I agree with the gist of Jim's critique, but I disagree with a HUGE part of it as well. How much do I disagree? Let me count the ways.
"What's in a Name?" - Jim says that names don't matter. They do. There are games out there whose names actually hold meaning to us. Not everyone will feel that way. I'm sure Jim is one of them who can distance himself from certain franchises. But for many people, names like "Star Wars", "Pearl Harbor", "The Dark Knight", "Halo", "Zelda", "9-11", "Silent Hill", "ICO", "Watchmen", "D-Day", etc. all carry with them something more than a name. Names are more than that. They contain meaning, memories, and even statements about life. When I think of "Silent Hill", I don't picture the f-bomb spewing, blood-and-guts, Pyramid Head-cameoing SH: Homecoming... I picture scenes such as Lisa's tragic fate in SH1, Angela's stairs of fire in SH2, Heather's return home in SH3, and Henry's hospital visit to Eileen in SH4. Moments filled with gut-wrenching emotion that can absolutely devastate a grown man or woman... and those feelings, those experiences, are culminated in a single name: "Silent Hill". It becomes something fondly remembered and more than just a name. So while, to Jim, a new game is just a game, and it could be called anything, people are protective of things that matter to them. It would bother me greatly to see "Shadow of the Colossus" turned into Duke Nukem-esque FPS with boobies and poop jokes, but at the same time I bet Duke Nukem fans would hate a Duke Nukem game that was a serious point-and-click adventure game all about solving mysteries and solving math puzzles.
"A Name Brings Expectations" - Fair or not, the name of a brand evokes expectations and also appeals to the aspects of the brand that fans remember most fondly. A new Batman movie would automatically evoke feelings for the caped crusader, clad in black, terrorizing the criminals of a depraved Gotham City. You wouldn't think "I'm sure it's going to be a hilarious romantic comedy" upon hearing the name Batman. Similarly, a game like "Silent Hill" has a pedigree that is insanely high, what with SH1 and SH2 considered some of the greatest horror games, and even games, of all time. Those games shattered expectations, matured the entire medium of gaming, and left a long shadow over the entire genre that many would agree has not been surpassed in over a decade of gaming. When a new game, or spin-off game, takes those very same elements that were praised for their nuance, sophistication, intelligence, and emotional impact and nullifies them with sweeping changes (such as taking a main villain, Pyramid Head, a very personal embodiment of a specific character's traumatic and repressed psyche, and making him a generic enemy in a hack-and-slash dungeon crawler).
"It's Sometimes Good to Challenge Expectations" - Sometimes. There are many great transitional games that defy gamer fears. Metroid Prime is one of the most beloved games of all time, despite turning a 2D side-scrolling shooter into a 3D first-person adventure game. Fallout 3 somehow managed to thrive, despite basically being a Fallout skin of Elder Scrolls IV. Metal Gear Solid and Street Fighter II were both so radically different and popular that people barely even remember there WERE games before those entries. But... for every success, there are at least three times as many failures. For every Metroid Prime, there is an Other M. For every Street Fighter II, there is a Street Fighter: The Movie: The Game. For every Fallout 3, there's a Syndicate. Fans have every reason to be worried. Until the game is proven to be a success, let them worry. History has not favored taking beloved franchises and retooling them into something new. There are exceptions, but they're just that: exceptions.
"Even a Good Spin Can Be Rejected" - Wind Waker is one of the best Zelda games ever made, aesthetics be damned. Almost nobody will refute that. But... the art style they chose, that radical, bold, expressive cel-shaded look that was lauded by many critics, was still ultimately far less popular than the realistic styles employed by Ocarina of Time and Twilight Princess. It endured on the hand-helds for awhile, but after Wind Waker, the style reverted back to a more mature look on consoles. It wasn't bad; but fans just never got around to embracing it. Some did, of course. Many did not. Even Zelda II wasn't a bad game, but it's all but a footnote in Zelda game history now since fans didn't embrace its many changes.
The same could be said for good changes that backfired, such as Dragon Age 2's streamlined approach to combat and roleplaying. On paper, it sounded like an improvement over DA: Origins in every regard, but it was an inferior game with less likable characters, a less interesting story, bland art and graphics, inferior dungeon and world design, less player choice and customization, and little evolution of the core concepts that Dragon Age: Origins did so well. Or Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts, which is NOT a bad game at all, but nobody asked for a car-based Banjo-Kazooie game and nobody really wanted one either. It could be the best racing game ever, but it's not what fans were demanding. Which leads me to...
"Alternatives Are Great... If the Original Games Still Thrive" - Metroid Prime debuted alongside Metroid Fusion, both of which were great games with different takes on the Metroid formula. We were getting spin-off handheld Zelda games doing bold new things while the console versions appeased the hardcore players. Mario himself is king of the spin-offs, but we can count on him to deliver a proper Mario experience too.
But for many games, there are no alternatives if you were a fan of the older style. So you were a fan of the old-school Resident Evil games that were strictly survivor horror with an emphasis on puzzle-solving and exploration? Too bad. The series is chiefly an action-title now. Are you a fan of Silent Hill's fog-encroached nightmare world of isolation, psychosis, and absolutely brilliant nuance and subtlety? Too bad. The series is in Western hands that think that blood, multiplayer, gunplay, sexy nurses, and Pyramid Head cameos are the true heart of the series. Did you like the exploration, speed-running, isolation, and puzzle-solving of Super Metroid and Metroid Prime? Too bad. Other M makes you go where it wants, is nearly impossible to speed-run, throws a bunch of characters into the mix, and puts all the emphasis on story and ADD action. Did you like well-written, turn-based Final Fantasy games that thrived on exploring, airships, player customization, and player freedom? You won't find much of that here; go play Xenoblade instead.
Mainly, fans of the older games have no alternatives. The types of games they fell in love with are disappearing, homogenizing, and they simply don't have an alternative. And, well, they complain, and rightly complain, because they don't want the spirit of the OLD games to disappear.
If you're a fan of Resident Evil 2... where can you go to play a game like like that? If you're a fan of the original Syndicate,where can you find one that plays like that? If you're a fan of Dead Space 1, is it wrong to prefer isolation over constant multiplayer chatter and to let EA know this?
Lastly...
"A Return To Form is Often Appreciated" - For every Halo: Reach fan, there's a purist out there that swears by Halo 1's pistol. For every fan that Twisted Metal 3 pushed away, Twisted Metal: Black reclaimed. For everyone disappointed in Super Mario Sunshine's lack of platforming, there was TWO Super Mario Galaxy games to appease them... and New Super Mario Bros. for those that were more old-school that THAT. For every fan of 3D Castlevania games, there was a thriving and passionate 2D following on handhelds. Resident Evil: Revelations was the most well-received horror-themed RE game since the Gamecube remake of RE1. Devil May Cry 3 was basically an apology for DMC2 and a return to DMC1's sensibilities. Is it any surprise that the most traditional Sonic game in 20 years, Sonic Generations, is considered the best modern Sonic game? X-Com: Enemy Unknown is getting FAR better press and fan reception than the FPS XCOM. Over and over, we see games that go back to their roots, the ones gamers loved, and embracing them or improving them, and the old fans of old re-investing into the series that they were becoming jaded with due to weird tangent directions and awkward business-led spin-offs.
The games of the past had their own identities pretty much stamped in stone. Over the years, those identities have been slowly erased, either by diluting the brands, milking the franchises, or slapping on popular game titles to games that in no way, shape, or form actually benefit from doing so.
So, "What's in a Name"? An identity. A persona. An experience. An expectation. A desire. Meaning. Purpose. Fulfillment. A good name is one that can take decades to create, but can be destroyed in one single blow. It is both a games' greatest strength and strongest critic. It tells us what a game IS, what it's about, who it's for, and what we hope to glean from buying it and playing it. To misuse that name, to radically alter that name's meaning, is to either be bold in a new direction or to gamble with the integrity of your brand in the hopes that the name alone will carry your title to success.
But a good name is one that is well-earned... and carries the expectations of decades of good-will. That is not something to ignore lightly.
So, yes, a game like "Metroid: Other M" would be a very solid, if forgettable, game by any other name, but it is now part of a franchise where "good" was never good enough, whose games are often listed among the greatest of all time, and whose heroine is a staple of a strong, powerful, independent woman in gaming... so when it fails to live up, or when it flat-out fails in general, it's a far more enraging incident than if another generic shooter with generic gameplay has a generic ending with its generic characters. The more you emotional invest in a series, often because it's good, the more emotional you become when it fails to deliver.
Mass Effect 3's original ending is a prime example. In a generic game, nobody would care. But it wasn't a generic game. It was ME3. The finale of a series of games lauded with awards, praised by critics, awash in high sales, and beloved by legions of gamers who were drawn in and addicted to its lore, depth, and trend-setting, forward-thinking roleplay approaches. A bad end to a bad game is forgettable; a bad end to a great series whose name meant something to you over several years is another.