Gaming journalism hits new lows with Cyberpunk 2077
After a decade of practicing something resembling gaming journalism — as much as budgets allowed — I’m one of the last people that need to hear your Twitter rant on how the industry is in the gutter. I know, because I’m still washing off the stench now, one full year removed from that world.
Yet after experiencing the release of Cyberpunk 2077 from the perspective of a consumer, I feel a desire to add to this online echo chamber for the first time ever. As there is, unfortunately, more to be said on the topic; now more than ever.
But there’s no accounting for taste?
This classical maxim is still parroted so often that you’d think ancient Romans were sensible video game aficionados. And usually for all the wrong reasons, i.e. shutting down the first promise of a discussion on anything.
I don’t deem video game opinions a particularly problematic sphere in that regard. Just one in which I’m personally invested and have witnessed myriad examples of this agree-to-disagree mentality prevailing before any agreements were ever put forward.
Why is that a problem when discussing video game reviews? Because it’s a telltale sign that your work is garbage.
“Will no one rid me of these meddlesome standards?”
Enter Cyberpunk 2077 and the dozens of awards and laurels from legitimate publications it received in the run-up to its disasterclass of a release.
After spending over 50 hours watching the game fall apart on this year’s flagship PC hardware, I started discussing Cyberpunk 2077 with other day-one buyers, then realized that I’ve actually been experiencing a desirable performance level.
I will limit my bewilderment to outlets reputable enough to warrant an OpenCritic listing while simultaneously proclaiming Cyberpunk 2077 is pretty darn close to something resembling perfection. Don’t get too caught up in arbitrary scores and instead look for “masterpiece” labels and the like. Those are the connoisseurs that I did not expect to see in such a force after it turned out Cyberpunk 2077 is in shambles.
Especially as it was only recently that the industry did wonderfully with handling another high-pressure assignment in Death Stranding. Kojima’s last game was arguably even more polarizing and bizarre, not to mention sent alongside a comparably crippling embargo. Yet it was much more accurately reported on.
Sure, we could argue there’s no way I can prove some of these brave souls proclaiming Cyberpunk to be a masterpiece did not experience zero bugs, found every mechanic in the game to be amazing, and had Keanu gift him a cure for real-world cancer in the closing moments of the game after he unlocked a super special, personalized ending.
But this isn’t a trial, and it certainly isn’t some conspiracy: just a bunch of people paid to know better giving in to the pressure and all the other insanity surrounding Cyberpunk 2077, consequently dolling out horrible purchase advice.
As you might have heard in the meantime, Cyberpunk 2077 launched in an alpha state, at best: the main story is playable from start to finish, the rest is a coin flip between being laughably broken and not existing in the first place. And that’s after a week of daily patches. Whatever versions the reviewers were given to play were inarguably worse.
No one becomes a games journo because they hate games, but have so many grown to hate being games journos that they’re giving out malicious advice? I hope not, but is it just incompetence, then? Does anyone seriously think this is good enough to warrant glowing recommendations?
This is underlined by one of the most ridiculous embargoes that graced the industry in recent memory: CD Projekt Red required reviewers to only use official footage provided by its marketing department if they were to release their Cyberpunk 2077 impressions on December 7th, three days from its actual market debut. So, the requirement was to do the marketing department’s job for free.
It was to be expected that only a few reviewers would feel they could afford to refuse those demands. Most had the decision made for them on the basis of wanting to keep their jobs at all costs. Hardly a surprise for a sector denied employment for centuries. Especially in a year like this.
Likewise, the fact that CDPR abused its fan-favorite status in order to dump Cyberpunk 2077 onto the market in time for the holiday season is hardly shocking. The brutally efficient fashion in which it did so is another matter, but ultimately, businesses gonna business, especially those owned by the ever-fickle public.
I’m much more concerned about a consistently increasing number of veteran journos willing to just go with the flow. Remembering they’re meant to be informing the public instead of jumping when their corpo overlords say “jump” and ditching personal gameplay footage when they hear “cut”. Why aid a conglomerate in a smash-and-grab when they have the resources to do right by everyone?
A video game review isn’t rocket science
If you have any experience in this industry, I’d love to hear your two cents, but we’ll probably agree on what the fundamental purpose of any entertainment media review is.
No matter the tackled genre, publication format, or target audience, I’d say even the most decisively average prospects shouldn’t take more than a few tries with limited editor feedback in between before their content:
- takes no longer than 5–10 minutes to consume
- summarizes their strongest impressions of a given game
- clearly describes what kind of a gamer they are
Other competencies such as good grammar, eloquent diction, a sense of humor, strong After Effects skills, applicable genre experience, development insights, historical knowledge, and fame can all amplify the end result. But they’re absolutely non-essential to ensuring your opinion is effectively communicated, which alone makes it universally informative even if your audience ends up vehemently disagreeing with you.
5/7, jank/cyberpunk, not/masterpiece?
And scores? Completely arbitrary constructs that add nothing to the overall package; the only reason they still exist in 2020 is to rile people up. They’re meaningless at best and dangerously misleading at worst, as Cyberpunk 2077 clearly demonstrates.
I don’t want to turn this into a review of Cyberpunk 2077, but I’m baffled at how anyone can, in good conscience, label this current excuse for a finished product as a “masterpiece” and recommend full-price purchases en masse.
And the fact that dozens of seasoned journos who should and do know better did so regardless is… well, it’s disheartening. Not least because they definitely don’t have cozy new public relations jobs waiting for them at CDPR just because they agreed to go with the charade.
Speaking of pitiful, as unpredictable as software development is, CDPR’s project management is truly one for the history books. As pushing the company into another extensive period of crunching, only to deliver a game that looks like it’s years away from the market is an impressively poor showing. Especially given how much its marketing unit simultaneously did to erode what little remains of gaming journalism standards nowadays.
Still genuinely hoping for the best
Fingers crossed all that Cyberpunk 2077 cash buys CDPR some leadership seminar tickets. And I’m also hoping the game eventually gets fixed because underneath all those performance issues, systems that don’t work at all, interfaces that don’t make sense, and false or broken promises, there is significant potential that could still be fulfilled.
Most notably, Cyberpunk 2077 features some genuinely pioneering quest design on an unprecedented scale, compelling set pieces, and an interesting cast of characters, all surrounded by an intoxicating atmosphere that I really want to return to without all the jank.
