be broken down into a series of phases. Each phase is automatically triggered as you progress through them. To win, you must get close enough to start climbing the colossus, hang on as it tries to shake you off, and stab its weak spots. After defeating a couple, I locked in on the pattern.
This is not a Devil May Cry hack and slash affair. Most of the colossi slowly stomp around the arena, somewhat aimlessly at times. You can simply outrun most of them and starting a climb can be as easy as walking up and grabbing an ankle. Some, however, move faster. Some fly or swim. And still others may not appear to have a way to climb at first. Victory comes in player patience, recognizing enemy patterns, learning how to best position yourself, finding a weak spot, and knowing when to strike. Timing is also important during a climb because you can’t hold on forever. You have a generous strength meter that slowly depletes as long as you're gripping or climbing.
In my experience, the battles don’t really accommodate variety to progress through the phases; you have freedom of movement, but broadly speaking there’s really only one way forward. The game does a good job of visually telegraphing how to progress with clues in the environment or enemy behavior and the player is meant to follow those clues to succeed. Your unseen god may also offer clues that appear as subtitles. Sometimes it's obvious and you don't need the clues.
I felt these hints were well communicated in almost every instance. I will admit there was at least a moment or two in which I had no idea what was expected of me. While this initially elevates tension in a positive way, if it resulted in death cycles, it soon grew tedious. Death means restarting the encounter from the start of the arena. If you’re struggling, the slow and deliberate pace of the fights and cutscenes begins to take its toll. Thankfully, these moments were limited to only a few battles and isolated considering my overall experience.
What’s impressive to me is even though your options are quite limited in these battles, the premise feels so novel that small changes keep the game feeling fun. Climb a giant leg, now an arm, now a bird, etc. Some engagements are better than others and as I move through them, eventually I start to notice diminishing returns.
Gameplay & Controls
The game really leans into its cinematic feel and the character animations are consistent with this. Your movement animations are intricate and wonderfully expressive at times. However, in some cases the player must learn to time their button inputs appropriately as pressing a button will not interrupt these animations. If you’re old like me, think NES Prince of Persia. You have to be a lot more deliberate with your button presses and timing. This means that while movement may look fluid on screen, the downside is the controls feel rigid to play. It doesn’t change; it’s consistent throughout. So you either get used to it, or you don’t. Players may feel the game is not responsive or inconsistent if they’ve never played a game with controls like this before. It is a skill the player must intuit and learn entirely on their own. Credit where credit is due, the game does a great job devoting space in beginning areas for players to practice traversal before ramping up the difficulty.
For what it’s worth, I can see the thinking in this decision. I get it, you’re not Spiderman. You’re getting tossed around and hanging on for dear life; players shouldn’t be able to just keep climbing. It should feel like a struggle. That’s the intent, right? Well, from a mechanical perspective, holding on is not a shining example of player engagement. All you do is hold the climb button and wait for the giant to chill out. There’s nothing more you can do. This means players are left holding a button, a button you were holding anyway to climb. You’re waiting. I don’t know, man. Watching the strength meter slowly deplete while getting tossed around feels like a missed opportunity to me. Though its intent may have been to raise tension, I wouldn't call it an inspired solution. Most of the time it’s not tense and it’s not engaging. You’re just waiting— the opposite of fun. Now in truth, I’d rather hold a button than waggle a joystick, but more interesting possibilities were left unexplored, I suppose. To my mind, the decision reaffirms that players are only allowed a very limited amount of agency in this world by design. For such an expansive world, there’s not anything of purpose to do here except ride your horse to slay the next colossus. Do it this way. Play the part as instructed. That may be all you’re looking for in this game and that’s totally valid; but that's all you're going to get.
Some final notes on controls, players must manage the camera, which some may interpret as more of a wrestling match— a product of its time in that regard. Your patience for this will play a large part in your enjoyment. It tends not to bother me, but newer players may not tolerate this. If you’re familiar with this from other games or are a patient player, you’ll be fine. As an aside, designing a camera for this game must have presented a unique set of challenges for its time. The results are worthy of praise, all things considered.
One final bright spot: skilled bow accuracy is not required to use it effectively. You can probably guess as to why. Personally, I find shooting a bow with a controller the pits in most games, so this was a welcome relief.

Takeaways & Final Thoughts
Over the course of the game it occurs to me that at some point I started feeling bad after killing a colossus. Their appearance, though menacing, is beautiful in a way. I found it to be so, at least. To watch something of such size and majesty crumple to a motionless heap felt like I just stabbed an elephant in the heart. It made me feel like an ignorant, selfish, brute only concerned with how the world can serve my own immediate needs regardless of the broader consequences. I was the one who sought them out to claim their life without provocation. What had they ever done to me? Do they even harbor malice toward me? Or are they simply defending themselves?
Is their destruction in the name of love a triumph of human will? Or a despicable failure to see their place in the universe?
Dunno. I’m not sure these are the intended takeaways. And the ambiguity doesn’t inspire intrigue given the amount of story we’re provided in the empty world they made.
Regardless, the game succeeds at its core concept: players get to take down massive, imposing enemies in a new interesting way. There were just no games quite like this at the time. You come away feeling like you beat the odds, if somewhat paint by number. Ultimately, the main idea is strong and visually appealing; there's a solid foundation here. For me, the game only delivers on its promise of fun in the boss encounters and even that barely lasts through the game.
Though the unique concept is undeniably singular and creative, for me the game is not a full meal. You’re free to roam, there’s just nothing to do. I admire the discipline and clear-eyed execution of their vision, but the overall experience would benefit from making more room for the player. Give depth to the characters so we can relate to them. Encourage exploration. Give us more engagement than holding one button. There’s so little room for me to get invested that it never happened.
While the game is wise enough not to overstay its welcome, is it still worth playing? If you do, play the 2018 remake if you can. If you’re still undecided, I’d say watching the opening through the first battle is enough. Would I play it again? Personally, I doubt it. There’s just more to do out there.
About
Hyper Gaiden is where I collect thoughts about the games I play. The approach is qualitative and unmotivated by clicks. I like to focus on what players can expect to be doing moment to moment and how that feels. Simply, I love engaging, immersive experiences and wanted more space to talk about them just as you would with a friend.
Based in the PNW. Message for further inquiry, requests, or drop a friendly note at: hypergaiden@protonmail.com
