Their discussion about the upcoming Mafia game, "The Old Country," and its $50 price tag snagged my attention. The core of their conversation on the game revolved around content quantity - how many hours would justify the cost? This immediately stirred an old and familiar frustration within me.
The notion of going back to the "games as art" discussions of 20 years ago is exhausting to think about. Yet, listening to Jor and Luke, I realize the connection between perceived value and sheer playtime persists, so maybe it needs a mini-revival.
Talking about games in this way is like judging a painting by the size of the canvas or feeling cheated in the theater because a movie was 90 minutes instead of 180. Treating art the same as buying flooring at Home Depot is nails on a chalkboard for me. No offense intended to Jor and Luke (their pod is wonderful and I'm just nitpicking a very small part of an informal convo), as this viewpoint on game value is widespread throughout the industry.
While a game can certainly fall short of expectations, the main disappointment rarely stems from its duration. More often, it's the quality of the experience that dictates its worth.
Take "Rewind or Die," a game I played late last year. The initial hours were some of the most captivating and immersive I've encountered in my gaming life (one that reaches back to the late 1970s). That opening sequence alone – set in a video store – was worth every penny.
The new Mafia game could offer a paltry five hours of lackluster gameplay, making that $50 feel like a significant waste. Or maybe it will feel like that short part in The Godfather that takes place in villages of Savoca and Forza d'Agrò, making the $50 price tag one you never think about again. Ultimately, the value of art, whether it's a painting, a game, or any other creative endeavor, lies in its impact and quality, not simply its size or length.
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Thanks for reading.
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