Kotaku Reviewed Death Stranding 2 For Thousands Of Words And Never Once Landed On A Number
The Original Review
“It's messy. It's weird. I'll never forget the ending.”
Let's start with the dataset, because there isn't one. I opened this review looking for a single quantifiable value and instead found forty paragraphs describing vibes. A statistician needs at minimum one number to do literally anything, and Kotaku handed me a ruler made of soup and told me to measure the ocean with it. The math aint mathing because there is no math. There's just a man saying 'I fucking love delivering cargo' with the conviction of a cult leader and none of the accountability.
Here's the timeline that makes this extra funny: Kotaku spent thirteen years running a Yes/No/Not Yet system, decided that was somehow still too committal, killed it, and then published this review into the resulting numerical void like a coroner refusing to fill out cause of death because 'the body contains multitudes.' Refusing to score isn't bold editorial philosophy, it's a spreadsheet with every cell merged into one and labeled 'vibes.' You can't average an essay. Believe me, I've tried. The margin of error on this review isn't a percentage, it's a shrug rendered in HTML.
The reviewer himself supplies the funniest data point in the whole piece without meaning to: he calls the finale 'messy' and 'weird' in the same breath as 'I'll never forget the ending,' which is the statistical equivalent of a null value that also somehow correlates strongly with itself. Is that a 9 or a 4? Nobody knows, least of all the guy who wrote four thousand words and left the y-axis blank. A review with no score describing an ending the writer calls a mess is just two undefined variables shaking hands and calling it journalism.
So here's my actual score, since somebody in this transaction has to show their work: a 2 out of 10 for the review, not the game. Not because the prose is bad — some of it's genuinely sharp — but because refusing to commit to a number and then writing three thousand words agonizing over the exact texture of your feelings about the ending is just a score with extra steps, badly disguised as principle. Pick a lane. Show your work. The math aint mathing, and neither is the moral high ground.


