At the Game Awards Thursday night, Geoff Keighley, both the founder and host, caught everyone off guard. He seemed on the verge of tears as he announced Capcom’s development of a sequel to the PlayStation 2 classic, Okami, with its original director, Hideki Kamiya, at the helm.
Seeing Keighley so moved was incredibly relatable, and I found myself sharing those emotions. Watching the teaser, which featured little more than emotional music, clips of a wolf in motion, the Capcom logo, and a nod to Kamiya, I couldn’t help but shed a tear myself.
Let me give you some context. Released in 2006, Okami is undoubtedly a remarkable game. It tells the story of a celestial wolf god, engaging in battles against spirits and solving problems for confused villagers, all within a Zelda-style action-adventure format. The game is visually stunning, drawing from traditional Japanese art, with characters outlined in bold, black brushstrokes adorned with gentle watercolors.
I had the opportunity to review Okami for Edge magazine back then and awarded it a solid 9 out of 10, a score I’d still defend. It might not be my all-time favorite, given its length and occasional clunkiness, and it doesn’t quite top my list compared to several fantastic Zelda games.
However, Okami is emblematic of a pivotal era in gaming, especially among major Japanese studios, where there was a concerted effort to broaden the artistic horizons of video games. Unfortunately, this vision didn’t fully materialize, evident in the game’s lackluster sales that led to the closure of the distinctive Capcom studio, Clover. This downfall also prompted Kamiya, Shinji Mikami, and others to leave Capcom and form PlatinumGames.
Capcom’s decision to reconnect with Kamiya, who now leads his studio, Clovers, to fund an Okami sequel suggests that the essence of that ambitious time isn’t entirely forgotten. It’s also an indication—since Capcom is very much a business—that the various re-releases of Okami have garnered enough success to motivate this decision and shown Capcom the error of its past ways.
As I watched the announcement, with its incredible music brought to life by a live orchestra, I was impressed by the new visual direction, which replaces ink outlines with beautiful strokes of color. I was captivated by the animation depicting the wolf god, Amaterasu, sprinting across the land. Yet, like Geoff, I was deeply touched by the significance of what this announcement represents.
The livestream juxtaposed Keighley’s giddy excitement with Kamiya’s impassive demeanor, seated in the audience, his signature red sunglasses hiding any hint of emotion. Known for his notorious Twitter quips, he was likely mentally prepping a playful jab at Geoff’s display of vulnerability. I suspect I might be next in line for such a jest.
