I think you have to bear in mind that many reports from pilots in the era of WW1 were tainted by a lack of knowledge. A good many modern pilots who have flown aircraft with genuine WW1 engines have reported that the original estimates of their horsepower are wildly inaccurate, so you have the problem of the internal combustion engine being a relatively new device, in combination with the infancy of practical aerodynamics. The design choices for both often being as much a case of trial and error as sound theory. Witness the classic example of that happening, with the Germans copying the sesquiplane layout of the Nieuport in an attempt to match its maneuverability, but neglecting to include the variable incidence feature of its lower wing, instead sticking two spars in the wing, but not bothering to attach the second spar to the fuselage. Not to mention doing all that with a much heavier aeroplane.
Additionally, WW1 performance reports are sometime best treated with suspicion for other reasons, as there were occasionally ulterior motives for them. One well known example of that phenomenon is
Albert Ball, who declared the SE5 to be 'a dud aeroplane', and indulged in installing ridiculous things on it such as a machine gun firing through the floor, which could not have been in any way practical. Yet his opinion on aircraft design was sought by Austin, who designed a singularly ugly fighter based on his suggestions. His attempts to dismiss the SE5 as a poor design were clearly motivated by attempting to promote his own fighter design. The same thing occurred in Germany and in France, with several big pilot names being involved with aircraft manufacturers, influencing, or attempting to influence, production and purchasing decisions.
It's no secret that
Manfred Von Richthofen was not the world's best in terms of piloting skill, being much more a tactician than an aerial artist, yet he was often consulted by Fokker when it came to aircraft design. And whilst it is often supposed that such designers as Fokker could do very little wrong, Anthony Fokker produced numerous ridiculously poor designs alongside his more well known successes, including the preposterous V8 quintuplane, with five wings set in a group of three near the nose and two more halfway down the fuselage, the entire theory being based on nothing more than the ill-thought out notion that if a plane with three wings was good, then surely one with even more wings would be better.
Such things were not limited to the drawing boards either. If you read
James McCudden's
Flying Fury biography, you find that McCudden was made an assistant flight instructor at a flying school after having made just a few flights in the pilot's seat. The first time he spun an aircraft, he didn't even know it was a spin, and simply got lucky in applying rudder to recover the thing, yet he is regarded as one of the Great War's better pilots. There is no doubt he was a good pilot by the time of his death, but that anecdote gives one an idea of how little genuine science and knowledge there was around in the early years of WW1.
So it is hardly surprising that a fighter which was easily spun should be regarded with derision in a era where a good many pilots were terrified of even trying to spin an aeroplane, since a lot of them hadn't the first clue about how to effect a recovery.
Javier Arango, who owned the Pfalz DIII replica built for the movie The Blue Max, is on record as stating that it is nice to fly, but is heavy on the ailerons (like most WW1 aircraft), but it is not particularly stable. Of course that is not a real Pfalz, being based on a Tiger Moth, but it did have new wings and a new tail assembly built to make it look like one, so it is more or less like the original Pfalz DIII in a good many respects.
Nevertheless, there is rarely smoke without fire, and many pilots berated the Pfalz as not one of the better craft of the war. But then again, the Sopwith Camel was not that great an aeroplane in many respects either; it was hard to fly, slower than almost every other aircraft in the sky (including two seaters and bombers), and all but useless above 12,000 feet. But it managed to nail hundreds of German aircraft. Maybe the Pfalz could have done so too had it not gained the reputation it did, which I suspect is probably not so deserved as one might imagine when looking at the bigger picture.
Al