To some degree, I'm fully aware that this article is going to seem like the pot calling the kettle black. I'm fully aware of the fact that I too often get wrapped up in discussing the "new," the "exciting," rather than delving into substantive issues in video gaming across the entire video gaming era.
With that being said, I'm still going to cast stones (in my glass house? So many idioms today). It's an unfortunate side effect of the state of video gaming journalism – that nearly all articles, even critic-based ones, are beholden to a product hype cycle, which treats video games as products and as "news" stories.
To some degree, this is often the result of practicality (as it is in my case). So many new games get released every week that to keep up with the changing dialog in gaming means consuming as many of these "important" games as possible. The length and amount of effort in playing a video game also necessitates staying on top of the release schedule, I suppose. And when one considers that the gigantic, mainstream engines that drive the video game discussion in the public consciousness forward are essentially acting as more-or-less free advertisers for video games and (increasingly) video game companies, it doesn't make sense to them to take a second look at an older game.
I understand the practicalities of it – hell, I've been primarily reviewing new games recently, partially due to the fact that I'm writing reviews for a newspaper now, but also because of the sheer volume of games being released and the need to "keep up" with the conversation – but that doesn't change the fact that "the conversation" is too often revolving around some pretty piss-poor games. The foundation of what is a good game is often implied in modern reviews, but too often reviewers are prone to over-hyping games that are ultimately forgettable or unimaginative, simply because of the visceral thrill of the game itself.
Getting beyond the fact that more and more games are attempting to offer this surface-level thrill because of this state of public consciousness and a shift in the idea of what makes "good" games, what is perhaps the greatest folly of video gaming journalism is that the mainstream (outside of very specific cases, like Eurogamer, who are likely some of the best writers and thinkers about video gaming in the mainstream video game media) seems to have a collective amnesia. I know that fellow contributor Stephen Keating likes to use the example of Flower (a game I've not played due to lack of a PS3), but there are many, many games that deserve far more consideration beyond the initial "trailer/preview/review" cycle of any given game.
Why aren't we talking about Chrono Trigger or Grim Fandango, outside of pat "greatest games of all time" lists? Why aren't there essays about the statements on civilization in Metroid Prime, or about how Mario transcends popular appeal to create an abstracted deconstruction of commonly-held narrative assumptions? Why can't a site like IGN take a break from reviewing every single game that comes out and focus on ones that actually matter (OK, bad example. Not to go off on a tangent, but with their current organizational structure and focus on "male-centric advertising," that's never, ever going to happen)? Why do all reviews have to be about whether you should buy the game or not, or how many features a game has (one only has to look at reviews of Gran Turismo 5 – a game that is praised exclusively because of its features, and not because of intelligent game design outside of neurotic simulation-type stuff that probably shouldn't be considered "game-like" in any meaningful sense)? To some degree, these are rhetorical questions, but my point still stands: by constantly pushing our conversations forward, we're not building any sort of cohesive approach to video games as a cultural artifact.
Perhaps that's not fair to ask of mainstream media sources – we only occasionally get lucky and get a Pauline Kael or a Lester Bangs, people who can influence the course of the criticisms of their respective fields while still operating in a more-or-less public, mainstream capacity. The people who are employed by mainstream video game sites are fans of the genre first and foremost, and critical consumers of their culture secondly. That's not to say that honest-to-god video game critics don't exist, but they're existing on the fringes for the most part, and the fanboys in charge of sites like Destructoid aren't exactly helping the matter. It's of course all about page counts and all about appealing to a demographic who have already bought into the "fun and exciting" mantra of the video game experience. An interesting experiment would be to hire people who have their bona fides in literary criticism and have them apply it to video games. They're clearly different approaches, but at least it would get the ball rolling.
Of course, the explicit aim of this site has been to attempt to form some sort of critical approach to video gaming, a medium that I'm not afraid to admit has influenced me far less than books or movies or music ever have. I find video games interesting from a critical distance, and I simultaneously play them for fun and enjoyment, but it's a genre that by its very nature doesn't coalesce into a textual whole very often. When it does, it's revelatory, easily on par with the greats in other media. The problem is that there's no validation for these works – a game that has refined driving or shooting mechanics can be treated with the same reverence as, say, the aforementioned Chrono Trigger.
I'm going to keep up with new releases simply because, well, I have to. But I've also realized that we need to construct some meaning around games – not how well they work, but why they're important (or not). Otherwise we're just reporting on the fact that new games are released, and that some of them are good by some arbitrary measure of goodness.