I think I have dedicated my life to writing things that nobody wants to read.
When I started reviewing games, it was for a love of games and a love of writing. I still have both. Then I started to take great pride in offering advice — both to consumers who wanted to spend their money wisely, and to developers/publishers who didn’t have an objective perspective on their own work. As long as my criticism can be constructive, I feel I’m doing the right thing.
But increasingly, the developers don’t want to read reviews that aren’t positive. This isn’t just cases of creators feeling that they’re misunderstood; this is because more and more often, their compensation and bonuses are tied to the average review score. Pointing out flaws in their games takes money out of their pocket. They don’t want to hear that the frame rate lagged or the tutorial was unclear. They want to hear that they did a good job, and as a result, that their daughter can get those braces after all.
Meanwhile, the consumer wants to know that the opinions they’ve already formed about a game — based on previews and screenshots and simple desires that every fan comes up with naturally — are right. They don’t want bad news, because they might lose face for supporting a game that their friends have already heard them endorse. The review has to prove that they were right. And when the review doesn’t do that, they don’t trust “the media” because “the media” has become tainted and corrupt. Well, that’s what they’ve heard anyway, and that means it’s true.
So we’ve got unrealistic expectations, unrelated baggage, and closed minds at work in both potential audiences. Were I the voice of the people, I could feel comfortable pushing back to creators who take personal offense and say, “Please understand that I represent the end user first and foremost.” Or if I felt like the creative community didn’t immediately dread my review, I could turn to the audience and say, “This feedback is part of the process of making new and better games.” But that’s not the case. I feel like developers hate reviews and readers hate reviews.
And because of those reactions are based on personal or career biases, I’m often labeled…biased. Whether the review gives a good score or a bad score, whether it’s clearly written or aspires to be creatively entertaining in its own right, I’m basically a hack who hasn’t played the full game, doesn’t understand the genre, isn’t qualified to pass judgment on anything or anybody, and is certainly on someone’s payroll anyway.
They can’t prove it, but nobody has to. And they won’t ask me directly, because I’d only lie. Isn’t that convenient?
Boo hoo, woe is me, welcome to the martyrdome. I know. But I have always taken my responisbilities seriously, and I do feel, more often than not, that my work is an annoyance to the very people I’m trying to help.
UPDATE 9/9: It would seem that a lot of people misinterpreted the latter half of this post, and it’s starting to get passed around. Subtlety is apparently dead; I should have put quotes around the “hack” stuff to suggest that this is not what I am saying, but what many other people say about me and reviewers like me. Folks, here it is without the sarcasm: I do understand the genres I review, I do play the games, I do feel that 15 years experience is enough to pass informed and responsible judgment, and I am not on any game publisher’s payroll. I’m saying that for some people, it’s easier to discredit a reviewer than give his or her dissenting opinion any credence. To them, “I’m just a hack,” etcetra. And they can’t prove anything they allege, but they don’t have to, because others want to believe the bad stuff, too.
I’ve been noticing the same thing. Nobody is ever happy with a review score. Even if people wanted a game to score well, you’re immediately in Epic’s pocket the second you say Unreal III is fun. Despite the fact that you’re the readers’ peer, they refuse to acknowledge the fact that you actually play games because you’re a gamer and not because you get an extra buck for telling people that Gears of War was fucking awesome, or that Rock Band is worth their time (and that Lost really isn’t).
As a warning, this following paragraph is going to sounds like unadulterated ass-kissing; it’s not.
I started reading OXM in December 07, I think, when I got my 360. I fell in love with the editorial content, the design, everything. It immediately became my favorite mag (even more so than my beloved and dearly departed OPM)and I felt that each critic had a unique voice that was discernible. I could read a Corey or Francesca review and realize that it was different than Dan, Cameron, Paul or Casey — and that’s saying a lot when you can pick out the freelancers. Looks like you know how to pick ‘em
— and not only did I associate each writer with various personal preferences, but they were all open minded and able to make me consider a game I didn’t give a damn about, or cautiously warn me that Dark Sector really isn’t worth playing after all.
It helps when you want to write for a magazine to have one that is as editorially sound as OXM. I’m still a fan, and I love to read each and every review no matter how little I care about it (What’s up, Nascar?) because I like to know what these people think, and how I can associate my personal gaming likes and dislikes with them.
Maybe I’m tainted by having such an interest in the medium –and now I’m a money grubbing greedy liar, too, I guess– but as someone who is interested in gaming, and goes through the effort to pay for the magazine, I like to get as much out of that as I can. Even if I disagree with someone in the magazine, I still appreciate their input and ALWAYS take it in to consideration when going to pick something up (or not).
I think that the people who care about reviews, the text, and the message are probably the majority, despite the massive amount of stupid banter on the Intertron. Consider OXM’s subscriber base, newsstand customers and online visitors; those numbers no doubt outweigh the whiny assholes by metric tonnes (or “tons,” if you’re not Canadian).
I still love ya, buddy.
xoxoxo <3
Your Honor, ladies and gentleman of the audience, I don’t think it’s fair to call my client’s reviews pointless. Sure, the blackout was a big problem for everybody. I was trapped in an elevator for two hours and I had to make the whole time. But I don’t blame him. Because one time, I turned into a dog and he helped me. Thank you.
“Asking a game reviewer to be able to competently review all genres of a game is like asking them to be a Construction worker, Truck Driver, Surgeon, Lawyer, Dentist, Law Official, Waiter, and Archeologist all rolled up in one.”
True, there are, in my experience, very few reviewers qualified for this sort of genre wide expertise, and – of course – these people tend to be the sort of polymaths who are excellent writers as well.
But you’ll find very few reputable sites or magazines that do not play to their writers’ strengths. They’ll have an RPG person, an MMO person, a shooter person, a strategy guy (almost always a guy…). Good editors use the skill sets their writers have.
And, to look at your pizza example, if someone recommended you crappy pizza, you probably wouldn’t trust that person’s pizza recommendations ever again, right? Game reviews are the same. Some people will have similar tastes as you, but most will be a little different. Some will be very divergent from what you enjoy. Read bylines and find someone whose opinion you trust. And it may not be in the popular gaming press at all.
And if you’re paying ten dollars a month for a magazine, you really need to look into subscribing. You can get most American mags for a year for less than 25.