Afterword
From Styleguide
[edit] Game Criticism Redefined: “Is This Game Any Good?”
Because the videogame business is, at heart, a product-driven business, journalists covering the industry constantly face this question time and time again. In fact, videogame reviews and criticism often overshadow other forms of game journalism, from news to investigative reporting and commentary. Oddly, while reviewing turns a quick critical eye toward games, the art of reviewing games receives little critical attention of its own. So turning the tables of game criticism for a moment, we can ask the question: “Is this review any good?”
A final answer to this question will always depend on the basic skills of the writer, the needs of the reader and the style, tone and editorial direction of the publication running the review. Still, a basic framework for game reviews and criticism can help a writer judge the quality of their criticism as well as improve upon it.
First off, it helps to separate the ideas of “reviews” from “criticism.” In a very simple sense, reviews work at the level of explaining what something is while criticism seeks to explain what something means. A review might encourage players to check out World of Warcraft by describing what it is, championing this feature or that and giving it a place in the world of massively multiplayer online games. A critical piece might explore what it means when so many adults spend so much of their leisure time pretending to be winsome elves.
In this way, reviews and criticism form two ends of a spectrum of game evaluation. Reviews provide the basic descriptive material of the subject at hand while criticism looks to answer bigger questions around meaning.
In between these two poles sits a form of critical reviewing that borrows from each end and asks the question: What does this mean to me?
The urge to evaluate or produce criticism begins with some form of the statement “I liked” or “I didn’t like.” It’s a natural starting point. From an early age teachers instill this idea. “Why did you like the book?” “What did you see in that film?” “What makes this story more compelling to you than other stories?” Introspection starts the process of discovery and articulation brings out those ideas for others to see and consider.
But really, this sort of criticism is just the theater of taste. If you tell me what you like and don’t like, then I am left to unravel whether your taste means anything to me. How do I turn what you like into the raw material for the judgments I want to make about what I like? In a sea of uncertainty dotted with isolated islands of ego, everyone gets to be their own critic and no bigger picture emerges.
For this reason, the notion of “criticism” has become associated with reviewers and wags who simply stand on the sidelines and nitpick. Even when the people are smart and articulate, if they simply spit out taste, then the quality of delivery remains a fancy wrapper on a fairly empty package. When you hear a run-of-the-mill movie critic cry, “I loved it!” you only care to the degree that you might agree with them taste-wise. You don’t have any information to form more sophisticated judgments.
And for many critics, this is as far as criticism goes. Some critics make a career out of broadcasting their personality and opinion in this manner. Readers become familiar with what a critic likes and doesn’t like, so they become a sort of standard measure through consistency, rather than depth of critical insight. Whether you agree with the critic or not, you at least know where they stand. You might actually buy a game or watch a movie simply because a critic you regularly disagree with trashes something. You figure if they hated it that much, then there must be something there.
Outside of games, we generally split our reviewers from our critics… and in some cases very vigorously. Pauline Kael wrote criticism; Harry Knowles spouts opinions. Roland Barthes wrote literary criticism; the book editor in your local paper writes reviews. Lester Bangs wrote rock criticism; Dick Clark only asked “Does it have a beat? Can you dance to it?” And so on.
From this background, we can put together a model with reviewing as the “tip of the iceberg,” basic criticism reflecting a bit on the subject and popular criticism providing a more fundamental kind of analysis that digs deeper than the review. And, at the base, a form of developed criticism that searches for more fundamental answers to the bigger question of “is this game any good?”
• Review – What is it? • •• Basic criticism – Do I like it? •• ••• Popular criticism – Would other people like it?••• •••••• Developed criticism – What does it mean?••••••
GAME CRITICISM MODEL
Of course, a useful critical perspective can blossom from a review culture. Over the years, many videogame critics have realized that timeless criticism is about more than the opinions of the reviewer. These critics try to place a title in the context of other games. They compare features and player reception between games and try to make more universal judgments about the title. In reviewing Grand Theft Auto, for example, they will talk about the arch of the game series, and compare GTA to other mission-based driving games. They will emphasize what the game does that is new and what it does better than games in the past. They try to answer the question of “Where does this game fit with regards to other videogames?” And, at times, they tackle the question of what the game means to other gamers. “Do you like driving and shooting games?” they ask, “Then GTA III is for you!” No longer is the review simply about the reviewer. It is about anyone who might play the game.
Much of professional game criticism today is of this type. Dedicated journalists try to steer their fellow gamers toward quality product. And along the way, they attempt to define what quality is. Unfortunately, many critics stop at this point. They never move fully into the next phase of criticism. They never ask the big question, “What does this mean?”
Many writers shy away from these big questions because they feel that bringing up these kinds of issues is pretentious or making a big deal out of a little thing — a videogame. Really, this is more an issue of style than of substance. Blowhard academics can make simple things sound complex and great writers can make the sublime sensible. Rock and roll and film are mediums filled with critics that manage to entertain, incite and explore their subjects without dipping into self-serving postulation and pondering. Critics such as Lester Bangs and Robert Christgau made sense out of rock and roll without sterilizing it. Pauline Kael turned film criticism into a popular art form without dumbing it down. Roger Ebert carries on that tradition today by striving for meaning in his reviews without resorting to specialized academic vocabularies. Chuck Klosterman may not get videogames, but he manages to render cheap pop culture into a meaningful reflection on modern society.
Rather than threatening to turn game reviewing into an esoteric art, the desire to plumb the critical depths really comes from the basis of reviewing and popular criticism. Each level of criticism relies on the previous. A critic starts asking about the meanings the game has to themselves, whether or not they like it. Next, they may generalize their tastes into whether others might like the game. Finally, they try to figure out what truths might be contained within that mean something in a more universal context.
If you reviewed GTA III, for example, and really liked it, you could look at it mechanically and wonder why it was enjoyable. You could abstract those reasons to come up with reasons why other gamers might like the game. And, as you reached the next level of criticism, you might start to ask questions like:
- Why is it fun to be bad?
- Does playing a criminal make me want to do bad things in real life?
- If the character I play is a thieving, murdering ex-con, why do I feel such sympathy for him?
- Do we live in an age where media violence has become so normal that we can only laugh about it?
- What is happening in society where behaving badly in a virtual world is so satisfying?
- What is it like to live in a world where a game like this is a best-seller?
Of course, these are only examples. Still, these questions lead far from the sort of review that is concerned with graphics, voice acting, particle effects, control set-ups or cut scenes alone. Certainly, these elements matter, but they are most compelling when looked at in the context of bigger questions that matter not only to the game and the player, but also outside that closed and isolated loop.
Over time, expect to see the evolution of criticism in videogames continue as academics bring their philosophical and structural tools to bear in creating conceptual criticism that will surely disturb gamers accustomed to simpler forms. Look for game reviewers tired of simple recitations of product features to mature into critics. These writers will most likely form the lead column in an advancement of game criticism. Why? Because, simply, as common reviewing convention grows toward more sophisticated criticism, the critics can help make sense of the medium in both a personal and larger cultural context for gamers.
And this is good news for games.
For videogames to actually grow as an expressive art form and reach beyond the status of toy products built as simple diversions and recognize their full potential as a renowned creative and aesthetic pursuit, people need to talk about them differently. Game journalists can help lead that conversation by finding more interesting answers.”
— David Thomas
