Like you, my
backlog of media is huge. I need to read Slaughterhouse
Five and Gravity’s Rainbow. I should
watch Alien and The Godfather at some point. I still haven’t started The Wire. But out of everything I need
to get to, games are the most daunting task. I could easily set aside 2 hours
for a movie, but the 80 hours I need to beat something like Fallout: New Vegas, or the amount of
time I would need to have a deep understanding of the mechanics of Company of Heroes, are far greater than
the chunk of my life that would evaporate by binge watching a bad Netflix
original show over a weekend. That said, getting to the games I’ve been putting
off playing for years brings its own feeling of accomplishment that I can’t get
from watching something that I will only engage with for a fraction of the
time. And out of the games I’ve been meaning to get to, Okami was relatively high on the list.
Source: Capcom Unity Twitter https://twitter.com/Capcom_Unity/status/941450499596812288 |
After a short
cutscene following Orochi’s defeat, your bug sized companion Issun tells you to
head back to Kamiki Village, the game’s starting location, for a festival being
held to celebrate Orochi’s current defeat and his loss from a century prior.
You regain control of Amaterasu in Kamiki Village just after the cutscene ends.
Teleporting you here is such a smart way to handle the situation too, because
it doesn’t give the player the chance to miss the festival. Okami takes you by the hand and says,
“Hey, take a break. You earned it.” The brilliance of the festival scene is in
its sincerity. The inhabitants of Kamiki aren’t getting drunk, playing with
their pets, and setting off fireworks so that you might get a new weapon or
learn more about the story through a text dump. They are celebrating for
themselves, and so that you might be able to relax and feel you’ve accomplished
something. What Okami does here to recognize the player’s efforts is so much more
powerful than an achievement unlocking or a pop up saying you’ve leveled up.
Okami genuinely wants the player to feel
at peace. The night sky being lit up by fireworks in the shape of Amaterasu and
Issun is something that should make anyone laugh at the game, not with it. In
this respect, the Kamiki Festival is not unlike a lot of Okami director Hideki Kamiya’s output (including Devil May Cry, Viewtiful Joe, and Bayonetta).
Kamiya is a man that truly feels a dude named after a 14th century
poet, wearing an ankle length leather duster sans shirt, wielding two guns AND
a sword is the coolest cool dude that shoots lava spider demons in the face.
Kamiya’s games (and Twitter account) reveal him to be a man devoid of irony.
His sincerity in crafting both a sexy witch that uses her hair to send demons
back to Hell and a small annual celebration of good’s triumph over evil is what
sells me on his games despite how goofy they are at a cursory glance. Kamiya’s games are cool and stylish for the
sake of being cool and stylish. When he wants you to feel you have made life
better for a small village in ancient Japan, you honestly feel the respite from
everyday life you have provided for these people is real.
The villagers only
see Amaterasu as a wolf, not “that which is good and motherly to all”. No one
directly thanks you. Instead, you get the privilege to see everyone enjoying
themselves, carefree, without the burden of having to bow down to their savoir
and shower them with upgrade points or healing items. You have the satisfaction
of knowing you altruistically gave them this time of rest and comfort. Okami is a game where you literally use
art to make the world a better place. Because the game so honestly wants you to
feel a pure sense of joy during the Kamiki Festival, Okami manages to mirror your in-game actions and becomes a
brushstroke that enriches the lives of anyone that it comes in contact with.
Don’t wait any longer to play this if you haven’t yet. Strike Okami from your backlog as fast as you
can.