Reviewer’s remorse

I’ve always had romantic notions about reviewing games. It seemed like a job so perfect that it could only exist in daydreams. I built up the idea of playing and scoring games as the greatest, most wonderful job in the world.

Then I actually got the opportunity to review something, and now I’m not all that sure.

A few weeks ago, I signed on as an associate editor at a small website which mainly features indie games. When my editor asked me if I wanted to review games, I immediately agreed, elated that my seemly impossible dream was coming true. I wouldn’t be paid, but the game was free. What more could a girl ask for?

Unfortunately, I initially had trouble running the indie PC game my site assigned me, and my technical problems forced me to contact the development team for help. The problem was minor and entirely my fault, so the game was running perfectly soon after. Once they resolved the problem, I emailed my contact on the development team to thank him for his assistance and the opportunity to play the game. In his reply, he asked me to forward him a link to my review once I finished it.

I felt a little sick when I read that last line. By that point, I had put a few hours into the game and had begun to realize that it was, at best, mediocre. If it weren’t for the fact that I had to finish the game for review purposes, I probably would have quit long before the end.

Even so, the game exudes such an earnest desire for affection that I almost felt sorry for it. Developed and published by a small studio, the title features cute visuals and an interesting premise. Charm oozes from the menus and story sequences. However, the potential feels undelivered, and the gameplay is ultimately shallow.

Of course, I’ll be honest in my review, not only out of obligation to anyone that reads it, but also in the hope that a subsequent release will be better.

Still, I don't like having to tell someone else that their dream went unfulfilled after having only recently grasped my own.