I knew this was going to happen. Eventually the BioWare team was going to pull the "artistic integrity" card on us. Which is fine. I am both a writer, and an illustrator, and I enjoy having creative freedoms to produce what pleases me, and what makes my soul happy, regardless of what the people around me may think. To an extent, that's fine. But if I plan on producing my art for the masses, I better be prepared to gracefully accept the criticism that comes with it. That's just what happens when you take the gamble to be an artist in a public forum of any kind. Video games, movies, books, etc.
Case in point: I just went through a workshop for one of my stories. A workshop, is a forum of like-minded people, in this case, writers, who all read your story in advance and come and talk about it for a few hours. That's just a few hours. They give you their feedback, how they received it, what they appreciated or didn't appreciate about it, while I carefully take notes. Is it personal? Hell yes it's personal. This is my work, this is my brainchild. Is progress something that is achieved in a vacuum? No. It's not. For my own personal growth, it is imperative that I gain the necessary help from others to succeed. Not just anybody mind you, but people who share in my passions, and people who are actually willing to dedicate time to my work.
What is going on right now with the ending of this game is a workshop, on a much grander scale, with those who are "workshopping" the game being the players themselves. I'm not the only writer out there who sat back and looked at the ending of this game from a WRITERLY standpoint and said "there are massive plot holes, inconsistencies with character, and a surprising lack of continuity with this ending; completely unbecoming of the previous caliber of work we've come to expect of this company and its creative team."
Artistic integrity? Perhaps. However, I find it very difficult to believe much in the idea of "integrity" when it merely translates to stubbornness. Sure you have artistic greats like Picasso and Hemingway who were only recognized for their genius after their time, but is this moment truly anything like those men? I actually do not believe so. For the simple fact that the excellence of BioWare is something that has been recognized already, and because of this fact, they have a duty not only to their fans, but to themselves to continue to live up to the quality that THEY THEMSELVES have established. It's not our fault these people are nothing but constant displays of excellence and creative genius.
But no one is perfect, and it's important to remember that when someone falls short, there is more honor to be had in admitting fault, and accepting the help and positive constructive feedback of those who are actually giving such (which is a massive amount of the community, the numbers of flamers compared to the civil individuals is staggeringly different) because they care. What BioWare did was introduce an entirely new element to playing video games, one that was sort of tried in the past with other titles and other companies, but never fully realized... until BioWare.
I have nothing but the utmost respect for the BioWare team, and I'm not a fancy high-paid high-profile writer or illustrator, but I do know and value enough of my craft to count myself as someone able to give well thought out constructive criticism.
The ending of this game was beautiful, and absolutely intense. It is not something to be belittled--but it belonged to an entirely different story line, and an entirely different set of circumstances. Instead of an ending that displayed the culmination of work between both the development team and the gamers themselves, it seemed to cut out the gaming community entirely. Never mind what the critics say... critics can be bought. I look to the indie critics, the lesser-named publications, even the no-names--the ones who do this for the passion of it, and they are not happy. They are a reflection of the overall feeling of the community.
The real meaning of artistic integrity is being willing to admit both the wonders and flaws in your work, and accepting the opinion of those who you take the chance of showing it to. It is believing enough in yourself to know that no amount of money or notoriety means you are perfect--you are a being who is always growing and changing, and that if you ever hope to progress you cannot do so in a vacuum.
A nifty piece of advice that one of my professors gave me about story writing:
"Never go outside of the story to find an explanation. If it's not in the story, it's not in the story."
Everything that's being theorized, is currently, not in the story. At least--not in the story WE know.