News > Okami: A Lesson In "Games As Art"
June 21, 2007
It has been quite a while since the release of Clover Studio's action/adventure game Okami was released on the PS2, and since then, there has been little to satisfy the desire for something truly new, unique, artistic, and meaningful in the videogame world.
Upon first picking up the artistic wonder called Okami, I was instantly and consistently engrossed. Brought to us by Clover Studio, this fantastically stylish offering is the kind of game that seems to generate mountains of acclaim, yet build molehills of revenue at cash registers around the world. Clearly it didn't do well enough, monetarily, to save the studio that created it, because Clover Studio was shut down shortly after its release.
Anyway, in terms of general game design, Okami, when stripped down, is a basic adventure game in the vein of Zelda and the like. If I was here to write a review, I could tell you all about every aspect of the game, from combat mechanics to plotline nuances (and I will probably touch on much of what lies in between, anyway), but I think it may be a bit late for all that, considering the game's age.
What I would like to talk about today is the idea that the medium of the video game is much more than it has been in the past. It is evolving into (and in my opinion, already has become, in many instances) a fine art just as legitimate as any symphony or concerto, novel or poem, statue or sculpture, fresco or portrait. As such, the video game is a prime candidate for study and analysis in academia or the general public arena. Of course, not all selections will carry the same weight in terms of underlying meaning or intellectual significance, and there will always be mindless entries into the ever-growing library of interactive entertainment, but with ever-increasing frequency, titles are released that offer much more to the mind than point-and-shoot.
Okami is one such project that seems to offer more depth for the gamer to swim about in. This may not necessarily apply when it comes to game mechanics, but in provocation of thought and 'blossoming,' as it might be, of ideas, it certainly does. These 'ideas' I refer to are in stark contrast to what the likes of Jack Thompson might try to preach to the nation about video games. Nearly every action, represented in brushstrokes similar to the art of Bernard Buffet, carries a positive message and uplifting imagery. (Buffet's art: Example 1, 2, 3)
An over-arching theme that is quite apparent in Okami is the restoration of natural beauty. Early objectives in the game include the revitalization of withered trees, which when revived bloom wildly in an explosion of bright, pastel-colored leaves and flowers. This eruption doesn't stop at the branches, either. It flows over the countryside on a wave of light, vivifying large areas of previously "cursed" land. Scattered about the game world are many more smaller areas tainted by similar clouds of unsightly purple smoke. These must be restored by drawing flowerbeds over them, after which they burst back to life in the same grand fashion as before.
Parallels can be drawn between these cursed areas and certain aspects of the real world. An obvious connection would be to the issue of pollution, with the metaphor being "clean up the environment to make the world a better place" or "take care of nature's flora and nature will reciprocate." While this may be the most clear of comparisons, my contention is that these cursed zones can be expanded in scope to represent any of the world's ills - elements that must be treated in order to restore harmony.
What makes Okami's actions so meaningful, however, is the way in which many are performed. By holding R1, the action can be stopped and the screen will tilt into a sort of canvas, above which is suspended a a large paintbrush, wielded by no one but the gamer. The "celestial brush" as it's called, allows one to draw onscreen the result he or she desires. Filling in a section of land sprouts a bed of flowers, encircling a gnarled and bare tree grants it a lush canopy of leaves, dotting the ground sprouts new saplings, etc. This sort of interaction is a way of absorbing the player into the game world, making that world, as well as the changes made to it, more tangible. "It is by my hand that these results are borne," says the subconscious mind.
Even the color palette chosen by Clover seems of some significance. Rather than the drab earthtones of many modern games, the bright pinks, greens, and blues seem to communicate a sense of hope to the gamer. It is as if the game is implying that even in a world marred by darkness, attention to nature (which is considered of the utmost importance) is paramount to achieving happiness or success.
Another deed encouraged of the gamer, and likely performed quite often, is to feed the many animals encountered during the adventure. There are 4 different types of feedbags available to the main character, Amaterasu, and when he runs into any wild animal, there is an option to feed it. The better a match to the preferred diet of that particular species, the more "praise" the player will receive. Praise is actually Okami's unit of experience, accrued and then allocated to different attributes, allowing for growth throughout the game.
Basically, without praise, Amaterasu is weak. praise=happiness...praise=success.
Praise serves as a reward not only for feeding critters, but for all of the actions mentioned earlier, as well. Incentive is always there for the player to do right by mother nature, even if the magnificent displays of art in each short cutscene aren't enough motivation. So, if all of the good deeds in Okami garner praise, and we already know praise equals happiness and success, then by the law of syllogism, performing those actions clearly equals happiness and success. This is the take-home lesson of this game.
One last point worth noting is that in Okami, with every act of destruction comes new creation. Every time an enemy is defeated, flowers sprout from the spot where it met its demise. Every tree that is cut down returns to its former glory shortly after, and often bears fruit for Amaterasu. Every explosion yields not flame, but confetti and fireworks. Even when breaking jars, pots, boxes and such, Amaterasu has foliage sprouting from under his feet. As a matter of fact, this happens wherever he may run at all. With all the violent imagery (which, for the record, I'm not necessarily opposed to) people consume on a daily basis, this subtle touch is quite refreshing.
Refreshing. Certainly a good descriptor of Okami as a whole, and absolutely applicable to any game presented in a similar fashion - as a fine artform.
*Eddie R Inzauto - Senior Editor, GameWad.com
