the Beach Boys to Kraftwerk, driving’s always been equated with fun,
OK, we know that the latter’s actually ‘fahr’n’ and
kinda means ‘go’, but we’ll stick with the mondegreen as it suits
When it comes to driving games, so too has fun
been the key ingredient. Being able to careen around corners
sideways, defying gravity in a way that’d have your pants
overflowing with gigantic ploppity-ploppies if attempted in real
life. Being free to do so, without a: dying and b: being chastised
by some boring old fun-fascist fart.
It pains us to say, but
that boring old fun-fascist fart is Driveclub itself.
It sounds ace in words – and has since touted as a jewel in the
PS4’s launch crown. Ace visuals, ace real-world cars (well, some –
no Ford?!), ace tracks, ace races, ace drifting, ace time trials,
ace challenges, ace ability to create ace car clubs and score ace
‘fame’ (fame, fickle fame) to unlock ace stuff, or happily be a
follower and join somebody else’s club. Acely, natch.
all here, but save for very pretty graphics “ace” isn’t the first
word that boings to mind. In fact, we kept head-singing The Stooges’
‘No Fun’ throughout innumerable hours trying to find the ace in
Driveclub. But, despite glimpses, it never came.
has nothing to do with the groaning, incapable servers that barely
functioned upon release, either.
Boomeranging to our point – fun - Driveclub
seems purpose-built to stomp upon any outbreaks thereof. Hurtle into
a corner sideways and bump another driver? That’s a penalty.
Slightly cut a corner in a fervent head-rush of excitement at
getting ahead? That’s a penalty. Take a long line and get hit by a
psychotic “We are the robots” AI car? You better believe that’s a
Unless you too are a robot, no fun, my babe, no