A massive creature towers above you, dwarfing the hills behind it. As your heart races in fear, you know you have no choice but to slay this monster if you are to restore the life of your loved one’s life. Armed with no more than a sword and a firm resolve, you run toward the colossus, and begin climbing up its legs.

The colossus, fighting for its life, attempts to shake you off. As you cling to its hair for dear life, you frantically seek out its vitals. Finally, you spot a weak point on the giant’s head, and drive your sword into the creature’s skull, causing a spray of black blood to spew forth. The mystical colossus roars in pain as it crashes to the ground, and slowly dies. The earth rumbles and you are, once again, alone with your horse.

This moving scene was one of many in 2005’s Shadow of the Colossus, a critically praised Sony Computer Entertainment adventure game. Gamespot lauded Shadow’s artistic style, calling its aesthetic presentation “unparalleled, by any standard.”

Since Shadow of the Colossus‘ release, the video game industry has been growing at a steady rate. The industry’s total revenue last year was $18 billion – a record high. And no wonder: Now, more than ever, the intrinsic ability of video games to affect audiences is evolving. Better graphics, more impactful plotlines, smoother gameplay, and seamless voiceovers make good storytelling through video games not only a possibility, but an expectation.

Even though it’s already over two years old, I still find myself deeply nostalgic about Shadow of the Colossus, specifically the beauty and gravity with which it told its story. My time with the game was an artistic experience that was as arresting to me as some of the best films I’ve seen.

Movie critic Roger Ebert once said, “A game can aspire to artistic importance as a visual experience.” But he also said that the video-game medium could never achieve the status of “art”. This may have been true in the days of rudimentaryAtari and Pac-Man, but in the 21st Century, interactive entertainment is reaching unprecedented artistic standards of design, gameplay and overall experience. Sure, most games serve only as a means of escape and, just as in Hollywood, most developers are in it to make money and not to push the medium’s limits. But every once in a while, a game transcends the standards, and revolutionizes genres and expectations. These gems, like some Oscar winners, aren’t always best-sellers, but they provide consumers with a unique, artistic experience.

We can talk all day about what “art” really is, but a more effective way of arguing the value of video games as “art” would be to carry the argument across other media that are already recognized as “art”, let’s take film.

Many movies aren’t artistic, moving or evocative. Some of the most popular movies– just like the most popular games– contain few individualizing aspects, and instead stick to tried-and-true formulas to make money. The gaming industry, however, gets more flak for this lack of content because the artistic side of gaming has yet to be fully realized. Yet if people watched movies like Saw and Meet the Spartans exclusively, film wouldn’t be a respected art form, either.

Shadow of the Colossus is a perfect testimony to the artistic potential of video games. It illustrates important, evocative aspects of gaming that many critics have yet to experience, and is more moving and impactful to me than most films I’ve seen.

Nevertheless, Ebert’s main argument against games as art states that, “video games are inherently inferior to film and literature,” as they, “require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control.” He also made the point that, “no one in or out of the [video game] field has ever been able to cite a game worthy of comparison with the great dramatists, poets, filmmakers, novelists and composers.”

In refutation of Ebert’s first statement, the very beauty of video games is that they let the player act within the story’s context. The experience of playing a video game is more akin to acting in a film than watching one. Actors, like gamers, play their character within the context of the story, yet no authorial control is sacrificed.

This duality of control speaks to the uniquely-effective way whereby video games can contain emotionally touching players. As I played Shadow of the Colossus, I realized that the creatures I was killing were innocent, and though I felt accomplished, I felt no glory nor happiness after taking them down. Killing the colossi was a joyless task, a necessary sacrifice. Shadow confronted me with a moral dilemma – something no other medium has ever done.

In response to the second quote, Ebert forgot to mention the fact that film, poetry, literature, and music were already respected art forms when their masters were noted as such. How can someone call a game a piece of art when they don’t believe the video game medium can produce it?

As some statistics show, the gaming industry does quite a bit to universalize its audience. Until that time comes, though, a mass of consumers is deprived of the artistic value that games in the current generation have to offer. 2007 was, in my opinion, one of gaming’s best years thus far. I’m convinced that it’s only a matter of time before the video game medium gains respect. But until that day comes, I’ll be playing Shadow of the Colossus: a modern masterpiece.