Official Thread The Last Guardian
- Thread starter Andy
- Start date
Quoted from Andy.
"just saw the Kinda Funny video where Yosh is talking about TLG. He says that they couldn't get the framerate good and other visual features running on PS3. He said they were faced with a choice of either issuing a PS3 version with a "compromised vision" or transferring it to a PS4 project."
Here is Team ICO
"Making the game on PS3 was super difficult so basically we gave up."
"We couldn't achieve that [vision] on the PS3."
QB does have disappointing Metacritic score. 77% on X1, & 66% on PC. If it is highly acclaimed & PS4 fanboys still said it sucks, then we have a case of bias.
I am sure its a decent game, but its does not get critical acclaimed score & if many are honest, people are expecting more, consider it one of the most hype exclusive game
At least it isn't coming with standard and premium characters.
Yeah, if TLG averages in the 70s, I'm sure it'll be considered a (score) disappointment as well. The other area of "disappointment" people reference is sales. On that subject, I don't expect TLG to sell particularly well. I'm not sure how Ico and SotC sold, but I'm imagining they didn't exactly burn up the charts. They are unusual games, without the violence and action that most gamers thrive on.
If TLG, (I assumed it the last Guardian) is in 70s, & have poor sales. I will call it a flop. Considering it took so long. We will see.
I expect some people to call its sales a disappointment regardless as ICO and SOTC weren't massive hits
Oh yeah, I'm sure that some uninformed people will say that. But the game's sales ought to be judged against how Ico and SotC performed. I'm sure Sony's expectations are in that ballpark. I assume they have already swallowed the fact that they are taking a financial hit on this project. Spending all this time on the game, then having it sell at Ico/SotC levels -- that's got to be a loss, overall. Then again, that's one of the things I like about Sony. It's not all about the money. Sometimes it's about the game (except when it's Shenmue -- then it's Kickstarter that b*tch).
I say stick with Tradition! In order to maintain the expectation, video game culture, and lore, I demand the game remain in a state of Perpetual Delay!
What would an E3 be without the spectre of The Last Guardian hanging over the proceedings?! Will it release? Will it delay? HAS IT BEEN CANCELED!!? NO! The Last Guardian lives on in our hearts and our minds!!!! How will we go on once this mighty bubble pops!?
What would an E3 be without the spectre of The Last Guardian hanging over the proceedings?! Will it release? Will it delay? HAS IT BEEN CANCELED!!? NO! The Last Guardian lives on in our hearts and our minds!!!! How will we go on once this mighty bubble pops!?
THE LAST GUARDIAN: THE SHOCKING TRUTH ABOUT TRICO - IGN FIRST
http://www.ign.com/articles/2016/05/27/the-last-guardian-the-shocking-truth-about-trico-ign-first
We’ve played this near-mythical game. Our impressions.
http://www.ign.com/articles/2016/05/27/the-last-guardian-the-shocking-truth-about-trico-ign-first
We’ve played this near-mythical game. Our impressions.
Shafts of bright sunshine from high above pierce through the darkness, casting dappled light on the hulking chains that curl about the floor of the cave. Butterflies flitter above them, oblivious to the enormous animal the chain snakes towards, and the harness around its neck. The creature is lying still, wounded; two spears jut out from vermillion-stained feathers.
It’s not dead, however, and as I tentatively move toward it, the beast rears its head and grows agitated, snapping at me if I approach from the front and casting about to keep me in view if I approach from the side. It’s clearly in pain, however, and I decide to take a chance and climb onto its hindquarters, to where a spear is lodged, just below what appears to be broken armour plating on its back.
I pull and pull, eventually tugging it free. The creature howls in pain, then lashes out, catching me with a talon, and sending me flying into the wall of the cave. I pass out.
This may sting a little.
These are the opening moments of The Last Guardian. Much like Ico, Fumito Ueda’s seminal PS2 game, you play as a small boy, paired with a mysterious being – a companion, but in many ways unknowable. In this instance, it is a towering chimera: part bird, part dog, part who knows what.
You’ve awoken in a cave, with no recollection of how you got there and strange markings on your arms. The “man-eating beast” - Trico - lies nearby, in pain and unable to stand, a heavy collar around its neck and armour-plating across its forehead and down its back. With no way to escape, and feeling sympathy for the creature – despite its formidable size and reputation – you set out to help it.
Softly, softly.
Trust is one of the key themes of The Last Guardian, and this intimate sequence is centred firmly on the beginnings of the relationship between the boy and the beast. Trico will never be entirely tamed, but in these moments he’s as wild to the boy as he ever will be, and it’s up to you to work out how to help him.
Trust is one of the key themes of The Last Guardian.
Well, kind of. The Last Guardian’s story is framed by an enjoyably sonorous narration – the player character recounting events as an older man - so we get overt hints about what to do next. That’s not a bad thing, as the mechanics of gaining Trico’s trust are certainly less interesting than seeing how the pair interact; the emergent moments that really show off just how believable Trico is as an animal, and just how gloriously observed his animations are.
There’s a reason the opening sequence is set in a cave – the setting, along with the narration, keeps the focus on the two central characters. It means you’ll pay attention to how Trico responds as you tend to his wounds and satiate his hunger. You’ll get a better sense of his size and bearing when he’s able to stand to his full height. And you’ll start to see his personality when he scratches his ear, nuzzles up to you or dashes madly between rooms when you call him.
It also means that when you do eventually step out into the wider world, the sense of scale is all the more impressive.
Trico is a hugely ambitious creation.
This opening sequence is much as I imagined it might be: gaining Trico’s trust, tossing barrels of food for him to eat, tending to his wounds and working together to reach a previously inaccessible ledge. Once I crawl through the small opening atop the ledge and work my way down a rocky passage, however, The Last Guardian throws in a massive curve ball.
I find myself in what could almost be a primitive temple: a large circular room with a high domed ceiling, a shallow pool of water in the centre and ethereal blue lighting. It’s here that I discover a mirror made of a mysterious substance, and when I re-emerge, Trico’s eyes react to it, dilating and flashing through different colours. I’ve started to understand that his eye colour is a reflection of his emotional state – red, for instance, meaning anger or wariness – so this is clearly an object of significance.
You can see the mirror device on the boy's back.
I hold the mirror out, focusing the green beam that shoots forth on a blockage up ahead, and red lightning explodes from Trico’s tail, striking the boulders and shattering them.
Red lightning explodes from Trico’s tail, striking the boulders and shattering them.
Well then, that was unexpected.
In this moment everything I thought I knew about The Last Guardian is re-arranged.
The battle armour, the wounds – I’d assumed a grim past for Trico, but is he actually a weapon that the holder of the mirror wields? Is this the reason for his fearsome reputation? After all, the legend of the beast my character has heard “many times from the elder” seems at odds with what I know of him. Up to this point he has been quite timid, with hints of playfulness.
Not so playful now.
It also fundamentally changes our relationship; the coaxing and calling that has characterised our interactions to this point replaced by a command I can directly give that Trico will unquestioningly obey. It’s a stark shift, and I’m not too sure how I feel about inheriting this power – even if I am just using it to clear the path ahead.
The introduction of the mirror so early in the game, of course, is very deliberate. It is designed to reveal the power and potential violence of Trico and to change how the player sees their companion. It is a storytelling and world-building choice, as opposed to being driven by game design, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it stripped from the player for much of The Last Guardian.
Moving forward over the rubble, we venture along dark rocky paths which eventually open into a spectacular space: we’re perched on a landing high up in an enormous cave, with an underground lake below, and a waterfall dropping beside a grassy glade illuminated by bright sunlight off on the far wall.
A new space revealed.
There’s no way but down, and I dive into the water, then turn to call Trico. He leans forward as if to jump, talons gripping the cliff edge, but won’t take the plunge.
"Here Fuzzball!"
I think back to last year’s E3 demo, during which the boy jumped on the spot to tell Trico to leap across a chasm, so I attempt to show him what to do, by climbing back up the cliff and clambering up him. Turns out he doesn’t want me trying to leap from his head and I fall. At the last second he catches me by the scruff of the neck. It’s every bit as cool as you think it might be.
He drops me into the water for good measure.
Thankfully the boy can swim.
I obviously don’t have enough of a bond with Trico yet to act out what I want him to do, so I explore. I use his mysterious power to destroy a section of wooden scaffolding blocking access to another area, and eventually lure him into the water using barrels of food.
Seeing a creature this size leaping into an underground lake is genuinely thrilling, as is holding on tight as we climb our way out of the cavernous space and into a new passage.
The only way to climb.
Before long we reach the end of the path, and the boy goes to squeeze through a crevice in the rock wall, into the sunshine beyond. Before he does, however, he turns back to say goodbye, a wave of tenderness and sadness passing across his face.
He thinks they’re parting company, but as he emerges into the open air, Trico scrabbles through a gap high up in the rock wall to follow him. United again, we walk to the cliff edge and look out on the vast ruins. Directly ahead, an impossibly large tower looms over us, and arcane symbols hang in the air. Trico rears back onto his hind legs, distressed, and howls.
It's going to be okay. I hope.
The vista is truly intimidating and I’m glad Trico is by my side. He may just be the only thing I can rely on in this unknowable place.
It’s not dead, however, and as I tentatively move toward it, the beast rears its head and grows agitated, snapping at me if I approach from the front and casting about to keep me in view if I approach from the side. It’s clearly in pain, however, and I decide to take a chance and climb onto its hindquarters, to where a spear is lodged, just below what appears to be broken armour plating on its back.
I pull and pull, eventually tugging it free. The creature howls in pain, then lashes out, catching me with a talon, and sending me flying into the wall of the cave. I pass out.
This may sting a little.
These are the opening moments of The Last Guardian. Much like Ico, Fumito Ueda’s seminal PS2 game, you play as a small boy, paired with a mysterious being – a companion, but in many ways unknowable. In this instance, it is a towering chimera: part bird, part dog, part who knows what.
You’ve awoken in a cave, with no recollection of how you got there and strange markings on your arms. The “man-eating beast” - Trico - lies nearby, in pain and unable to stand, a heavy collar around its neck and armour-plating across its forehead and down its back. With no way to escape, and feeling sympathy for the creature – despite its formidable size and reputation – you set out to help it.
Softly, softly.
Trust is one of the key themes of The Last Guardian, and this intimate sequence is centred firmly on the beginnings of the relationship between the boy and the beast. Trico will never be entirely tamed, but in these moments he’s as wild to the boy as he ever will be, and it’s up to you to work out how to help him.
Trust is one of the key themes of The Last Guardian.
Well, kind of. The Last Guardian’s story is framed by an enjoyably sonorous narration – the player character recounting events as an older man - so we get overt hints about what to do next. That’s not a bad thing, as the mechanics of gaining Trico’s trust are certainly less interesting than seeing how the pair interact; the emergent moments that really show off just how believable Trico is as an animal, and just how gloriously observed his animations are.
There’s a reason the opening sequence is set in a cave – the setting, along with the narration, keeps the focus on the two central characters. It means you’ll pay attention to how Trico responds as you tend to his wounds and satiate his hunger. You’ll get a better sense of his size and bearing when he’s able to stand to his full height. And you’ll start to see his personality when he scratches his ear, nuzzles up to you or dashes madly between rooms when you call him.
It also means that when you do eventually step out into the wider world, the sense of scale is all the more impressive.
Trico is a hugely ambitious creation.
This opening sequence is much as I imagined it might be: gaining Trico’s trust, tossing barrels of food for him to eat, tending to his wounds and working together to reach a previously inaccessible ledge. Once I crawl through the small opening atop the ledge and work my way down a rocky passage, however, The Last Guardian throws in a massive curve ball.
I find myself in what could almost be a primitive temple: a large circular room with a high domed ceiling, a shallow pool of water in the centre and ethereal blue lighting. It’s here that I discover a mirror made of a mysterious substance, and when I re-emerge, Trico’s eyes react to it, dilating and flashing through different colours. I’ve started to understand that his eye colour is a reflection of his emotional state – red, for instance, meaning anger or wariness – so this is clearly an object of significance.
You can see the mirror device on the boy's back.
I hold the mirror out, focusing the green beam that shoots forth on a blockage up ahead, and red lightning explodes from Trico’s tail, striking the boulders and shattering them.
Red lightning explodes from Trico’s tail, striking the boulders and shattering them.
Well then, that was unexpected.
In this moment everything I thought I knew about The Last Guardian is re-arranged.
The battle armour, the wounds – I’d assumed a grim past for Trico, but is he actually a weapon that the holder of the mirror wields? Is this the reason for his fearsome reputation? After all, the legend of the beast my character has heard “many times from the elder” seems at odds with what I know of him. Up to this point he has been quite timid, with hints of playfulness.
Not so playful now.
It also fundamentally changes our relationship; the coaxing and calling that has characterised our interactions to this point replaced by a command I can directly give that Trico will unquestioningly obey. It’s a stark shift, and I’m not too sure how I feel about inheriting this power – even if I am just using it to clear the path ahead.
The introduction of the mirror so early in the game, of course, is very deliberate. It is designed to reveal the power and potential violence of Trico and to change how the player sees their companion. It is a storytelling and world-building choice, as opposed to being driven by game design, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it stripped from the player for much of The Last Guardian.
Moving forward over the rubble, we venture along dark rocky paths which eventually open into a spectacular space: we’re perched on a landing high up in an enormous cave, with an underground lake below, and a waterfall dropping beside a grassy glade illuminated by bright sunlight off on the far wall.
A new space revealed.
There’s no way but down, and I dive into the water, then turn to call Trico. He leans forward as if to jump, talons gripping the cliff edge, but won’t take the plunge.
"Here Fuzzball!"
I think back to last year’s E3 demo, during which the boy jumped on the spot to tell Trico to leap across a chasm, so I attempt to show him what to do, by climbing back up the cliff and clambering up him. Turns out he doesn’t want me trying to leap from his head and I fall. At the last second he catches me by the scruff of the neck. It’s every bit as cool as you think it might be.
He drops me into the water for good measure.
Thankfully the boy can swim.
I obviously don’t have enough of a bond with Trico yet to act out what I want him to do, so I explore. I use his mysterious power to destroy a section of wooden scaffolding blocking access to another area, and eventually lure him into the water using barrels of food.
Seeing a creature this size leaping into an underground lake is genuinely thrilling, as is holding on tight as we climb our way out of the cavernous space and into a new passage.
The only way to climb.
Before long we reach the end of the path, and the boy goes to squeeze through a crevice in the rock wall, into the sunshine beyond. Before he does, however, he turns back to say goodbye, a wave of tenderness and sadness passing across his face.
He thinks they’re parting company, but as he emerges into the open air, Trico scrabbles through a gap high up in the rock wall to follow him. United again, we walk to the cliff edge and look out on the vast ruins. Directly ahead, an impossibly large tower looms over us, and arcane symbols hang in the air. Trico rears back onto his hind legs, distressed, and howls.
It's going to be okay. I hope.
The vista is truly intimidating and I’m glad Trico is by my side. He may just be the only thing I can rely on in this unknowable place.
Last edited by a moderator:
Yeeesh, that's quite the fluff piece. I don't care for this style of preview. I'd rather a more technical impression in the sense of mechanics, visuals, sound, etc. Impressions. Not happy with the weighted feel of this. I don't want to experience it through words. Makes it feel bought to me. I guess they are practicing for their creative writing exam?
So we finally got a release date for The Last Guardian. I can't wait for it personally. Artistic games are my thing and this has been in development for how long now? Two generations almost. I think it will be worth the wait.
The original trailer showed a bird covered in dense, highly detailed feathers. It shouldn't bee surprising that the PS3 could never handle this and run as a full fledged game at the same time.
My guess is that they started out targeting the PS3, but somewhere along the way, Sony execs decided it was better to target the PS4. The goals for the game then shifted. At that point, it was perfectly accurate to say "the PS3 can't handle it." Although the PS3 could handle the initial vision, it just couldn't handle the one that evolved over time.
http://www.gamespot.com/articles/the-last-guardian-has-the-makings-of-a-bittersweet/1100-6440920/
me in a few months when it dies
me in a few months when it dies
http://www.eurogamer.net/articles/2016-06-15-the-last-guardian-the-first-40-minutes
Or cry for the wrong reasons...
Or cry for the wrong reasons...
https://www.vg247.com/2016/06/22/hands-on-with-the-last-guardian-ps4/
Hands-on with The Last Guardian: this is not the game you thought it would be
Spoilers.
The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons.
The closed doors (of behind-closed-doors fame) at the back of the SCEE media lounge at E3 last week contained a playable demo of The Last Guardian. I couldn’t believe it. (“We’re really going to play?” “Apparently, yeah.”) Only four members of the press were allowed into these hour-long sessions at once. Sony gave us hands-on with the first 40 minutes, and I need to say something now: this is not the game I thought it would be.
“It’s like a PS3 remake” was heard many times later that day, and no one had to ask as to the topic of discussion. I mean, it looks old. Given the difficult history associated with this project it’s hardly surprising the tech may not live up to initial reveals – Final Fantasy XV shared this problem at E3 – but given the levels of anticipation surrounding Fumito Ueda’s third Sony game, it seemed immediately obviously to me that many are going to be shocked. The textures seemed flat and, considering we’re talking about a single-player game in an enclosed environment here, the lighting and particle effects appeared positively prehistoric.
This is not any old video game, however. Most of the legions of PlayStation gamers who’ve been hanging onto their seats with every bump of The Last Guardian’s development will likely forgive a great deal. From what I played, they may have to.
I started as the boy in a stone room with the creature, Trico, chained to the floor by its neck. Injured by two spears sticking from its side, the grumpy monster knocked the child unconscious after the removal of the first weapon. The second could only be pulled out after feeding the cat-dog-bird. And herein lay the first problem.
The control prompt to the boy’s climbing action was wrong, meaning I couldn’t climb up onto a shelf to get a barrel of food for my feathery friend. Configuring the controller with the triangle button as jump is fine provided that’s what you’re told, but there’s a second part to the motion, a grab performed with R1, and if you don’t press it the boy’s hand releases the ledge. The prompt itself showed only triangle and the left stick, meaning I was forced to ask the producer how to progress. He told me the prompt was “work in progress”. I mean, this was less than five minutes into the demo. Later on, I came across two more occasions where I became stuck and seriously couldn’t figure out what to do. Both were related to physical mechanics, not narrative.
It may mean nothing. The code may have been old. But the prompts themselves were surprisingly rough, just overlaid boxes dropping from the corner of the screen showing the controller with the relevant controls highlighted in yellow. If I walked backwards and forwards to a prompt point a cascade of boxes greeted me, one overlapping the last. It seemed messy. Considering how long Ueda’s been working on this, ructions or no, I would have at least expected it to be ready. Because what I saw probably wasn’t.
It wasn’t all bad. Ueda has injected this latest work with an intransigent wistfulness. This is his story, and he will tell it. Trico blinked and its eyes reflected multicolours like a hunting cat. Its movements were uncannily realistic, regardless of their coating, and it made noises I wanted to stroke. The puzzles, too, seemed satisfying and contained (once I’d started to get to grips with The Last Guardian’s world rules), and a sense of wonder met me in every room. Calling Trico along so you can either climb up onto its back or use it to smash objects feels like whistling for a pet. Once I was over the initial surprise of the code’s general raggedness, I soon started having fun. It begs you to explore, to progress. Its tech may be spotty, and at times the camera will leave you exasperated, but the overall vision is undeniably strong.
That’s all I can give up, really. I don’t want to tell you exactly what happened in play because I know so many of you have waited so long for this. The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons. Given this started as a PS3 project almost ten years ago, I suppose I feel foolish for thinking it could be anything other than clunky and weird, but the melancholy at its core is Ueda’s spirit itself, and any fan knows what that means. However it appears, The Last Guardian will be unforgettable and an instant buy for the old school. Whether it can weather some potentially bruising review scores to achieve commercial success with newer gamers – players long used to stellar production values and monumental world-building – could well be another story.
Hands-on with The Last Guardian: this is not the game you thought it would be
Spoilers.
The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons.
The closed doors (of behind-closed-doors fame) at the back of the SCEE media lounge at E3 last week contained a playable demo of The Last Guardian. I couldn’t believe it. (“We’re really going to play?” “Apparently, yeah.”) Only four members of the press were allowed into these hour-long sessions at once. Sony gave us hands-on with the first 40 minutes, and I need to say something now: this is not the game I thought it would be.
“It’s like a PS3 remake” was heard many times later that day, and no one had to ask as to the topic of discussion. I mean, it looks old. Given the difficult history associated with this project it’s hardly surprising the tech may not live up to initial reveals – Final Fantasy XV shared this problem at E3 – but given the levels of anticipation surrounding Fumito Ueda’s third Sony game, it seemed immediately obviously to me that many are going to be shocked. The textures seemed flat and, considering we’re talking about a single-player game in an enclosed environment here, the lighting and particle effects appeared positively prehistoric.
This is not any old video game, however. Most of the legions of PlayStation gamers who’ve been hanging onto their seats with every bump of The Last Guardian’s development will likely forgive a great deal. From what I played, they may have to.
I started as the boy in a stone room with the creature, Trico, chained to the floor by its neck. Injured by two spears sticking from its side, the grumpy monster knocked the child unconscious after the removal of the first weapon. The second could only be pulled out after feeding the cat-dog-bird. And herein lay the first problem.
The control prompt to the boy’s climbing action was wrong, meaning I couldn’t climb up onto a shelf to get a barrel of food for my feathery friend. Configuring the controller with the triangle button as jump is fine provided that’s what you’re told, but there’s a second part to the motion, a grab performed with R1, and if you don’t press it the boy’s hand releases the ledge. The prompt itself showed only triangle and the left stick, meaning I was forced to ask the producer how to progress. He told me the prompt was “work in progress”. I mean, this was less than five minutes into the demo. Later on, I came across two more occasions where I became stuck and seriously couldn’t figure out what to do. Both were related to physical mechanics, not narrative.
It may mean nothing. The code may have been old. But the prompts themselves were surprisingly rough, just overlaid boxes dropping from the corner of the screen showing the controller with the relevant controls highlighted in yellow. If I walked backwards and forwards to a prompt point a cascade of boxes greeted me, one overlapping the last. It seemed messy. Considering how long Ueda’s been working on this, ructions or no, I would have at least expected it to be ready. Because what I saw probably wasn’t.
It wasn’t all bad. Ueda has injected this latest work with an intransigent wistfulness. This is his story, and he will tell it. Trico blinked and its eyes reflected multicolours like a hunting cat. Its movements were uncannily realistic, regardless of their coating, and it made noises I wanted to stroke. The puzzles, too, seemed satisfying and contained (once I’d started to get to grips with The Last Guardian’s world rules), and a sense of wonder met me in every room. Calling Trico along so you can either climb up onto its back or use it to smash objects feels like whistling for a pet. Once I was over the initial surprise of the code’s general raggedness, I soon started having fun. It begs you to explore, to progress. Its tech may be spotty, and at times the camera will leave you exasperated, but the overall vision is undeniably strong.
That’s all I can give up, really. I don’t want to tell you exactly what happened in play because I know so many of you have waited so long for this. The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons. Given this started as a PS3 project almost ten years ago, I suppose I feel foolish for thinking it could be anything other than clunky and weird, but the melancholy at its core is Ueda’s spirit itself, and any fan knows what that means. However it appears, The Last Guardian will be unforgettable and an instant buy for the old school. Whether it can weather some potentially bruising review scores to achieve commercial success with newer gamers – players long used to stellar production values and monumental world-building – could well be another story.
https://www.vg247.com/2016/06/22/hands-on-with-the-last-guardian-ps4/
Hands-on with The Last Guardian: this is not the game you thought it would be
Spoilers.
The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons.
The closed doors (of behind-closed-doors fame) at the back of the SCEE media lounge at E3 last week contained a playable demo of The Last Guardian. I couldn’t believe it. (“We’re really going to play?” “Apparently, yeah.”) Only four members of the press were allowed into these hour-long sessions at once. Sony gave us hands-on with the first 40 minutes, and I need to say something now: this is not the game I thought it would be.
“It’s like a PS3 remake” was heard many times later that day, and no one had to ask as to the topic of discussion. I mean, it looks old. Given the difficult history associated with this project it’s hardly surprising the tech may not live up to initial reveals – Final Fantasy XV shared this problem at E3 – but given the levels of anticipation surrounding Fumito Ueda’s third Sony game, it seemed immediately obviously to me that many are going to be shocked. The textures seemed flat and, considering we’re talking about a single-player game in an enclosed environment here, the lighting and particle effects appeared positively prehistoric.
This is not any old video game, however. Most of the legions of PlayStation gamers who’ve been hanging onto their seats with every bump of The Last Guardian’s development will likely forgive a great deal. From what I played, they may have to.
I started as the boy in a stone room with the creature, Trico, chained to the floor by its neck. Injured by two spears sticking from its side, the grumpy monster knocked the child unconscious after the removal of the first weapon. The second could only be pulled out after feeding the cat-dog-bird. And herein lay the first problem.
The control prompt to the boy’s climbing action was wrong, meaning I couldn’t climb up onto a shelf to get a barrel of food for my feathery friend. Configuring the controller with the triangle button as jump is fine provided that’s what you’re told, but there’s a second part to the motion, a grab performed with R1, and if you don’t press it the boy’s hand releases the ledge. The prompt itself showed only triangle and the left stick, meaning I was forced to ask the producer how to progress. He told me the prompt was “work in progress”. I mean, this was less than five minutes into the demo. Later on, I came across two more occasions where I became stuck and seriously couldn’t figure out what to do. Both were related to physical mechanics, not narrative.
It may mean nothing. The code may have been old. But the prompts themselves were surprisingly rough, just overlaid boxes dropping from the corner of the screen showing the controller with the relevant controls highlighted in yellow. If I walked backwards and forwards to a prompt point a cascade of boxes greeted me, one overlapping the last. It seemed messy. Considering how long Ueda’s been working on this, ructions or no, I would have at least expected it to be ready. Because what I saw probably wasn’t.
It wasn’t all bad. Ueda has injected this latest work with an intransigent wistfulness. This is his story, and he will tell it. Trico blinked and its eyes reflected multicolours like a hunting cat. Its movements were uncannily realistic, regardless of their coating, and it made noises I wanted to stroke. The puzzles, too, seemed satisfying and contained (once I’d started to get to grips with The Last Guardian’s world rules), and a sense of wonder met me in every room. Calling Trico along so you can either climb up onto its back or use it to smash objects feels like whistling for a pet. Once I was over the initial surprise of the code’s general raggedness, I soon started having fun. It begs you to explore, to progress. Its tech may be spotty, and at times the camera will leave you exasperated, but the overall vision is undeniably strong.
That’s all I can give up, really. I don’t want to tell you exactly what happened in play because I know so many of you have waited so long for this. The Last Guardian is likely to be one of the most discussed games of 2016, and hopefully it’ll be for the right reasons. Given this started as a PS3 project almost ten years ago, I suppose I feel foolish for thinking it could be anything other than clunky and weird, but the melancholy at its core is Ueda’s spirit itself, and any fan knows what that means. However it appears, The Last Guardian will be unforgettable and an instant buy for the old school. Whether it can weather some potentially bruising review scores to achieve commercial success with newer gamers – players long used to stellar production values and monumental world-building – could well be another story.
Bit of a strange title considering he goes on to illustrate how it is what was expected. A last-gen game with interesting gameplay and story.
Anybody expecting a polished current-gen looking game obviously weren't paying attention.
I'm not concerned about the visuals (textures and so forth). I have a good idea what to expect from all the footage, and I'm okay with it. It's certainly not going to rival a good PS4 game in that regard. That's okay -- I'm looking to the game for the artistic experience, so to speak. Fuzzy paintings can still be beautiful.
I am concerned about his remarks about the camera. I hope it doesn't malfunction too much. I'm sure it's hard to get it working right, in situations where you have a small guy, a huge bird/dog/cat thing, and an enclosed space.
I am concerned about his remarks about the camera. I hope it doesn't malfunction too much. I'm sure it's hard to get it working right, in situations where you have a small guy, a huge bird/dog/cat thing, and an enclosed space.
Like a few people here, I started gaming on some system that came just before the Atari 2600. I forgot the name but it was basically Pong, and black and white. I love nice visuals, but if the story/gameplay is good, I don't really care what it looks like.
Sadly I'm willing to bet the visuals will be a big focal point though.
It sounds like there will be enough substance here, but I agree, cameras can be frustrating (I'm looking at YOU, Ninja Gaiden). So hopefully it's not a major issue.
I'm banking on that sense of place and wonder overpowering my frustration with the camera. I've been frustrated plenty during my time as a gamer though, and know that enjoyment can still be had. I love the concept, and that is probably enough to get me through it. It IS a shame to hear some of this, though, as a game like this really benefits from immersion...