Game criticism has evolved so completely from its early years to the point that many modern reviews would look wholly foreign to the ’80s, neon-jacket wearing kids who read Nintendo Power. Assuredly many outlets do still follow the basic framework established back then. A succinct summation of the game’s features, how well the story holds up, its replayability, etc.—these terms aren’t likely to go away, but they do demonstrate an advancement of the gaming lexicon.
The idea of a gaming vernacular is easily ridiculed. I partake in this practice all the time, spouting “gamer” in a snooty tone and espousing the pleasures of “visceral” or “atmospheric” games. Of course, I can’t deny that I have used these terms in my past reviews. Nowadays, many people consider these once en vogue terms entirely empty of meaning, having lost their initial impact through overuse and an entire industry misconstruing their meaning.
Calling a game “atmospheric” sounds silly now. What type of atmosphere? What does that even mean? It has become moot. This development is heartening, because gaming criticism’s move away from traditional buzzwords is what has helped many more obscure outlets produce some truly brilliant insight. For what it’s worth though, I think gaming critiques needed “atmospheric” to enter the industry in order to evolve.
As with any new medium, people have struggled to come up with the proper lexicon to describe video games. This plight may result in years of stagnation with an overreliance on the same words recycled constantly, but it also caused a consistent exploratory period. The platformer, racing and shooter genres emerged through the industry’s advancement. In the same way, somewhat gimmicky phrases like “replayability” emerged.
The creation of these new concepts came out of a gradual exploration of the medium. A poking and prodding by both the developers and critics created a give-and-take as they fashioned an entirely new section in Webster’s Dictionary. This industry-wide project is ever-expanding, as writers constantly search for appropriate terms to describe a revelatory game experience like QWOP.
However, this search for an expansive vocabulary is far from complete. With a very limited number of terms circling the drainpipe perpetually, it tends to result in an insular culture where people grasp at something familiar in the hopes of explaining a game whose precise definition eludes them. It perpetuates the process of comparison so prevalent in game criticism, a practice that belittles the individual accomplishments of each project.
Sure it’s really handy to call “Destiny” an interstellar “Borderlands” or say “Titanfall” is “Call of Duty” with mechs, but isn’t that a cop-out that ignores the singular merits of each title? The only other medium where I can see this being somewhat prevalent is music, where individual beats and sounds can bear a strong resemblance to tons of other bands.
Even in the auditory world it isn’t as prevalent compared to game descriptions that constantly call upon well-known titles to sell themselves. Just take a peek at the list of Kickstarter games that bill themselves using insane comparisons like “Earthbound” meets “Zelda” meets “Mario.” Boiling these products down to minute mash-ups is short-sighted and stems from the fact that people are still searching for the proper terms to define the medium.
This is part of the reason why I enjoy reading more interpretive reviews. They don’t necessarily have to settle on the nuts and bolts, eschewing a descriptive comparison to other titles in favor of focusing solely on the personal experience they had. There are plenty of outlets still grasping onto age-old terms to give players a quick elevator pitch for selling their friends on a particular game—and that’s perfectly okay. There will always be a market for more traditional reviews. In the collective gaming dictionary, everyone has a role as curator.
But as the industry advances, it’s informative to look at the type of overused tropes used in criticism. Powering through useless words is a tiresome exercise, but one which is necessary to discover a world where video games can be defined more clearly without the lazy reliance on comparing something to previously produced games. Developers are working to give players new experiences. In turn, critics owe it to them to find creative, fresh ways to describe their novel creations.
What newfangled video gamer vocabulary word is your favorite? Share it with Adam at arparis@wisc.edu.
