https://waypoint.vice.com/en_us/art...f-war-but-reserve-the-right-to-change-my-mind
Despite having played neither GoW or Bioshock Infinite myself, I found the thinking in this piece mirrored my own regarding other games.
This piece definitely compares with stuff I've been thinking about for a while now as I get older. Some time ago, I used to believe in the "totally objective reviews" claptrap, but as I come back to games I thought were unimpeachable, I find some of them hold up and some of them don't
So many things are situational too; I played the whole Metal Gear series with a friend a mere year after completing it alone, and it changed the way I felt about pretty much every entry in the series. MGS2 was a revelation the first time I played it, but the moments didn't hold up as well the second time. What seemed stunningly prescient when I played it in 2015 (my mouth was literally hanging open during the infamous codec call near the end) came off as a bunch of jargon and both-sides-ism given how current events have evolved in the last few years. Meanwhile MGS4's idea of an entire political system run into the ground by a rogue computer algorithm, which seemed utterly ridiculous to me playing for the first time, now seems strangely accurate to the direction things are going. The presence of my friend, who hadn't been exposed to the series before, also changed which moments and themes I reacted to as well. I don't even think my opinion on the games have changed permanently either, and I'm interested to see how my feelings further evolve if I come back to the series yet again.
I like what Klepek is putting down here, and I hope it's a conversation that continues among critics.
With everything else in life, the arguments and viewpoints of others influence my thinking. It's the same with video games, too.
Despite having played neither GoW or Bioshock Infinite myself, I found the thinking in this piece mirrored my own regarding other games.
I really liked the new God of War. It has problems—pacing is a mess in the second half, the absence of Kratos' wife underscores the game's broader avoidance of a series with a history of violent misogyny—but in broad strokes, I really liked it. It spoke to me as a new father, and as someone who, like Kratos, looks back at their older self in embarrassment, cherishing the growth that comes from getting older. (I have not killed any Greek gods, but it's all relative.)
That said, I reserve the right to change my mind; it is not my settled opinion on this cultural artifact. My personal reading of God of War informed the 2,000-something word review published on Waypoint, but it reflects a fixed moment in time, when I played through a very long game largely in isolation, left only to my own thoughts, impressions, and reactions. I then wrote a lot of words very quickly.
Though I haven't played it since 2013, I still think about BioShock Infinite a lot.
After finishing BioShock Infinite, I was over the moon. Columbia wasn't Rapture, but it was a sprawling, ambitious science fiction story that checkmarked all the boxes Patrick Klepek looks for. Combat was a wash, and the multiple lighthouses a boring trope, but it pitched itself and felt like a capital s Serious video game. This was a story that had something to say about race, politics, and the messy ways conflict and power corrupt even those with the best intentions. If you wanted video games to be seen as art, we needed more BioShock Infinites, and as someone who was, at the time, trying to transition to more serious criticism, this fit.
When the game came out, everything supported my initial reading. Reviews dropped, and everyone liked the game. Not only was it good, it seemed important.
Then, others weighed in. Specifically, people outside the establishment game reviewing cognoscenti, a small group of individuals who tend to review the "big" games, and thus set the tone for how a game is perceived and talked about. (I'm part of this, and have been for a long time.) As critics like Waypoint's Austin Walker ("I Can See My House From Here: Bioshock Infinite, Nostalgia, and The Uncanny"), Anjin Anhut ("Infinite Privilege"), Gary Alexander ("Columbia: Problematic Racism Theme Park"), Leigh Alexander (" BioShock Infinite: Now Is The Best Time"), and others published essays, my calculus changed. I'd taken so much of BioShock Infinite's at face value, and mistook a game projecting as serious to mean it was also "right."
This piece definitely compares with stuff I've been thinking about for a while now as I get older. Some time ago, I used to believe in the "totally objective reviews" claptrap, but as I come back to games I thought were unimpeachable, I find some of them hold up and some of them don't
So many things are situational too; I played the whole Metal Gear series with a friend a mere year after completing it alone, and it changed the way I felt about pretty much every entry in the series. MGS2 was a revelation the first time I played it, but the moments didn't hold up as well the second time. What seemed stunningly prescient when I played it in 2015 (my mouth was literally hanging open during the infamous codec call near the end) came off as a bunch of jargon and both-sides-ism given how current events have evolved in the last few years. Meanwhile MGS4's idea of an entire political system run into the ground by a rogue computer algorithm, which seemed utterly ridiculous to me playing for the first time, now seems strangely accurate to the direction things are going. The presence of my friend, who hadn't been exposed to the series before, also changed which moments and themes I reacted to as well. I don't even think my opinion on the games have changed permanently either, and I'm interested to see how my feelings further evolve if I come back to the series yet again.
Ocarina of Time, on the other hand, will be a masterpiece forever.
I like what Klepek is putting down here, and I hope it's a conversation that continues among critics.
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