When I play games, I normally play so I can experience something I could never experience in real life – something fresh. That is why I normally avoid all of those “realistic” racing and sports games. Of course, I will probably never get to drive a Ferrari at insanely fast speeds with no consequences, but I certainly know what it is like to drive a car. So then, when I look for a racing game I need something that allows me to run a bunch of people over at 200 miles per hour. Either that or I need to play games that will equip my vehicle with a vast assortment of rocket launchers, machine guns and other unique weaponry; all of which serve the sole purpose of annihilating other vehicles rather than force me to go around in circles a few times like a headless chicken just to reach a finishing line. I need something with a demented level of carnage to keep me interested, and standard racing games just don’t have that in them.
Of all the vehicular combat games, Vigilante 8: Second Offense was my first. Back in the day, I used to convince my parents that I was sick, so I could sit on my ass and play this game with my brother and sister rather than go to church. What was so intriguing about this game to me was the fact that it not only had a satisfying degree of havoc, but a good dose of humor to balance it out. And this wasn’t the cheap, “potty-mouth” kind of humor either. The humor was in the shear insanity of the game. What game let you destroy a bunch of interesting, well-armed vehicles with a disco-ball special finisher? None other than Vigilante 8!
Similarly, I found countless hours of enjoyment in Carmageddon 2. Like Vigilante 8: Second Offense, this game also combined humor into the inevitable madness of the Car Combat brew, but this time the hilarity was much more dark and twisted. I remember one moment in Carmageddon 2 where I picked up the “pin-ball” power-up, which sent me soaring into the sky after I collided with a wall, only to have me land directly on top of a random police officer standing on top of a skyscraper. Why that cop was standing there, I do not know, but it was hilarious to see him squashed in such a strange manner. To compliment the dark amusement of Carmageddon 2 was a replay feature, which allowed you to rewind and watch your previous actions repeatedly, much like the replay feature in Halo 3.
Obviously I’m a fan of the Car Combat genre, so when I saw a next generation Twisted Metal announced for the PS3, I was thrilled. Visually, the game did not stun me, but it looked like a ton of fun to play. However, I want a resurgence of much more than Twisted Metal. I want to see Vigilante 8 get a proper sequel, not a crappy, soulless Xbox Live Arcade remake. Moreover, I would love to see a new Carmageddon game, and I would surely welcome some new intellectual properties to this some-what obscure genre.
The Car Combat genre needs to make a comeback, and this is the perfect time! I don’t think the Car Combat genre ever made it big, so it’s not like these sorts of games would be dull and unappealing in this age of countless rehashes. I am getting tired of all these modern combat shooters and I am sure other people feel the same way, so it would be refreshing to experience frenzied combat in a different way – with my hands on a wheel rather than a gun. Hell, I don’t even need the games to be excessively violent in order to be entertained. My seemingly unquenchable bloodlust was satisfied in a different way when I played Star Wars Pod-Racing for the N64 (an E rated title). This game replaced the excessive buckets of blood and gore found in Carmageddon with excessive amounts of speed. Sure, I might be able to drive a car at like 150 mph or something (I’m no car expert) but this game let me go more than 800 mph! And I feel that it is either this unrelenting pace and or the carnage of the previously mentioned titles that needs to find its way into racing games more often. Racing Sims shouldn’t be replaced, but there should be something there for the people who don’t care for extensive realism in their driving games.
