I have no interest in reviewing games “on their own terms.” At least not in the way that is meant by most critics and consumers. To do so is a bit like reviewing an artwork for how well it will fit in a living room. There is reason to do so, but I’d be more interested in reviewing that piece of wall art as art, and I can say the same for games.

Commercial Vs. Cultural Critics

Before I continue, I should state that I think that reviewing a game “on its own terms” — that is, evaluating it for what it sets out to do rather than for what it achieves as art — is perfectly valid. These kinds of reviews — the vast, vast majority in the games industry — act as buyer’s guides, and are an important and valuable part of the market. They keep people informed so that they can spend their money wisely.

From this perspective, there is no sense in reviewing Superhot¹ for its narrative depth or What Remains of Edith Finch² for its adrenaline highs. That isn’t why developers make those games, and isn’t why audiences play those games. And if a critic is acting as a middle-point to connect the two — as a commercial critic does — then they are doing a disservice to both, and to themselves.

I would know, I am a commercial critic of games at my day job, and I always endeavor to engage with games I review there “on their own terms.” In those reviews, I want to inform potential consumers.

Here? That is not my goal. I am not here to connect prospective audiences with sales-hungry developers. Though it is a worthwhile goal in other circumstances, I have no interest in selling — or rebuffing sales from — any games here.

Instead, my goal on GraveStates is the notably-less-lucrative task of analysis. This is most obvious with my video essays and blog posts (where such analysis is expected), but is not so typical of reviews. And so, I feel a need to explain myself:

When I write a review, it is because I want to engage with the game in question as an art piece. I’ve firmly stated already that I believe that if games are art, then every game is art. And, if every game is art, then they can all be critiqued as such, rather than just as entertainment products. To be sure, they are both, and there is nothing wrong (and, in fact, something very valuable) in examining them as products, but it is not my purpose.

My purpose is that of a cultural critic: to review art-pieces in my medium of expertise for their merit. For how they progress the medium, for what they say (or fail to say), for what inspirations they are building upon, and so on.

Why Review Games as a Cultural Critic?

Why does this matter? Because a product and an art-piece serve different purposes, and so a good product may well be a weak art-piece, and a masterwork of art may be a sub-par commercial product (or may not be one at all, sometimes). And, even if both the product and the art are equal in merit, it may be for different reasons.

This divide exists in all other major artistic mediums. Film critics who praise Marvel movies often do so on the grounds of audience engagement and box office performance, while others dissect the cinematic artistry of Blade Runner³, despite that franchise’s commercial failings. The same goes for literature; contemporaneous reviews of Slaughterhouse-Five⁴ tout it as a sci-fi-infused page-turner, whereas a continuous stream of cultural critics have discussed its themes and ideas for decades as an artistic milestone. Music? The Velvet Underground barely sold records, yet their influence permeates genres and generations, often from the recommendations and insights of cultural critics.

In every major medium, there is a critical⁵ split between commercial viability and cultural significance, where the former fosters a market and the latter fosters legitimacy and legacy.

Games should be no different. And, in fact, we already see that this divide is possible, and that there is a hunger for it. Paratopic⁶ didn’t exactly sell gangbusters, but what few cultural critics doing serious work (mostly amateur video essayists on YouTube) widely consider it as a harbinger of low-poly and analog horror in games. Meanwhile, sports franchises like Madden or NBA 2k are rightly regarded as essentially artless, but regularly end up being the best-selling games of any given year. And then there are games like the 2016 God of War⁷ reboot, which is widely considered both commercially and artistically remarkable.

The Current State of Cultural Criticism for Games

And yet, if you want serious discussion about a game’s artistic achievements or shortcomings, your options are limited. You can either turn to amateur YouTubers — who may present compelling arguments but often lack industry knowledge or meaningful access to the creative process — or try to extract artistic discussion from professional critics who do have that knowledge and access, but whose job is to assess a product’s commercial value rather than its artistic significance.

And so, we circle back around, to the reason I chose to be a cultural critic on this site instead of a commercial one, even though there is undeniably more money and more recognition for the latter. And that is for two simple reasons. The first, less important reason is that I love doing it (duh). The second is that professional, artistic critique legitimizes a medium, and games have too small a segment of critics who do it.

Disagree? Then find me a counterexample, where a medium was legitimized naturally without professional critics analyzing its pieces like art. There were film, play, and novel critics who reviewed those mediums as products since their inception, but only after other critics joined the fray to review them as art were those mediums legitimized.

So, too, must it be for video games (and TTRPGs, but that’s a topic for another time). And, since no big publisher of video game reviews would (nor should) alter their course to cater to this artistic need, being perfectly content to continue urging their writers to make commercial reviews, and since few cultural critics seem interested in professionalizing themselves with the industry they cover (yes, I am shading some video essayists), I feel that this expansion of artistic critique must come from independent, professional critics willing to break the norm.

My Role in the Conversation

I am not so arrogant as to think I am the first person to take this leap. Indeed, I think reviewers like Yahtzee Crowshaw and James Stephanie Sterling (yeah, not who you were expecting, right?) have been doing it for years, and think that both of those crass Brits have done more to legitimize games as art than any number of Polygon reviews or hobbyist video essayists ever could. But I do think that the number of reviewers like them is still too tiny a percentage, and that it needs to grow to actually shift the perception of games in the public consciousness.

And so, though my platform may be minute now, I throw my hat into that. To contribute as I can toward games as an artistic medium by critiquing them artistically instead of commercially. And that means not reviewing games “on their own terms,” but rather according to what they add to culture. FIFA 23⁸ does not get five stars and a glowing review because it’s a really good football game (even if it is). Cruelty Squad⁹ does not get one star because it’s unsaleable and difficult to endure.

This means that there will be times when I give a poor review to a game I enjoy because I think it is bad art. And times when I review a game well even though it was unpleasant. There will be games that I give massive accolades to, while urging people not to go in expecting to have fun, and games that I will tear apart relentlessly and still urge people to pick up.

Because I want my reviews to help people think about games as art, to be part of the conversation surrounding those games, and to contribute to the legitimization of games and their critique.

What I Do and Don’t Do as a Critic

And how do I plan to do this? What will I be doing differently, that commercial critics don’t? Well, quite simply: I am going to review games based on how they progress and engage with the artistic world, not how fun or “worth the cost” they are. I am going to examine themes in games with stories, and unique mechanics in games without. I am going to speak of aesthetic ancestors and descendants, on artistic movements and artistic revolutions. I aim to make my reviews about what games do for other games, for the world, and for art.

If that sounds pretentious, then so be it, but this is the kind of analysis that gamers need to take seriously and not scoff at if we want our medium to be legitimized. And if you don’t want that? That’s fine. I recognize that this is an end not shared by every gamer. But I do, and because I do, I am committed to this path.

If you agree with me, read my reviews. If you disagree, don’t. Just don’t complain when my reviews align with that goal.

Before I conclude, I should clarify a few things that this approach does not entail:

• This does not entail that I think every game is a pure, deep, artistic vehicle — just as not every film has all that much depth. It only means that I believe that every game can be analyzed through the lens of artistry, even if it falters when viewed through it.
• This does not entail that how a game feels and plays is not taken into account. Because of the nature of the medium, a game being fun is often part of its artistic expression, and satisfaction and excitement are often the most central emotions that most games are trying to achieve, artistically. Just as many paintings aim to evoke beauty and most novels aim to evoke catharsis, most games aim to evoke joy, and that is most easily done through gameplay.
• This does not entail that I am reviewing games based on “how well they tell stories.” I am not a narratologist — one that believes that games need to tell stories to be artistic — and I think that the medium is often progressed by games with virtually no stories whatsoever.
• This does not entail that I think games should only be viewed through this viewpoint. They are still commercial products, and because we live in a consumerist, capitalist world, that means that the monetary reality of “how much they cost” matters. I’m not claiming that my approach is ‘better’ than traditional commercial reviews — just that it fills an underserved niche.

In short, all I aim to do is present my readers and watchers with brief, artistic reviews of games that I am interested in, and to give my perspective on them as art-pieces — including whether they soar or stumble. I aim to further the discussion about these games, not to help or hinder their sales, and to aid in the legitimization of the medium however I can.

If that sounds like something you want more of in gaming criticism, then read my reviews, follow me on social media (like Bluesky), and subscribe to my YouTube channel. Serious artistic critique of games will only thrive if people actively support it. If you believe games deserve to be treated as art, then join me: read, share, and help push this conversation forward.

1. Superhot Team. Superhot. Superhot Team. PC. 2016.
2. Giant Sparrow. What Remains of Edith Finch. Annapurna Interactive. PC/PS4. 2017.
3. Scott, Ridley. Blade Runner. The Ladd Company, Shaw Brothers, Blade Runner Partnership. June 25th, 1982.
4. Vonnegut, Kurt. Slaughterhouse-Five. Delacorte. March 31st, 1969.
5. As in “relating to critics,” not “of utmost importance”
6. Arbitrary Metric. Paratopic. Arbitrary Metric. PC. 2018.
7. Santa Monica Studios. God of War. Sony Interactive Entertainment. PS4. 2018.
8. EA Vancouver, EA Romania. FIFA 23. EA Sports (it’s in the game). PC/PS4+5/Xbox One+Series X|S/Switch. 2022.
9. Consumer Softproducts. Cruelty Squad. Consumer Softproducts. PC. 2021.