At the risk of coming off as a stereotypically cantankerous reporter, I'm going to use the following space to discuss a couple of irksome obstacles I ran into this holiday while trying to cover various games.
As many readers will no doubt have guessed by now, publishers often distribute advance copies of popular games to journalists. This practice is essential. Most games take days or weeks to play through, and publishing deadlines often occur long before games hit store shelves. It's the only means by which web sites, newspapers, and magazines can ensure timely coverage of high profile titles.
Unfortunately, I've frequently found it impossible to get my hands on games prior to their release.
I rarely have problems procuring advance copies when dealing with American publishers. This fall I received titles like Fallout 3 (published by Maryland-based Bethesda Softworks) and Saints Row 2 (distributed by THQ, headquartered in California) weeks before their respective release dates, providing plenty of time for me to explore their epic worlds prior to filing timely reviews.
The Canadian publishers with which I am often forced work, on the other hand, almost never distribute games to journalists prior to their release. It's a problem I've run up against with companies ranging from Microsoft to Ubisoft, but the most vexing has always been Sony Computer Entertainment Canada. In ten years of dealing with the Japanese game giant's Canadian arm, I have never once been provided a game prior to its release.
Hence, the reason why my reviews this fall of Resistance 2 and LittleBigPlanet were published more than a week after the games were made available to the public. In the case of LittleBigPlanet, I actually received questions in the comments section of this blog wondering why the Globe had yet to publish a review of such a revolutionary game. It makes me feel as though we're letting readers down-which is one of the reasons why I'm writing this little rant.
Upon bringing my dissatisfaction to the attention of a Sony representative I've known for some time (who, it's worth noting, would like nothing more than to provide advance copies of games to Canadian journalists), I was told that he simply doesn't have permission to distribute product in advance of its shelf date.
I have no idea why this is the case. The only explanation that comes to mind is that Sony is afraid Canadian journalists will break embargos-agreements between publisher and writer that stipulate a date before which no reviews are to be printed. This is, after all, the same industry that engages in the dodgy practice of awarding exclusive first review rights for major games to specific publications (one wonders at what cost to editorial veracity).
And that leads to the second frustrating review impediment I faced this fall: Inane embargo terms.
I've no qualms signing a document that keeps me from publishing a review prior to its release date, but the embargo associated with Epic Games' Gears of War 2 came with an additional paper that outlined 14 spoilers that could not "be revealed as part of a review." Not only did the list imply that I didn't know how to do my job (and, worse, that I didn't hold readers' interests in the highest regard), it included ridiculously vague directives, such as one that stipulated I was not to discuss the game's "story arc."
It was outrageous. I found myself wondering how often film studios and book publishers provide critics with lists of narrative elements they aren't allowed to discuss in their reviews (and, if they did, whether any self respecting critic would actually adhere to them).
We're in an age in which stories play a key factor in a player's enjoyment of a game. I will not limit my game critiques to boring blatherings about guns, vehicles, and multiplayer maps (the few subjects Epic's embargo attachment listed as being open for discussion). I certainly didn't when I wrote my review of Gears of War 2, and I never will.
What bothers me most, though, is that I can almost understand the rationale behind such absurd stipulations. The problem is that professionalism is a rare commodity amongst game reviewers, many of whom have no formal training, journalistic integrity, or experience. Were I an executive, I, too, would likely be wary of dealing with the teenage "editors" who seem to compose the bulk of the game journalism populace.
Still, exceptions ought to be made when working with career writers representing venerated national publications. If game publishers ever want coverage of their products to feature more prominently in papers like The Globe and Mail, they have to begin treating them with a little more respect.
And now I really do feel like a crotchety old reporter. All I intended by this post is for readers to understand the obstacles that writers here and at many other publications face in their mission to provide timely, insightful coverage of the latest games. The game industry may want its products to be taken as a serious form of art, but one of the many hurdles they'll need to clear for that to happen is to begin treating the journalists who critique their creations in a manner equivalent to those who report on other forms of entertainment media.