EDIT: Title changed because I didn't much care for the old one...
Unsure as to whether or not to start a new topic on this, but I don't really like posting two huge chunks of text in the same thread. Seems oddly improper.
In a review of mine for FFXII a respondent asked 'How can I take this review seriously if you're going to 'knock off 8 points from the mark of any game that features a section where the player's character is captured by the law, imprisoned, then makes their escape, happily finding a treasure chest containing all their confiscated possessions.' It was a very good question. He went on to ask 'Or should I take it seriously when you admit to having absolutely no idea what was going on in the plot. It's an RPG. If you don't understand the storyline, is it possible that it's not the writers fault? It's not like the game was a David Lynch movie.' A fair point, too. Now, this post is in no way intended as a dig at the chap who made these comments- indeed, I'm grateful to him for starting me thinking on the topic of 'seriousness' in game reviewing.
What should a review do? At it's most fundamental it should reveal some information about the thing being reviewed. Anything more than that is surely the responsibility and the choice of the reviewer. A serious game review, presumably, supports it's argument by providing scores/marks/stars/thumbs-up or thumbs-down/cow-pats or llama droppings. These marks will not only support the argument but demonstrate, in brief, an overview. But marks are subjective and often self-defeating- Gamespot has recently 'revamped' it's reviews by providing marks out of 10 in 0.5 intervals, and awarding good 'merits' and less good 'demerits' (Strong Multiplayer, Boobies on the Cover Art, May Give You Colon Cancer). Intended (I can only assume) to make the review process clearer, it only really obfuscates. Let us say a really 'good' game is an 8.5 or higher; a 9.0 is great; a 9.5 is brilliant; a 10 could only be perfect, and will therefore require inordinate amounts of caution to award. Cod4 and Assassin's Creed got 9.0. Crysis, though, got 9.5, so it's obviously way better. But Mass Effect only got 8.5- how fucking humiliating! Why even bother releasing the damn thing? These numbers are no use, and the merits and demerits are no better- it's like trying to create a review by slotting together a bunch of pre-fabricated thoughts and opinions, and we expect that to somehow tell us something? The UK version of PCGamer has never awarded a game more than 96%-not Half-Life 2, not Civilization, hell, not even the Horse Armour Mod for Oblivion (solid gold classics, all three). It's really backed itself into a corner, because if it ever awards a game more than 96% then it would have to be categorically, quantifiably, the best game ever. Ever. Either the game is the best game ever or their marking system is somehow flawed. One little percent is all it would take, and then there would be no way to justify that game not sitting pretty at the top of their 'best-of' list from now 'til Judgement Day.
It's easy to bash Gamespot (although, in this post Kane and Lynch world, it's becoming a bit too easy) It's fun too. But it's worth considering what else makes a review 'serious'. A prose style that focuses on the game without getting tangential would be good. I'm not knocking people who do want to write like this, because they provide a valuable and much-needed service for the community. At the same time, I see no reason why all reviews should take themselves seriously. If you're trawling the Escapist forums, looking at reviews by other users, chances are you already know a good deal about the games involved. I've never played Assassin's Creed, but I've read so many reviews and articles on it that, if I had to, I feel I could blag my way through on a conversation about it with some style. So why would the world need another 'serious' review? If I write about, let's say, Holocaust Denial or the bleak future for democracy in Pakistan then, by all means, take me seriously. If I'm writing about something where the biggest problem is that I can't obtain a specific magic spear then, please, take it with the appropriate barrel full of salt.
I suppose I think the ideal review would not need supporting by numbers or ratings to make it's feelings known. EDGE, an excellent magazine from the UK which can only be described as 'cerebral' (notwithstanding the occasional euphemistic connotations of 'cerebral' to mean 'pretentious'), provides a rating out of ten at the end of the review, but it treats it as a necessary evil, a shameful thing kept in a small box, hidden away. Much like my great-grandmother. How often can you accurately summarise a game with a number? Can I really say that the graphics in Mass Effect are a 9, or a 7, or the feeling of sand between one's toes on a beach at sunset? The armour is shiny, yes, and the special effects very special: conversely, the texture pop-in is spectacularly intrusive and the character's teeth look silly. How many marks is the industry standard to be docked for silly teeth? Fucked if I know, better consult the handbook. About the best I can normally say is that I have gut feelings. A gut feeling that I liked FFXII even though some of the more Machiavellian machinations may have escaped my attention. I can see the use of numbers to help collate the information for a site like Metacritic or RottenTomatoes, which in turn provides a valuable general overview of the market. But is it just the job of the reviewer to shoe-horn gut feelings into numbers or merit symbols? It's a fairly bleak mandate if it is. If I enjoy writing something, and other people, God willing, enjoy reading them, can't we all agree to suspend disbelief for a few minutes and look elsewhere for serious reviews?
Unsure as to whether or not to start a new topic on this, but I don't really like posting two huge chunks of text in the same thread. Seems oddly improper.
In a review of mine for FFXII a respondent asked 'How can I take this review seriously if you're going to 'knock off 8 points from the mark of any game that features a section where the player's character is captured by the law, imprisoned, then makes their escape, happily finding a treasure chest containing all their confiscated possessions.' It was a very good question. He went on to ask 'Or should I take it seriously when you admit to having absolutely no idea what was going on in the plot. It's an RPG. If you don't understand the storyline, is it possible that it's not the writers fault? It's not like the game was a David Lynch movie.' A fair point, too. Now, this post is in no way intended as a dig at the chap who made these comments- indeed, I'm grateful to him for starting me thinking on the topic of 'seriousness' in game reviewing.
What should a review do? At it's most fundamental it should reveal some information about the thing being reviewed. Anything more than that is surely the responsibility and the choice of the reviewer. A serious game review, presumably, supports it's argument by providing scores/marks/stars/thumbs-up or thumbs-down/cow-pats or llama droppings. These marks will not only support the argument but demonstrate, in brief, an overview. But marks are subjective and often self-defeating- Gamespot has recently 'revamped' it's reviews by providing marks out of 10 in 0.5 intervals, and awarding good 'merits' and less good 'demerits' (Strong Multiplayer, Boobies on the Cover Art, May Give You Colon Cancer). Intended (I can only assume) to make the review process clearer, it only really obfuscates. Let us say a really 'good' game is an 8.5 or higher; a 9.0 is great; a 9.5 is brilliant; a 10 could only be perfect, and will therefore require inordinate amounts of caution to award. Cod4 and Assassin's Creed got 9.0. Crysis, though, got 9.5, so it's obviously way better. But Mass Effect only got 8.5- how fucking humiliating! Why even bother releasing the damn thing? These numbers are no use, and the merits and demerits are no better- it's like trying to create a review by slotting together a bunch of pre-fabricated thoughts and opinions, and we expect that to somehow tell us something? The UK version of PCGamer has never awarded a game more than 96%-not Half-Life 2, not Civilization, hell, not even the Horse Armour Mod for Oblivion (solid gold classics, all three). It's really backed itself into a corner, because if it ever awards a game more than 96% then it would have to be categorically, quantifiably, the best game ever. Ever. Either the game is the best game ever or their marking system is somehow flawed. One little percent is all it would take, and then there would be no way to justify that game not sitting pretty at the top of their 'best-of' list from now 'til Judgement Day.
It's easy to bash Gamespot (although, in this post Kane and Lynch world, it's becoming a bit too easy) It's fun too. But it's worth considering what else makes a review 'serious'. A prose style that focuses on the game without getting tangential would be good. I'm not knocking people who do want to write like this, because they provide a valuable and much-needed service for the community. At the same time, I see no reason why all reviews should take themselves seriously. If you're trawling the Escapist forums, looking at reviews by other users, chances are you already know a good deal about the games involved. I've never played Assassin's Creed, but I've read so many reviews and articles on it that, if I had to, I feel I could blag my way through on a conversation about it with some style. So why would the world need another 'serious' review? If I write about, let's say, Holocaust Denial or the bleak future for democracy in Pakistan then, by all means, take me seriously. If I'm writing about something where the biggest problem is that I can't obtain a specific magic spear then, please, take it with the appropriate barrel full of salt.
I suppose I think the ideal review would not need supporting by numbers or ratings to make it's feelings known. EDGE, an excellent magazine from the UK which can only be described as 'cerebral' (notwithstanding the occasional euphemistic connotations of 'cerebral' to mean 'pretentious'), provides a rating out of ten at the end of the review, but it treats it as a necessary evil, a shameful thing kept in a small box, hidden away. Much like my great-grandmother. How often can you accurately summarise a game with a number? Can I really say that the graphics in Mass Effect are a 9, or a 7, or the feeling of sand between one's toes on a beach at sunset? The armour is shiny, yes, and the special effects very special: conversely, the texture pop-in is spectacularly intrusive and the character's teeth look silly. How many marks is the industry standard to be docked for silly teeth? Fucked if I know, better consult the handbook. About the best I can normally say is that I have gut feelings. A gut feeling that I liked FFXII even though some of the more Machiavellian machinations may have escaped my attention. I can see the use of numbers to help collate the information for a site like Metacritic or RottenTomatoes, which in turn provides a valuable general overview of the market. But is it just the job of the reviewer to shoe-horn gut feelings into numbers or merit symbols? It's a fairly bleak mandate if it is. If I enjoy writing something, and other people, God willing, enjoy reading them, can't we all agree to suspend disbelief for a few minutes and look elsewhere for serious reviews?
