This will be my last post on game reviews, I swear. I've been reading all of the discussion that's cropped up around my recent posts, and I've continued to think about the issue based on all of the fantastic feedback I've gotten from you very intelligent, handsome folk.We've agreed that the point score is somewhat a fallacious (that word always makes me snicker) way of measuring a game for a few key reasons. The first, subjectivity -- a score means more coming from a reviewer or individual whose taste and preferences the reader is already familiar with. Second, genre variety -- while a point score generally weighs a game against others in its genre, there's been much more genre-blending in recent years and one can no longer corral a title into a single category like "Action," "Shooter," or "Puzzle" -- generally, people agree they want more complex game criticism to go with it.
Thirdly, there's the oft-cited concept of the "three point curve" -- that is, anything below a score of 7 out of 10 is not worth buying, an "8" is average, and rankings between 9 and 10, divided by often arbitrary decimal points, indicate a so-called "perfect game," much to the chagrin and argument of dissenters. Obviously, when a great game receives a score of 8 and that score is then excoriated for being too low, we've got a bit of a problem.
More on Mario Galaxy quite soon, but it's being widely reported today that the ratings it's receiving position it to be the best-rated game of all time, besting the statistical and general-consensus fave Ocarina of Time. Let's assume that Ocarina of Time truly is the best video game ever made, putting aside the fact that the entire gaming community can't possibly agree on a statement like that (personally, I hold Link to the Past higher still, and am partial to Metal Gear 3 as the whole-package pinnacle, for example). But if it is so, then is one week on the market enough to crown Mario Galaxy the new king? Should we really be judging games to such an extent based only on one week of play -- keeping in mind that under pressure from editors and industry competition, most of these reviewers probably released their results after one day, maybe even just a few hours, of play?
I don't think anyone can argue with the fact that some reviews carry more weight, in the grand scheme of things, than others. There was far more riding on reviews of Heavenly Sword and Lair, or Halo 3, than there was on, say, Donkey Kong Barrel Blast or Izuna. When I talk to game fans, their biggest concern regarding the reviews they read are that writers can be "bought" by publisher freebies and star treatment, or secondarily, that writers will be bowed by the pressure of editors with business relationships in mind. And it's true that the industry has writers somewhat in a vise. With the quantity of new releases seeming ever to increase in volume -- and, concurrently, their prices -- a reviewer, whether freelance or with an organization, literally can't thrive unless they're in good with publishers. If they aren't, game reviewers will probably spend more on games then they could possibly earn from the reviews they publish. This is another reason it's tough for new talent and left-field ideas to break into game journalism -- if the pub doesn't recognize the publication in your email signature, you probably ain't getting the game.
No one's saying that's not an issue, and I certainly don't claim to know an easy solution -- but I'm offering here that there's a third kind of pressure squishing reviews into this narrow, ineffectual three-point-curve: a massive sense of responsibility placed on writers by a nearly-hysterical gaming audience, who are poised to pounce en masse on both media and game companies alike at either the slightest triumph or misstep. I'd like to say we've all got the journalistic integrity or whatnot to be unequivocally honest, rather than preparatory for reactionism, but I'm not so sure. I feel pretty confident in my integrity, and yet the pressure is something I tend to be aware of.
Internet mob psychology means that if one site gives a title a certain ranking, there's pressure to concur -- no one wants to be the one who gave Mass Effect a 5, right? If you give a lower score than two other sites have, you're an asshole. If you give a higher one, you're a whore.
Most of all, reviewers are all gamers too. We have to be -- would you accept game criticism from someone who wasn't? And, admit it. Buying a new Mario, decades after the first one introduced you to gaming, and seeing a new generation of technology, graphics and gameplay present your beloved, familiar premise -- if you don't geek out, you're not a gamer. Perhaps that little surge of glee when you see a vividly colorful 3D Princess Peach kidnapped yet again against the backdrop of a bright, starry sky, might sway you just a little?
That's the thing. Reviewers want to love the games they play, with few exceptions -- they have been eagerly anticipating these titles and hoping for the best just as the readers have. Maybe they begged to get a spot reviewing the next title in their favorite franchise, because secretly, deep down, they were as hopeful as you were that it would be a hit. It sucks for us when a game isn't good, especially if it was one that could've meant something to us. Sucks when months of hype, pretty screenshots, interviews and advance press turn out to be a bubble that pops. Sucks so much we don't want to admit it; maybe 7 is the lowest some of us can go without emotional conflict.
Side note: Portal is an incredible game, no doubt, for reasons I've noted at length. But I wonder if the outpouring of love media and gamers alike felt for the sleeper hit was due at least in part to the fact that we'd heard nothing much about it, expected absolutely nothing from it?
Back to the main thread -- is it reviewers' fault, then, that they're perceived as a bit dishonest? Maybe we need to grow stiffer spines, though the other factors I mentioned are clearly influential, too.
Twilight Princess, the first next-gen Zelda, was reviewed favorably, universally beloved. For a short while. Only a few months after the fact, when lots of people (myself included) couldn't finish it, did people start to confess that they might have been a little more disappointed with it than reviews would indicate. In fact, there's been more of a backlash against the game than I think it deserves, as a result. So is Mario Galaxy really a 9-plus, or does the franchise just mean that much to us? Will we be unable to criticize it honestly for another year?
