In Defense of Game Criticism

We've all heard it. Hell, we've probably said it. "Don't take it so seriously, it's just game." Or perhaps, "People are too sensitive." Or, my personal favorite, "They just don't understand." As much as critics love to voice their opinions about games, they are just as often demonized by self-proclaimed adamant defenders of gaming. Here, problems arise from both sides. The critics who are constructive get attacked almost as often as those who seek the undoing of the game industry. Just to clarify, this blog post is not a defense of the latter, but rather a case for the former, for those who work to enter into a dialogue about what the cultural significance of video games. If games are indeed the artistic products that fans so desperately argue, then they must be subject to the same critical exercises that have been used to discuss art, literature, and film--which means taking the game architecture and narrative under consideration when evaluating them.

First, a disclaimer: I absolutely do not condone the actions of pundits and politicians who see games as the root of all evils in the world. The Jack Thompsons of the world have little say in this discussion, if only to provide an example of how not to be a game critic. Those who see violent video games as the cause of violent actions such as shootings, beatings, rape, or any other violence, not only lack a basic understanding of the relationship between gameplay and understanding, but also they diminish the severity of the crimes themselves. Blaming a video game for a school shooting is irresponsible because it dangerously equates the explosions of pixels across a computer screen to very real, very tragic physical actions, which devalues the physical harm of the victim. And, quite frankly, it's bullsh*t. Similarly, the sensationalism in the media about sex in games such as Mass Effect is equally stupid. While I still think games haven't really dealt with sex responsibly (the only exception maybe being Atlus' Catherine), getting parents and politicians up in arms about some titillation offers nothing but a colossal waste of air time. Sure, sex and violence have seen a drastic surge in game presence this generation, but the people who condemn games are often not the people who know the state of the gaming industry or are unfamiliar with the game title in question. Just watch the clip below to get an idea of how not to go about the discussion:

These are not the people I defend. Instead, I want to focus on the people who offer real critiques of the games they play. For example, Keza Macdonald's opinion piece "What the Hell is with that Hitman Trailer?" offers a valid discussion of why some people have a serious problem with the Hitman "Attack of the Saints" trailer:

Her argument is well-executed, pointing out specifics in the trailer that should give the viewer pause. She states the issue that concerns her very matter-of-factly, saying,

"Let’s be clear here: the problem is not that Agent 47 is graphically murdering a group of women, though that’s pretty nasty. It’s that it fetishizes the violence and sexualises the women, drawing a clear line between sex and graphic violence that makes the trailer really distressing to watch, and leaves you questioning who the hell it’s designed to appeal to."

Furthermore, her opinion is not an unpopular one. Grant Howitt at theguardian states that watching "a chap who is murdering these naughty, naughty nuns (with details that border on the pornographic – lingering arse and crotch shots, sprays of blood over cleavage … you get the idea) makes the viewing a little uncomfortable," and Dan Silver at Mirror News calls the trailer "a shameless piece of sexist tat designed to get the internet worked into a lather and millions of YouTube plays." While I think Silver and Howitt are of the same opinion, McDonald provides detailed analysis of the trailer to back up her statement, implicitly offering the reader to take into account his/her own reading of the nuances of the trailer. She ends her piece with a few questions--"Are we supposed to find this trailer appealing? If so, why? What is supposed to appeal to us about it – the violence, the sexy nuns, the slow-motion gun pans, the image of scantily clad women getting taught a brutal lesson?"--and then provides her own conclusion: "This isn’t cool. We shouldn’t shrug and accept this kind of marketing material as representative of what we, as gamers, want to see. Publishers need to stop these tactics. It’s not acceptable, and in the eyes of many, many people it does a lot more harm to Hitman Absolution’s image than good." Her writing brings together questions about violence, feminism, and spectacle as well as the central question of of what a trailer is supposed to do. This is what a critic does; asks challenging questions while providing her own opinion to spark discussion.

Then the comments section happened. Some comments offered good counterpoints, citing actual gameplay from the Hitman franchise, which often features brothels and sexual situations as well as the obvious gratuitous violence. But others just outright denied the problems the trailer presents and resort to attacking her for offering a feminist critique of the trailer. Reverse sexism is obviously a provocative lens to view the game trailer, but without offering a counterpoint with civility, the comment section devolves into a series or rants instead of giving people the opportunity to discuss the issues raised by the trailer. Feminism in video games is a great topic for discussion, yet a quick view of the comment section provides no indication that people actually know what feminism is. The critic, then, is reduced, through no real fault of her own, to a caricature of herself: a bra-burning rights activist instead of someone offering a legitimate interrogation of where she can situate her values in the game. It's not entitlement; it's investigation. It's keeping a critical eye on the industry that we love, that we want to see flourish, and that we all enjoy. But most importantly, the work of critic engages in a conversation about cultural values and how we read/play/view works of art.

Obviously, this is just one example. The problematic race issue is Resident Evil 5 brought similar criticism and controversy, and the more recent issue of the implicit rape in the new Tomb Raider game brings, again, the issue of female empowerment and victimization to the discussion table. It's healthy and though-provoking to discuss these issues, but it's not productive to automatically side with the game and demonize the critic outright. People should have their opinions. People should voice their opinions. People should, most definitely, defend their opinions. But wouldn't it be better to discuss them and engage with them with each other in ways that do not alienate our peers. It's damn good to disagree with critics, but it's even better when someone can do so by providing some sense of why he/she has come to that opinion.

I no doubt feel this way because I've been a teacher, an editor, and because I'm in the early stage of my dissertation. And I understand that it's hard to "talk" to each in the lewd alleys of a virtual community without anonymity making people much braver without the threat of consequence. But I cannot help but be disappointed when I see discussion boards turn into schoolyard sandboxes where name-calling and insults are the primary method of communication. It takes away from the function of criticism instead of sharpening it, and, without good criticism, the video game industry will inevitable stagnate, producing little of cultural, aesthetic, or (God forbid) entertainment value.

Cheers,

--David