Grip: Combat Racing
$69 | PC, PS4, XBOX ONE | ORIGIN.COM Little more than a forgettable throwback.
This is a a throwback to the arcade-style racers that didn’t stand the test of time. For Caged Element, it’s 1999’s Rollcage that’s desperately needing a reboot two decades on, and that isn’t exactly considered a classic today. GRIP is often able to evoke those better memories, as your four-wheeled machine tears through the side of a canyon to thumping drum-and-bass. But moments like this are scattered throughout a soulless, unpolished package.
The key here is that when going fast enough, cars will grip to any surface, leading to maps that flip from wall to ceiling to floor. It’s often fantastic, and tumbling down one of GRIP’s many winding tunnels is great fun. But cars are too easily sent into dead ends. Maps feature many obstacles that stop players in their tracks, rather than leading them back on course. I have had to hit that restart button more often than not after a catastrophic crash.
GRIP’s a looker in a certain sense, loaded with motion blur and dramatic lighting.
It’s fine overall, but lacks detail or personality. We never see who’s behind the wheel of these bonkers vehicles beyond faceless figures in cartoonishly drawn loading screens. Maps span a mix of biomes, but nothing you haven’t seen before. Mountains, wastelands, forests, all scattered with sci-fi greebles. It’s often exhilarating, if rarely inspiring, although the city maps fall flat as racers power down empty streets past featureless buildings.
There’s a lengthy campaign that unlocks new pickups, race types, vehicles and levels over time. It’s plenty to keep coming back to, but it’s all delivered so flatly. Combined with a janky UI, there’s an overwhelming sense of cheapness. Still, it’s fine if you’re yearning for some arcadey racing. The Battle and Carkour (car parkour, get it?) modes are forgettable, but there’s a competent variety of tracks and race modes to get your fill. GRIP simply needed to show that it could be more than a cover band performing a forgettable ’90s track. Natalie Clayton