Unlocking the Enigma: Accessibility Challenges in the World of Prince of Persia

At the Game Awards, it was quite easy to blink and miss the award for best accessibility feature in a game for 2024, which was awarded to Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown. You might find it challenging to understand what it really offered, as the presentation did not mention the accessibility features of the nominated games. However, having played through the entire game, I understand the points being made, but I have some reservations about claiming it was the top example of accessibility for 2024.

Snapshot in Platforming

This won’t serve as a review of the entire game, but I want to focus specifically on the use and integration of its most promoted and notable accessibility feature — the ability to take in-game screenshot notes. The goal was to give players a means to document a room, either to mark notes for a puzzle or to remind themselves about a specific ability or item they need to retrieve later. For PC gamers, they could simply use a built-in feature to take screenshots, but this marked the first time such an option was available for everyone, including console players.

A significant challenge within metroidvania and open-world games is that players can easily forget where they needed to use a skill or may overlook something crucial. Encountering La-Mulana simultaneously, a feature like this would have been very beneficial.

So, what’s my issue with it? It’s not that the feature is flawed or lacks functionality, but rather that it became an integral part of gameplay regardless of whether you wanted to use it or not.

Tokens for Accessibility

Effective accessibility features in video games are those that enhance a well-balanced experience and provide a way for more individuals to enjoy a game that they might not have been able to engage with without them. When examining titles that utilize assistance modes as optional features, the game itself is not balanced, nor is the experience reliant on those features.

The problem arises when accessibility isn’t properly handled is when the game seems balanced, or equilibrium is overlooked, in favor of using an accessibility feature as a quick fix. A problem does not remain a problem if the player can simply disable it or ignore it by tweaking other options. This is different from having a sandbox or free play mode in survival/crafting games, as those games attract an audience that genuinely aims to utilize the tools available. One of my more contentious points that has garnered me criticism from many is that accessibility features do not rectify a game’s issues. Time and again, I have witnessed games that relied on accessibility features to prop them up ultimately suffer in terms of player engagement and retention, and Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown is not an exception to this rule — with over half of the players on Steam quitting before even clocking in an hour of gameplay.

The memory shard feature is indeed a positive element, yet it feels as though the game was designed and paced around its use rather than being merely an optional addition. Image courtesy of the creator/Ubisoft.

Throughout my playthrough, I was rather surprised to discover that an accessibility feature serves as a resource that can be depleted during gameplay.

The player has a limited number of “images” they can take before they must remove some. This left an unpleasant taste as it reminded me of when NetherRealm introduced the ability for “easy fatalities,” which allowed players to execute a character’s fatality with just one button press. On paper, this seems fantastic and an excellent way to offer accessibility to those who may not remember these combos or struggle to input them… correct? Instead, it turned into a consumable resource that players could purchase to earn more tokens if they ran out.

Returning to Lost Crown, as a reward for completing some of the more arduous and optional platforming tasks, players could earn additional memory shards/screenshot tokens. In theory, this sounds fair, but it means that the game’s challenges and reward system are tied to an accessibility feature. If someone opts not to use this feature, linking rewards to it feels disheartening for players who successfully completed challenges without receiving recognition for their efforts.

Accessibility should not be something that is “consumable” or a resource; it should always be available if a player chooses to utilize it. Therefore, if someone does not wish to engage with it or does not need it, the game should not be balanced or structured with it in mind. For a dedicated metroidvania enthusiast of Prince of Persia, or a serious fighting game fan of Mortal Kombat, these options hold no value for them; they are not going to seek them out to play. However, for someone who genuinely requires or wants these features to enjoy the game, tying them to a resource is unjust. Imagine if a game demanded the player to use gameplay to activate colorblind mode or required gameplay to unlock subtitles, and the backlash it would receive from accessibility advocates.

When Accessibility Works

If your game’s mechanics are being balanced under the premise that players can simply use an accessibility feature to “fix” any issues, you will see individuals quitting out of frustration. They might not be aware of the option, or they may feel that the game does not provide them with a finely crafted experience. The instances when I had to employ an assistance feature or accessibility option to complete a game did not endear me to their inclusion; rather, they made me ponder just how many players quit before discovering these alternatives.

In the case of Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown, while the game may have been accessible through this feature, it never truly felt accessible regarding its pacing and level design — a discussion too lengthy to elaborate on within this piece. While I have yet to play it, the accessibility features implemented in The Last of Us 2 allowed players to fully engage.