Can someone, anyone, show me where it is written in the Video Game Reviewer Guidebook that each and every video game must innovate? At what point in time did it become a prerequisite that a new game in a familiar, popular franchise must suddenly change everything about what made people enjoy it in the first place? When it comes to new games, when did it become the equivalent of a crime against creativity to focus on doing something really well instead of doing something new just for the sake of it?
This is just one of the many hypocrisies that made me start blogging in the first place. It seems that all so-called professional reviewers take their jobs as art critics so seriously that they've forgotten the first and only rule that truly matters in gaming: The goal is always to have fun.
Alice: Madness Returns will hit store shelves today and tomorrow (depending on where you live), and already it's getting the exact sort of reviews I predicted. Though I've ditched grading or scoring games myself, I must admit that the majority of sixes and sevens the game is receiving is just about right, but the justification for them is often the problem.
Giving Madness Returns a six because the controls are sometimes spotty, or the gameplay is somewhat tedious, or even for using some ugly textures is something I can agree with. To suggest that the score is deserved merely because the game fails to bring anything new to the table is ludicrous. Alice is a capable platformer with some flaws, the least of which is that it doesn't stray too far from the standard platforming fare and try to be something it's not.
Would these type of reviewers prefer developers cram in as many genres as possible, creating a jumbled mess of a game with a severe identity crisis? We've all seen these same folk rail against games that do that, so what, then, do they expect from a game that plants its feet firmly in one genre?
Innovation can be a dangerous game. Doing something new just to differentiate your game from the pack can have disastrous consequences if said innovation isn't fun or intuitive. It's even riskier when you go out on a limb with a well-known franchise and change its core mechanics. It worked well when Konami did it with Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, marrying elements of the classic 2D platformers with RPG-style character customization and giving the player more freedom to explore. It backfired when they did it again with Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, which in my mind is a pale imitation of the far superior God of War series.
Lords of Shadow was a disappointment to me, not because it imitates another franchise, but because it failed to live up to the standard set by that which it so strongly resembled. If you're going to copy someone else's work, you have to make sure your game is on par with it. Lords of Shadow lacked the Castlevania vibe, and the gameplay never matched up to anything it tried to emulate, be it God of War's frantic combat, or Shadow of the Colossus' epic boss battles. It wasn't that it was unoriginal; it just wasn't fun. What I wouldn't give for an HD Metroidvania-style game, even if it's something I've played half a dozen times, in favor of this soulless, boring retread.
Those who cry for originality in every game often contradict themselves. When most reviewers criticized the relatively dull combat of Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, Ubisoft took their complaints to heart and made improved combat mechanics one of the sequel's focuses. Instead of realizing that they were a direct result of the change, reviewers and fans alike criticized the changes in focus (not to mention the game's darker tone) for taking the player out of the exquisitely crafted platforming elements too frequently.
You could argue that Ubisoft could have struck a better balance between the two elements of their franchise, but in truth, there wasn't that much wrong with the combat in The Sands of Time. It wasn't the most exciting aspect of the game, or the deepest, reflex-intensive combat ever seen, but it also wasn't the title's focus. It was there to break up the masterful platforming - more of a distraction than anything until the admittedly underwhelming final battle.
Lest any reviewer get too full of themselves, let me remind you that you're nothing more than an opinion-giver. That's what your career boils down to. You get paid to give your opinion in a completely subjective medium. You can qualify complaints of poor controls, technical hiccups, and outdated graphics or audio, but when it comes to a game's most important element - the fun factor - you can only state your personal opinon. Each and every player's reaction will likely be different, which is why I've never enjoyed the much-lauded Grand Theft Auto series that much, and was able to find entertainment value in so-called mediocre games like Dragon's Lair 3D and Alice: Madness Returns. My own personal bias towards those games enhances my enjoyment, in spite of their faults.
The one thing I do not consider is whether Alice, the example in this case, brings anything new to the table. It doesn't. There's nothing there I haven't seen before, even when it briefly shifts to a horizonal shoot 'em up or a 2D platformer. But then there wasn't much in New Super Mario Bros. for the Nintendo DS I hadn't seen before either, and that didn't stop most critics from praising that game, despite it playing very much like a 25-year-old title.
Innovation, or lack of, should never be a factor when it comes to scoring a game. Regardless of what I think of the very notion of assigning a number or letter to a game's quality, the fact that it adheres to a tried and true formula should never be a reason to deduct points as long as it succeeds in replicating a genre's core mechanics in an entertaining way. Likewise, innovation should only be praised if what it brings to the table truly makes the game better. Being different just for the sake of being different doesn't matter if it's implemented poorly or makes a game overly complex, for example.
There's nothing wrong with sticking to a formula and trying to perfect it instead of constantly adding new ingredients to the mix. The only time rehashing ideas becomes a problem is when the gameplay fails. Duke Nukem Forever isn't a bad game because it's stuck in the 90s and lacks many of the innovations we've become used to in modern shooters. In reality, it incorporates several of those such as vehicular levels and regenerating health bars.
Duke Nukem Forever is a bad game because it just isn't any fun to play. If the problem is that it were too similar to its predecessor, Duke Nukem 3D, that's a good problem to have because Duke 3D is still one of the most mindlessly fun shooters ever, even if it's dated. Likewise, the Serious Sam series has built its reputation on hardcore, old school twitch gaming and is even more simplified than Duke Nukem Forever is, yet it remains enjoyable because it does what it sets out to do remarkably well.
I'll admit that too much of a good thing can stagnate a genre. I'm not suggesting that all developers stop trying to innovate and try new things, but only if it will benefit their game. First-person shooters are a dime-a-dozen, and most of them are little more than reskinned versions of the same game, but a player always knows when they're playing something exceptional. Going back to my earlier example, Alice: Madness Returns falls short of the quality found in a Mario game, and the crime isn't that they're similar or one lacks innovation, but that one simply isn't as fun as the other.
I understand why sites assign scores to their reviews. People have short attention spans, and most of them want to look at the score and make their determination about whether to play a particular game rather than read a lengthy review. However, when scoring games, don't ask yourself, "What does this bring to the table?". Instead, ask yourself one simple question: "Is it fun?" Everything else takes a backseat to that question.
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