1097: Five Reasons Kotaku Made Yakuza Fans Angry Today

Fan of Sega’s long-running modern-day JRPG series Yakuza? Then you may want to give Kotaku a wide berth today, as they published an article (FreezePage link so as not to direct traffic to the piece in question; petty, I know, but I know a few people who won’t click Kotaku links on principle) which has incited the ire of an angry mob of Yakuza fans. And since Yakuza is a fairly niche game with a dedicated core of fans keen to see Sega continue to bring it to the West, they’re pretty passionate about the series that they love.

The main issue with the article is that it is clearly written by someone who has very little knowledge of the Yakuza series at all — the author even states this up-front, noting that prior to taking Yakuza 5 for a spin they had played nothing more than the demos of Yakuza 3, 4 and Dead Souls and hadn’t felt inspired to purchase or try the full games. Leaving aside the fact that he was coming in at the fifth installment to a series that is very strict about its chronology — each subsequent game follows on directly from the previous one — the bigger question is why on Earth this writer was picked to write an “Import Preview” for this game when his familiarity with the series is questionable by his own admission?

Of course, there is merit in judging the accessibility of a long-running series to newcomers, but just as certain series of books, movies and TV shows expect you to start from the very beginning and work your way along, so too are there series of games that demand the same of their audience. Yakuza is one of these, though it does give a cursory nod to newcomers in each game by allowing them a sequence where the protagonist “reminisces” about the events of the previous installment. These are primarily intended for series veterans who have endured a significant wait between games, however, and are designed to remind them of the key events rather than the actual experience of playing through a Yakuza game. They are not really designed to tell the entire story of a whole game in 30 minutes of cutscenes. You want to know what happened in, say, Yakuza 2? Go play it — it’s still out there and (relatively) readily available.

I won’t go through and address all of Eisenbeis’ five points in the article one at a time as that just seems somewhat petty, but it’s abundantly clear from the things he says that he is unfamiliar with the series and its conventions, and has also not spent a significant amount of time with it to discover its hidden depths. Pleasingly, the comments from Yakuza fans beneath the article have mostly been relatively respectful (if incredulous) and systematically point out how most of his arguments are flawed or, in some cases, completely incorrect.

I will address one point specifically, however, and that is the matter of “unskippable conversations”. This is a particular bugbear for me. Yakuza is notorious for being a story-heavy, character-focused game in which the moments when you’re kicking back in a hostess club attempting to woo your lady of the hour are just as important as the times when you’re punching goons in the face and smashing traffic cones over their heads. If anything, they’re more important, as they’re where the characters get to demonstrate their hidden depths — far from being generic, silent protagonists, the playable characters in the Yakuza series are all very complex people with interesting motivations and outlooks on life. More interestingly, they’re all grown-ups.

Brief aside: a friend and I were discussing this recently, and we thought it would be very interesting if there was a Japanese-style role-playing game that instead of featuring your usual band of Plucky, Idealistic Teens Who Are Always Right getting to save the world from Some Great Evil, put the spotlight on a group of older, more jaded and cynical adults who maybe had more complex motives for embarking on whatever the game’s “quest” happened to be. The Yakuza series provides just that sort of experience, with characters who age and evolve as the series progresses, giving the complete franchise a truly remarkable feeling of coherence and changing with the times. At the same time, however, certain things remain constant — Kazuma will always care for his adoptive sort-of-“daughter” Haruka; Kamuro-cho will always be by turns beautiful and terrifying; Majima’s sanity will always be somewhat questionable.

Anyway, my point with all that was that the very essence of Yakuza is in the story, so why would you skip it? I’ll allow you the answer “because I died on a boss fight and I’ve already seen this bit”, but anything beyond that — such as the reason Eisenbeis gives in his article — is very much missing the point. “I started to dread playing through the plot, knowing that the game’s pace would be about to grind to a halt,” he writes. Good grief, man. The point is the plot. If you were hoping for a brawler or character action game — or even a Grand Theft Auto-alike — there are plenty of other titles that will better fit your needs.

One thing I will say at this point is that I’m not attempting to convert anyone to the Yakuza fold who isn’t already there. As has probably been made clear by the fact I’m writing this at all, you’re either “in” or you aren’t, and getting “in” these days involves playing four (possibly five if you count Dead Souls) games of between 10-40+ hours that straddle the generation gap between PS2 and PS3. From the second game onwards, you also have to be able to deal with the fact that there’s no English dub, either — it’s all subtitled with Japanese speech (and is an infinitely better experience as a result, I might add). It’s a worthwhile experience, but equally it’s one I’d understand people forgoing as the perceived barrier of entry gets higher.

Consequently, I’m not denying that some of the criticisms Eisenbeis makes of Yakuza in his article are valid; many of them are, and yes, they’re offputting to series newcomers. However, this article really didn’t need to be written, and in the worst-case scenario, it may have done some damage to the already-tenuous chances of Sega bringing this latest installment to the West. The piece’s content essentially boils down to “Guy Who Doesn’t Like Yakuza Doesn’t Like Latest Yakuza“, which is a matter for a personal blog, not for one of the world’s most heavily-trafficked video games websites. Fans of the Yakuza series who see the “Import Preview” header would likely have been hoping for some insights on the ways in which the new game has evolved its systems and what has happened to the characters in the intervening time since Yakuza 4 and Dead Souls; instead, what they get is a poorly-researched opinion piece that does nothing but frustrate the people who are most likely to read it.

I’m sorry that Eisenbeis didn’t enjoy his time with Yakuza 5, but it’s his prerogative to dislike it if he pleases. He should clearly not, however, have been given the opportunity to write about it in the way that he did, as it does a great disservice to both the game and its fans who were hoping for some genuine new information. I hope that Kotaku will think much more carefully about who they assign preview articles to in the future, but I won’t hold my breath.

#oneaday Day 771: The Trouble With Kotaku Might Not Be Quite What You Think

Yesterday, Internet Rage focused the full power of it’s +5 Cannon of Ranting at Kotaku, and not for the first time. On this particular occasion, the problem was this article, by all accounts a rather obnoxious piece by comedian Kris Kail describing the fact that he supposedly managed to get laid several times in a room filled with Sonic the Hedgehog memorabilia.

The article drew heat for several reasons. Firstly, it was simply quite bad taste. Secondly, it was rather obnoxiously self-congratulatory, and a thinly-veiled attempt for Kail to sell more copies of his book Slacker’s Paradise. Thirdly, and this is the thing that Kotaku has most commonly taken flak for in the last few years, it was really only tangentially related to video games.

Editor-in-chief Stephen Totilo took to Twitter shortly after it became very clear that reaction to the article’s publication was almost universally negative. His response, though, was somewhat curious, as it seemed like he was apologising for something different to what everyone was upset about.

“The only person who has to apologize for stories on Kotaku is me,” he tweeted. “It was my call to run the Sonic story. I had expected it to come off as funnier. That was an error of judgment. But, more significantly, I owe our readers an apology for okaying a story that implies all gamers are straight men. I should’ve caught that. It’s no small thing. No article on Kotaku should make you feel that you don’t count as a gamer. If one does, that is my fault and inconsistent with Kotaku values. I must also add that humor and writing about sex isn’t off-limits at Kotaku. We just have to do it right and not forget our own standards.”

While it’s good that Totilo responded so quickly to criticism, certainly on my Twitter feed the fact that the article was supposedly assuming an all-straight male readership wasn’t really the issue — rather, it was the poor taste and seemingly rather pointless nature of the article on a site which is supposedly about video games.

But that got me to thinking. What is Kotaku really trying to do?

Then a theory hit me. It became obvious what Kotaku seemingly wants to do, despite its half-hearted attempts to be “inclusive” to everyone. It wants to be a “men’s magazine” a la FHM, Maxim et al, but one that focuses on games. Were the site to be branded as such and have the confidence in its content to say “yes, we are specifically aiming at a straight male demographic” then articles like the above actually wouldn’t be all that out of place. Those who didn’t fit into that core demographic might not enjoy that sort of content, sure — but if the site was obvious enough about its intentions, it wouldn’t provoke nearly as much ire.

There’s precedent for this sort of thing, too. A good few years back now, there was a short-lived magazine from PC Zone and Maxim UK publisher Dennis known as Escape. It focused on video games, Internet culture and the Web’s formative years alongside the usual scantily-clad ladies found in more “general interest” men’s mags like its stablemate Maxim. It’s a real shame it’s not around any more. There’s actually arguably a place for a publication like that on newsstands today.

Because you know what? It was pretty good. It brought together Things That Men Like under one convenient header. Games. The Web. Girls. Sports. “Alternative” culture. It took a few risks with its content, too; most memorable for me was the occasion when they quasi-scientifically attempted to test the theory that video games were better than sex by wiring up my brother to a heart monitor and then making him have sex, wank, talk to a stranger, play a video game and bungee jump. Surely a high point in his career. (Bungee jumping “won”, by the way.)

I can’t help but feel that the “blog/news aggregator” format for gaming sites has had its day, and that the way forward is for outlets to specialise both in their content and their core demographic. Video game culture is all-encompassing nowadays, covering men, women, kids, adults, straight, gay, trans, nerd, enthusiast, casual, PC, console, any combination of identifying characteristics you might name. As awesome as that is for the cultural penetration and acceptance of gaming as a mainstream medium, it does mean that you start to get to a stage where you can’t please everyone. So why not focus on a specific demographic? If you’re up-front and honest about being, say, a “men’s” site and focusing on content as such, those people who have no interest in straight male-focused content can move on to any of the bajillion other sites out there (it’s not as if we have a shortage, after all) while those who enjoy that sort of thing can stick around without feeling “guilt”.

Some sites are already wise to this. We have GayGamer.net specifically choosing to cater its audience towards (I quote) “boys who like boys who like joysticks and girls who like girls who like rumble pads”. We have Gamers With Jobs specifically catering towards the older gamer who doesn’t necessarily have the time to play everything but enjoys some mature discussion. We have Girl Gamer, specifically aimed at female players. And doubtless there are numerous others catering specifically to other markets, too.

So why doesn’t Kotaku bite the bullet and make a bold shift in editorial direction, specifically stating that it is going to court the straight gamer market above all else?

The answer is sadly probably the most simple one. Hits. By attempting to be “universally appealing” (and, as we’ve seen, often failing) Kotaku aims to get the largest possible audience of people who are just interested in “video games” as a general, amorphous concept. More hits means more advertising revenue means the site can continue to grow and be a household name in gamer culture. At the same time, controversies such as that which occurred yesterday over this article attract people to the site, in much the same way as the Daily Mail posts deliberately contentious headlines in order to direct outraged traffic their way. Any publicity is good publicity, as they say.

It’s a cynical view, perhaps, but it’s also not an unreasonable assumption to make given Kotaku’s recent history. Consider, however, something that Arthur Gies of Vox Games said on Twitter last night:

You know what brings people to content? Good writing. You know what else brings people to content? Outrage. Which would you rather support?

There is a place and a demographic for content such as the Sonic the Hedgehog piece we saw yesterday. But that place is not on a site which purports to be universally appealing to all gamers.

The solution to this is one of rebranding and targeting that specific audience without guilt or apology — but sadly, I can’t help but feel it’s a bit too late for Kotaku now.

#oneaday Day 716: Games Media Shakeup

Interesting news out of the game journalism industry today, as luminaries from Joystiq, Kotaku, The Escapist and MTV news come together to form the Voltron of writing about games, Vox Games (final name TBD).

The “dream team” assembled for the new venture has the potential to provide a serious shakeup to video game news and journalism if handled correctly. All hail from some of the most popular, well-known sites in the oversaturated field of games writing, and all will have their own take on how to push the medium forward. Hopefully Vox Games, or whatever it ends up being called, will prove to be a site that dares to be different.

But what does that mean? What could a “different” games site look like? Let’s brainstorm.

For starters, the idea of “consensus” among the media needs to go out of the window. Jeff Rivera wrote a good piece on this subject over at Gamer Theory recently, and he’s on the money. All too often we see outlets appearing to predetermine which games are going to be the hotness of the season, sometimes offering review scores which don’t necessarily match up with the words being written. Battlefield 3, for example, was almost universally lambasted for its (apparently — I haven’t played it) woeful single player campaign, but that didn’t stop it picking up a ton of perfect scores and awards. In some cases, this is likely something of a hangover from Gerstmanngate, as outlets don’t want to piss off their advertisers by rating the game that is on the background of every single page of the site less than a 9 out of 10.

Alongside this, the audience needs to be re-educated away from thinking that anything under a 9 isn’t worth bothering with. Eurogamer ran afoul of commenters on several occasions last year by daring to rate big releases with an 8. They weren’t wrong to do so, but commenters were wrong to assume that 8 meant “bad”. This is a hole we’ve dug for ourselves over the years, and it’s going to be very difficult to get away from. It’s tied in to the “consensus” thinking, though — it’s entirely possible that those reviewing a game for a particular outlet might feel the desire to see what other places have rated it, and, whether consciously or subconsciously, seeing these other scores can colour the writer’s judgement.

Which is ridiculous, of course, because scores are completely arbitrary and borderline meaningless. There’s no way to quantify “how good” a game is. There’s no universal measure of “quality” because everyone’s tastes are so different. Some people might think Modern Warfare 3 is game of the year, while I might think it’s the most insulting game I’ve ever played. (I do, incidentally.)

But the review scores debate is well-worn, so I’ll step away from it at this point and consider some other ways in which game journalism can evolve and develop.

Chief among one of the things which needs to adapt is the relationship between developer, publisher, PR and press. At present, publishers and PR hold all the power. Developers are muzzled from talking about their game if it doesn’t fit into the publisher and PR teams’ tightly-controlled marketing plan. We get press releases announcing when trailers will be released. We get countdowns to countdowns to exclusive reveals of some stupid thing on YouTube which they hope will go viral but won’t because it’s trying too hard. Many newshounds in the industry get reduced to little more than PR mouthpieces, frantically rewriting the press releases that flood their inboxes on a daily basis rather than going in search of the “real story”. And why? Because uncovering a “real story” might compromise a relationship between an outlet and a publisher/PR team.

This isn’t an anti-PR rant, of course. Many PR types do a fantastic job of facilitating communication between different branches of the industry, acting as a “gobetween” or “messenger” rather than an impenetrable wall through which information cannot pass. Aubrey “Chupacaubrey” Norris (Deep Silver), Tom “Evolve PR” Ohle (CD Projekt, Larian Studios and numerous others) and Jeff Green (PopCap) spring immediately to mind here, and are certainly a far cry from the PR teams from certain large publishers who take days to reply — and don’t even bother at all sometimes. For the industry as a whole to evolve, we need more people like this who are willing to work with the press rather than, as sometimes seems, against them.

And what can the writers in this brave new world do, besides not feeling obliged to fit in with the consensus of the rest of the industry? Branch out. Explore. Raise the profile of small-scale projects and the underdogs of the industry. Review the crap games as well as the awesome ones. Provide something unique — truly unique, rather than the press release meaning of “unique” — as opposed to what many other sites offer, which is an interchangeable retread of the exact same story also posted on all of the other outlets. Different sites should have their own “voice” — and this doesn’t necessarily mean being snarky, which is a somewhat overused form of humor in the industry today. What I mean, rather, is that different outlets should have their own take on events that are transpiring — editorials, comments, analysis, rather than the same dry old press release facts and improbable quotes from CEOs and VPs of Five Different Capitalised Titles.

Will Vox Games be the outlet to give the industry a good shakeup? I certainly hope so, and should the opportunity ever arise to become a part of it, I’ll be sure to do my bit, too.