by fatherwags [Richard Wagner]

The numbers don’t lie: on Metacritic.com, the average of the reviewer scores for Too Human (TH) is 65/100, while the averages of gamer scores for the same game are 7.3/10. And while those are certainly numbers, numbers don’t tell stories; what’s missing from these particular numbers is that, for many gamers, the entertainment value of TH isn’t reflected in the scores assigned by professional games journalists.

Two recent podcasts, 1UpYours (September 5, 2008) and KOXM (Episode 130, August 29, 2008), discussed the gap between the review scores of Too Human and the obvious enjoyment many listeners are experiencing as they play the game. The former podcast engaged in some basic analysis of this phenomenon while the latter largely dismissed the difference as being caused by gamers’ naïveté, but neither did much to illuminate the implications or causes of this discrepancy.

What does it matter if a player’s experience of a game differs, or many players’ experiences of a game differ, from the experience of a game reviewer? In most cases it doesn’t.

While some games certainly elicit blind and rabid enthusiasm from a certain segment of the gaming community, regardless of flaws, this wasn’t entirely the case with Too Human. Most of the supporters of the game weren’t denying or minimizing the legitimate problems with the game (the occasionally ineffective camera angle; destructible boss arenas suggesting usefulness, but offering little practicality; weak narrative development), or failing to recognize possible design flaws (the copious amount of loot— particularly the useless loot at higher levels; inelegant menus, and repetitive gameplay), nor were they ignoring changes to the planned game design (2-player co-op rather than 4-player). The heart of the argument presented by many gamers was that despite these issues the game was more fun, engaging, and worthy of a financial and temporal investment than the review scores suggested.

These supporters weren’t rampant, ignorant, fanboys/girls denying obvious errors, flaming those with differing opinions, and attacking the woman/manhood of people who tried to voice dissent—these were intelligent, experienced gamers articulating a puzzling aberration between their experiences and those of the gaming press.

How did this aberration come to exist?

One possibility is that game reviewers are tasked with evaluating the narrative quality, technical competence, and visual artistry of games under circumstances that, in many cases, make having fun with a game, at best, highly unlikely, and at worst, nearly impossible. Many of us dream of having the job of a game journalist, but the reality is far less pleasant than we would care to admit. Of course they get to see and play games long before other people, but they are also forced to play games under tight time-limits and with the constant pressure of other work and other games awaiting their attention; not to mention other commitments unrelated to digital entertainment. I’m not so sure I would enjoy gaming—any gaming—if I felt forced to rush through games in order to meet a deadline. With these kinds of conditions imposed, it’s not surprising such differing opinions are formed compared to those of us when playing purely for fun and without such limitations.

Other potential causes are the ways that different media outlets think about and treat their reviews. For some outlets, a review is a means to an end: for example, promising a positive review to a developer or publisher in exchange for a timed exclusive on the review or in order to secure a future favour, all in the hopes of selling more magazines. For others, a review is a buyer’s guide, attempting to either provide people with information about their buying decisions or influence people’s buying decisions to coincide with the tastes of the editorial staff. For still others, a review is a marketing strategy to help sell more games to more people. And possibly, for just a very few others, a review is an account of one person’s experience when playing a game. It’s not gospel from a divine figure and it’s not blasphemy from a damned figure; it’s just an account of one experience with a game.

What does it matter if a player’s experience of a game differs, or many players’ experiences of a game differ, from the experience of a game reviewer? In most cases it doesn’t. Many people don’t feel particularly compelled to log onto a forum and register their disagreement with a review score, partly because many people don’t think of quantifying their experiences with a number.

But in this case it does seem to matter to more than just a few oddly devoted fans. In this case the division between gamers and reviewers seems to suggest a fundamental crisis with the relationship between media and consumers –- problems with the media outlet not being trustworthy or not being attuned to the tastes of the gamers the media is being marketed to, or a problem with the expectations of the gamer; perhaps problems with all of the above.

Maybe a media outlet can no longer be trusted, or maybe they never could be trusted to provide the type and amount of information and resources necessary to be as objective, reliable, and trustworthy as some have believed them to be. Maybe a media outlet has lost touch with the interests of the gamers consuming the media, or maybe it’s just the natural consequence of people with individual tastes and experiences being placed in the role of arbiter for the masses. Maybe gamers expect that the media they consume is an adequate reflection of their own peculiar tastes—that purchases can sufficiently and objectively provide an accurate portrayal of such. Are those expectations  unrealistic?

Personally, the sources of information I rely on to inform my choices about games seem to have functioned perfectly fine, despite the difference between my experience with Too Human and those of the people writing game reviews. The demo was enjoyable and gave an accurate view of the game, which made me want to play more. Most of what were identified as flaws in the final game were clearly present in the demo, so I didn’t feel tricked or duped by a perfect and polished ten minute experience that inaccurately represented the flaws and limitations of the final product. The reviewers wrote about their experiences and, in most cases, justified, and continue to justify, their opinions with relevant and reasonable support. Gamers who enjoyed the game shared their opinions in forums and on podcasts and helped me realize that I’m not some psychotic, who has lost all judgement; gamers who disliked the game also shared their opinions with varying degrees of coherence and persuasiveness. And numbers, statistics, and Meta-Critic scores have played absolutely no part in influencing and affecting my experience with the game, because my experience is not a number (regardless of the number of seconds I’ve played or the number of goblins I’ve killed). I can understand why this game might not appeal to certain people, just as I understand why it does appeal to others. Like many others, I can appreciate the flaws and problems with the game, but I also know how enjoyable and addictive the game can be. Not because it’s the only loot collecting game on the Xbox 360, but because there are many aspects of the game that are enjoyable: the anticipation of new and better equipment with increasingly wacky names, the rune quests that focus your game experience while offering an ongoing sense of accomplishment beyond just defeating another wave of enemies, the variety and strategy of different attacks and trying to find the most efficient and impressive means of dispatching enemies, the character customization, and the amusement of sharing those experiences with another person. Reviewers have noted these and other strengths of the game, but they have also taken note of its faults, maybe rightfully so and maybe not.

It is only when reviews and assigned scores are taken without context, without consideration, and without independent thought, that a difference between those scores and gamers’ experiences becomes a problem. In an age when subjective and limited reviews are posted in the forums of gaming communities nearly as quickly as on the websites of major media outlets, and those reviews are posted by people you know, have played games with in the past, and whose tastes you understand and trust, do numbers assigned by people you don’t know matter simply because they’re published on paper and sold in a store or on a website created by a media outlet?

As I’ve played Too Human, mine has been an experience clearly felt; occasionally put into words, and completely validated, regardless of the numbers, scores, grades, or comments imposed on that experience by others. I’m just glad that my opinion can remain my own and doesn’t have to be held up as a definitive and objective judgement, when my experiences—like everyone else’s—are anything but.