What purpose do videogame reviews serve? For that matter, what purpose does any entertainment review serve, be it film, book, music, etc? The answers to such questions can be numerous and subjective. Reviewers have the ability to increase the relevance of a certain medium.

They can place certain instances of a medium in prevalent social contexts, cementing an instance's place in history. They can even alter social positions or contexts through commentary. Perhaps more pragmatically, reviewers can inform readers of the reasons behind prevalent emotional reactions to a popular instance of entertainment.

As I see it, there are two encompassing purposes behind all entertainment review. The first is to inform consumers of whether or not they will find value in a title. The second is to provide feedback for developers, who would otherwise only have financial returns as a means for evaluating their piece of work. Statements made by reviewers can typically fulfill both purposes simultaneously.

Unfortunately, when it comes to the medium of videogames, I almost never read reviews. As a consumer, I find that videogame reviews typically do not provide me with an idea of whether or not I will find emotional value in a game. Entertainment at its core is about eliciting desired emotions from the consumer.

Given their interactive nature, videogames can provide a myriad of primal or adrenaline-based emotions such as excitement, horror, or rage. Through story, artistic design, and atmosphere, videogames can also tap into more complex emotions such as inspiration, passion, and depression.

Videogame reviews, in my experience, have a tendency to ignore such emotional impact and focus on the summarization of gameplay and story.

Not only is this practice immensely redundant (equivalent information can be easily found through marketing campaigns, trailers, and even viewing the back of the box), it contributes nothing to the discussion of emotional impact.

It can even spoil the experience of actually playing a game by giving away too much of the gameplay mechanics and story. Unfortunately, such material can often make up the bulk of a review.

Further, such practices in videogame reviews can only become even more prevalent through the championing of objectivity in reviews. An objective review is not a review at all; it is simply a summary or synopsis. Such so-called reviews can fulfill neither of the previously mentioned purposes of entertainment review.

In an exercise aimed at determining how I can write reviews for consumers who have a similar outlook, I have selected a number of entertainment reviews from the third most circulated newspaper in the United States, The New York Times.

Using these articles, I hope to evaluate how varying aspects of the critiquing process contribute to the two encompassing purposes of review. The articles selected address four distinct entertainment media: film, books, music, and food.

Stand Up and Deliver

The videogame industry is often compared to the film industry, and with good reason. Perhaps no two mediums share more of a sensory experience than videogames and film. Both depend on visuals through the creation of "moving pictures," both rely heavily on sound in dialogue and ambience, and both exist as a means for telling a story.

Beyond the aesthetic similarities, videogames were created and are being popularized during a time in which films were and are the most prevalent form of entertainment. Competition and comparison between the two mediums is natural.

In Stand Up and Deliver, Manohla Dargis reviews the newly released film Funny People. Similar to most videogame reviews, Dargis' review is dominated by a summarization of the plot.

"Shortly after the movie opens, George learns that he has a rare, almost certainly fatal blood disease. Shaken up, he returns home and watches images of himself on five television screens in his mansion..."

"The first section of ‘Funny People' buzzes along on George and Ira's relationship and the modestly comic, often unsettling give and take between the famous and the not famous..."

Throughout that summarization, Dargis provides a shallow evaluation of many filmic aspects such as writing and acting.

"The stand-up scenes, with their bad lighting and air of flop-sweat, have the sting of truth. But they are also disappointingly brief, while the onstage routines... are neither especially funny nor memorable."

"...Mr. Sandler doesn't have the necessary acting technique or even the natural warmth to convince you that his character cares about anyone else..."

The structure of and subject matter in this article is extremely similar to many videogame reviews, which is not unexpected. How does it fulfill the purposes of review? In terms of providing feedback for the developer, the review certainly provides judgment of Judd Apatow's work.

However, it falls short in providing the consumer with an idea of how they will respond to the film. Because Dargis does not provide reasons behind her evaluation, or an idea of her point of view, the review essentially leaves the reader in the dark.

I do not know if my sense of humor is similar to hers, nor do I know if my expectations are similar to hers. As a result, how can I agree or disagree with her assessment prior to actually viewing the film?

Racial Insults and Quiet Bravery in 1960s Mississippi

Books are of course not visually nor aurally oriented. However, they can share similar aspects with videogames in the creation of characters and story.

Little difference exists between Racial Insults and Quiet Bravery in 1960s Mississippi, Janet Maslin's review of The Help by Kathryn Stockett, and Dargis' review of "Funny People."

However, one difference in particular stands out. Instead of a shallow and unsupported judgment of the material, Maslin provides reasons for her evaluation; an evaluation that is geared towards consumers as opposed to herself.

"The two principal maid characters, the lovingly maternal Aibileen and the angry, scrappy Minny, leap off the page in all their warm, three-dimensional glory. Book groups armed with hankies will talk and talk about their quiet bravery and the outrageous insults dished out by their vain, racist employers."

"Miss Hilly is enough of a witch for readers to wait eagerly for a house to fall on her... Sounding decades older than Skeeter even though the two were college roommates, Hilly shrieks villainously about the virtues of segregation and the rectitude of Mississippi's politicians."

Maslin's review even provides a social context for the book.

"The trouble on the pages of Skeeter's book is nothing compared with the trouble Ms. Stockett's real book risks getting into. Here is a debut novel by a Southern-born white author who renders black maids' voices in thick, dated dialect."

Maslin's review is rife with summarization that verges on spoiler material, just as Dargis' review was. However, the plot of the book is not discussed solely for discussion's sake. In utilizing some of that synopsis to provide reasons behind her opinions of the material, Maslin's review becomes much more useful to the consumer.

Synth From Depeche Mode at Madison Square Garden

Perhaps the most abstract and obscure of all entertainment review is music review. With little to no story or characters, music can be a very personal experience. Synth From Depeche Mode at Madison Square Garden, a review of a Depeche Mode concert by Jon Caramanica, certainly reflects this.

Summarization of the concert certainly occurs, however it is much more appropriate for this subject matter, as opposed to videogames, movies, and books.

"First appearing in a black blazer... and slicked-back hair, Mr. Gahan was debonair and feline, spinning like a figure skater and contorting his body, if not his voice."

"Oddly, for surprisingly long stretches Mr. Fletcher merely stood behind his bay of keyboards, shaking his hips or grinning or both. Or neither."

Similar to Dargis, Caramanica provides an evaluation of the band and their songs without any reason. In fact, the evaluation is so obscure and abstract that it can be hard for the consumer to discern how Caramania feels about the music sometimes.

"In April Depeche Mode... released its 12^th studio album... on which it again feels like a young band - in this case a young band aspiring to make records like the ones Depeche Mode made in the ‘80s. It's artful but not emphatic, overlooking that what set Depeche Mode apart from its softer peers was the hard clang of synth against synth against drums against more synths."

"The albums of that era were harsh, seductive, often dissolute documents of eroticism and power, or eroticism and vulnerability, depending on the song."

Suffice it to say I have a hard time seeing how this music review fulfills either the consumer or the developer purposes.

The Corner of Solicitude and Plenty

Restaurants are not typically thrown into the category of entertainment along with videogames and movies. They utilize senses, namely taste and smell, that have no bearing in other mediums of entertainment, and are often thought of as places to frequent when no one wants to cook at home.

Nonetheless, successful restaurants combine good food, good service, and good ambience in order to provide an experience that is neither necessary nor convenient, only entertaining. Fine-dining even incorporates an interactivity that is more closely related to videogames than other mediums of entertainment.

In The Corner of Solicitude and Plenty, Frank Bruni reviews an established New York restaurant, Union Square Café. While there is no obvious plot summary, as exists in movie and book reviews, food reviews often summarize gameplay mechanics, so to speak.

"The staff will actually seat you before your party is complete. If you show up with an extra person, they'll smile and do their best."

"More surprisingly, I had service that, for all its transcendent geniality, sometimes failed in the particulars. There was coffee never refilled, an appetizer never delivered (and, to be fair, absent from the bill as well)."

Bruni's gameplay synopsis, however, differs from the typical videogame review in that every single aspect of the experience is not discussed. Bruni only points out the anomalies, the variations from the norm, the unadvertised aspects, those gameplay mechanics that specifically had an impact on his experience.

In providing opinions on the experience, Bruni fortunately follows a route similar to Maslin by providing reasons for his opinions.

"Two of the pasta dishes that make frequent appearances on the menu were impressive: the lasagna Bolognese, which had no fewer than nine thin layers of noodle that brought to mind the tiers of pastry in a delicate millefoglie..."

"The capellini had that irresistible broccoli-rabe bitterness, coupled with a faint, fugitive heat."

"The spinach risotto can't have such a murky, unfocused taste, with little but the bacon coming through."

Bruni enjoyed the capellini, but because he explains that his enjoyment is the result of "broccoli-rabe bitterness," I am able to determine that I will not enjoy the capellini due to my dislike of broccoli-rabe.

Conclusion

While I enjoy many titles from all entertainment mediums, I am far from an expert in the fields of film, books, music, food, and even videogames. The above evaluations were superficial and cursory at best, and given that only one example was provided for each medium, and that all examples were taken from only one outlet, no lasting or decisive conclusions can or should be drawn about videogame review.

However, at the very least, hypotheses can be formed. In general, objectivity is bad and subjectivity is good. In fact, the main theme behind a review should be the reviewer's personal opinion.

Of course that opinion must be supported with reason and example. Any synopsis or exposition that does not serve to support an opinion is completely unnecessary.

These hypotheses may seem fairly self-evident, but given the varied state of all entertainment reviews, opinions on how to critique clearly differ. In my personal opinion, I believe it may be appropriate for the videogame industry to stop comparing itself to film, and start drawing inspiration from the fine-dining industry.

That, of course, does not mean I want to play Cooking Mama.