Polygon docked Bayonetta 2 points because the protagonist was too sexy.

Mon Dieu. In the great museums of Europe, we have entire wings dedicated to the nude form — Botticelli's Venus rising from the sea, Delacroix's Liberty bare-breasted and leading a revolution, Bernini's Daphne mid-transformation in exquisite marble agony. Centuries of artistic tradition celebrating the human body as the ultimate canvas. And then we have Arthur Gies, Polygon's own hall monitor, who played one of the most technically accomplished action games ever made and decided the real story was that the protagonist's clothes come off when she attacks.

Let us examine the methodology. Bayonetta 2 is, by nearly universal critical consensus, a masterpiece of the character action genre — fluid combat, inventive set pieces, a frame rate that never falters. Gies acknowledges all of this. He praises the combat. He praises the design. He praises the creativity. And then he docks 2.5 points because a fictional witch made him uncomfortable. This is like giving the Sistine Chapel three stars because Michelangelo painted too many penises.

The review reads like a man writing a confession letter to his browser history. Every compliment is followed by a pained disclaimer, every paragraph of praise undercut by the quiet agony of someone who enjoyed the game but cannot admit it in front of his colleagues at the office. 'I liked the combat but I must register my discomfort' — this is not criticism, this is a Calvinist diary entry.

The game was directed by a woman, Yusuke Hashimoto worked under the supervision of Hideki Kamiya, and the character was explicitly designed as a power fantasy by female designer Mari Shimazaki. But why would Polygon consult the actual creators when you can project your own anxieties onto their art from six thousand miles away? The score is 7.5 — not because the game earned a 7.5, but because Arthur needed the world to know he is one of the good ones. This is not criticism, this is penance. This is not culture, this is commerce.