Road Rage – The Magic Of The Rash Is Gone

Motorbike games, in general, have a far-from-stellar reputation when it comes to quality and long-term fun. Over the last 30 years of gaming, I honestly think there have been fewer than ten truly fantastic motorbike franchises.

Off the top of my head, the only standouts I can immediately think of are: No second Price, Super Hang-On, Tourist Trophy, Freekstyle, Moto Racer, Joe Danger,

That’s not exactly a massive list when you consider how many racing games we’ve had over the decades.

I had been following Road Rage for quite some time. At one point, it was actually one of my most anticipated titles. But as time passed… I completely forgot about it.

For a reason.

The Color Grey…

From the moment you boot up Road Rage, it’s painfully obvious they’ve been “inspired” — and by inspired, I mean copying with both hands. And visually? It’s a festival of grey. Not stylish grey. Not moody grey. Just all the grey. If the planet officially recognizes 256 million shades of grey, this game made sure none of them went unused.

The Open world design…

Road Rage commits one of the biggest gaming sins: pointless open worlds.

What’s the actual point of driving around a so-called “open world” when there is absolutely nothing to do in it except travel to the next mission marker? No side activities. No meaningful exploration. No surprises. Just empty roads leading to another objective.

It’s barren. It’s glitchy. It’s a mess. And worst of all, there isn’t a single convincing reason why this game needed to be free roam in the first place.

Strip away the hollow map and replace it with a simple mission select screen — or even just a clean progress-based structure — and the whole experience would instantly improve. Less padding, more focus. As it stands, the open world adds nothing except wasted time.

The Mechanics, And Gameplay Design…

I genuinely wanted to like Road Rage. I really did. But once you step back and start looking at all the flaws — all the baffling, head-scratching design decisions — you quickly realise this isn’t a rough gem. It’s a lost cause.

FFS!

The Guessing Game…

Just like in Road Rash, you can attack other riders to make them crash. On paper, that’s a brilliant idea. It’s chaotic, it’s aggressive, it’s fun.

But somehow, Road Rage manages to strip away the very thing that made it enjoyable.

Instead of tactical combat on two wheels, it turns into an awkward guessing game — who gets hit first, and whether the hit will even register properly. The flow is gone. The strategy is gone. It doesn’t matter if you’re swinging a chainsaw or a crowbar — it all feels the same. Weightless. Random. Like a gimmick rather than a system.

In Road Rash, combat had rhythm. Timing mattered. Positioning mattered. Even kicking — simple as it was — added layers of control and risk. That’s completely missing here.

And the ally/revenge system? Gone.
That subtle layer of personality between racers? Gone.
The feeling that your actions had consequences on the road? Gone.

What’s left is a hollow imitation — the outline of something great, but none of the depth that made it special.

No blood?…

As if the empty open world and watered-down combat weren’t enough, the developers clearly decided to chase shock value too.

Yes — you can hit pedestrians. Ram them. Smack them with your weapons. The kind of feature clearly added to spark a reaction, maybe even stir up a bit of controversy.

And sure, for about three minutes, it feels edgy.

Then reality sets in.

There’s no impact. No blood. No real sense of presence or consequence. It doesn’t feel brutal, chaotic, or meaningful — it just feels awkward. Juvenile in the worst possible way. Like a feature added purely to say it’s there.

And the icing on the cake? They added a trophy for hitting 1,000 pedestrians with a weapon.

After eight hours of playing, my grand total sits at 81.

Not because it’s difficult.
Not because it’s strategic.
But because it’s pointless.

If your most controversial feature becomes something players naturally ignore, that says everything about how hollow it really is.

Driving Is Fuuuuuun…

To be fair, the actual driving can be fun at times. It’s not a terrible game.

But it’s nowhere near a good one either.

The formula absolutely screams AWESOME — bikes, weapons, chaos, open roads — it should have been a guaranteed hit. Instead, it’s executed so poorly that it lands squarely in the realm of mediocrity.

The game never truly looks good. It never sounds particularly good either. There’s no moment where it suddenly clicks and impresses you.

And yet… I kept playing.

Not because it deserved it, but because I kept hoping it would finally turn a corner. I will complete it one day too — out of stubbornness more than enjoyment.

Truth be told, I probably would have finished it already if it hadn’t been such a chore to drive across the city just to reach the final few missions. That endless commute drains whatever momentum the game manages to build.

Lost In Development Time…

It almost feels like the developers had a clear vision at the start. Like everything was mapped out — the tone, the systems, the attitude — and then somewhere along the way, someone pulled the plug.

As if development just… stopped.

Yes, it’s a budget title. But being low budget isn’t an excuse. Speed Kings was a budget game. Jacked! was a budget game. They weren’t perfect, but they had style. They had personality. And most importantly — they were fun.

That’s the difference.

I don’t hate Road Rage.
I hate them for what it could have been.

Because buried under the grey visuals, the empty open world, the stripped-down combat, and the baffling design choices… there’s a formula that should have worked. A formula that should have been awesome.

Instead, we’re left with a game that feels unfinished in spirit. Not broken beyond repair — just lacking conviction.

And somehow, that’s even more frustrating.

Story Lines, Why Do They Even Bother…

As if to inject some depth into the experience, Road Rage attempts to spice things up with a storyline.

Unfortunately, it’s not a good one.

Most of it barely makes sense, and the dialogue that pops up on your in-game phone quickly becomes something you instinctively skip. Actually… that’s not entirely fair. It does make some sense. I just skipped it anyway.

Because it’s delivered in such a dull, lifeless way that it’s hard to care.

And that’s where the real disappointment kicks in.

Back in the day, Road Rash on the PlayStation leaned heavily into its FMV style. Cheesy? Absolutely. Over-the-top? Definitely. But it had personality. Those live-action videos were ridiculous in the best possible way — you almost looked forward to losing just to see what would happen next.

That whole layer of charm is completely absent here.

Imagine if Road Rage had embraced something similar — low-budget, self-aware, campy FMV segments that gave the game an identity. Even if the gameplay was rough, at least you’d have something memorable holding it together.

Instead, we get flat phone dialogue and forgettable characters.

And that might be the biggest missed opportunity of them all. 

The Verdict…

So there you have it.

Road Rage is one of those games where my expectations did most of the damage. I wanted it to be great. I expected it to tap into that chaotic magic of bike combat racing. Instead, I ended up feeling genuinely let down.

The game never really tries to be brilliant. So much of it feels half-arsed, half-finished — like an idea that never fully committed to itself.

If you’re craving proper two-wheeled mayhem, you’re far better off revisiting the classics.
The PlayStation era gave us gems like Road Rash, and the Amiga and Mega Drive had their own raw, attitude-filled entries in the series. Those games had personality. They had bite. They had flow.

Road Rage has the blueprint — but none of the fire.

It ends up being yet another “almost” budget title published by Maximum Games. Not terrible. Not broken beyond repair. Just frustratingly average.

As for Team6 Game Studios — they clearly have an interest in driving games (and even VR now), and honestly, we need more developers willing to explore that space. There’s potential there. Real potential.

But this wasn’t it.