I’m worried that I used up all the creative power I had reserved for Burnout on the past two posts, but here it is anyway. If you feel like you’ve got enough of Burnout, then don’t worry about reading this. ‘S all good.
Burnout Paradise Review: Vroom Vroom Pow
Sometimes I wonder why I’m not more of a car aficionado. Toy cars were one of my favorite playthings as a kid. My parents have photographs of me lining up toy cars end to end on the edge of their bed. I remember my grandpa taking me to… must have been some sort of hobby shop… and letting me chose one of the Matchbox cars on display. Even years later, I had my dad take me out to our church parking lot for my first driving lesson on my 14th birthday (the year when kids in Kansas can get their learner’s permit). I didn’t become a pro driver, though, and I can’t tell you the make and model of that car that just passed (unless it’s the Nissan Xterra; it has that funny bump in the back). I became a gamer. So… Burnout Paradise. How about it? Could it put that internal combustion back into my engine (oh snap!)? Maybe not like I was hoping it would, but Burnout Paradise (Burnout: Paradise? Burnout, Paradise?) is still a competent arcade racer. If you can forgive its missteps, then you’re in for more than a few hours of entertainment.
Burnout Paradise follows the story of you, a driver-sprite delivered to this isolated metropolis known as Paradise City. Here you will engage in ritualized racing combat against them. Spin your wheels at almost any intersection and a legion of angry automobiles will descend upon you. You will fight for honor. You will fight for your life. You will fight for Point B.
You break it, you get a better score.
See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com
Alright, so Burnout Paradise doesn’t have a story. It barely even has a mission statement. You want a point? Here’s your point: win all the events you can, get all the cars you can, do all the barrel rolls you can, destroy everything you can, and maybe by the time you’ve burned yourself out, you’ll have a spiffy-looking driver’s license for your trouble. Oh, and try not to let that DJ Atomika guy get under your skin. While he seeks to be the spiritual father to the drivers of the city, he’s not really that helpful.
There’s no story, so what are you going to be doing? Well, once you’re tired of wandering aimlessly about the city, you’re going to be doing events. There’s the standard Race. There’s Stunt Run, where you will promptly forget all the ramps you found while freeburning. There’s Road Rage, which is much like a bar fight, except with a lot more twisted metal. There’s Marked Man, which was going to be a Race until your car told the other cars what it did with their manufacturing plants last night. Finally, there are Burning Routes, car-specific challenges aimed at making half your garage obsolete.
The gameplay aspect that affects almost all these event types is the open world nature of Paradise City. How you reach point B is up to you. If you start at one corner of the city and are tasked with reaching the opposite corner, you likely have some choices to make. You could trace an L-shaped route, or you could try to carve a diagonal line through Paradise. In this way, Burnout tries something different by not focusing on the destination (there are only a few finishing points used for races) as much as how you get there. It appeals to the strategic planning centers of my brain, but whether my plan works or not depends a lot on how well I know the city. More often that not, I don’t. Despite the fact that Criterion Games has gone to all the trouble to name the streets you drive on, this is a racing game, so navigation is going to be based on quick reflexes and sight-recognition (not always easy when the camera angle behind your car is tilted a little too low). In other words, I don’t have time to follow a set of directions from Mapquest. I’m not out of resources; I can look at my mini-map in the corner, though this often results in me plowing into the back of a “civilian” vehicle like an errant missile. I could bring up my full map, even if it breaks game flow. It’s clear that memorization is your best option, I’m just not sure I want to give Paradise City the same amount of attention as I give the real world.
Really? I thought they were DANCING.
See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com
Still, I don’t see any reason to complain about the cars themselves. Collecting them is relatively easy, and they come in three easy-to-understand categories. Driving is easy, drifting is satisfying, the speed gets intense, and your pit stops aren’t really stops at all. Catching air is cool, and doing an unexpected barrel roll make you feel like a pro. Crashes are the whipped cream on the pie, except when it’s not. When I’m pushing the sound barrier and merely grazing a “civilian” car sends me flying spiraling, disintegrating and exfoliating, I’ll just take my pie without whipped cream, thanks. Maybe I can find some ice cream somewhere.
Burnout is for people who want to put the game back in their game, but I can’t say its purity is total. The license upgrading system is clearly for its own sake, taking much the same attitude as the Achievements the game offers. The path is simple; you start out with a Class D license. Winning events will upgrade you to a Class C, B, A, and then a full Driver’s License. If you’re devoted, you can go for an Elite License. But for what? Nothing is unlocked except another car, and you’ve got plenty of those. Paradise City is already open to you, so getting a better license won’t mean you get more space. This must be for bragging rights, because I certainly can’t find a higher purpose here. You’re stuck at a Class B? Bah! Pollute our city no longer, n00b! These hallowed streets are for real drivers!
On top of that, you’ve got a couple sets of collectables to find (and crash through), such as billboards with the game’s logo and glowing yellow gates. What do you do when you’ve smashed through all that? Well, fine sir, let me show you to this DLC over here…
Moving so fast, East Crawford is gonna be West Crawford.
See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com
Criterion watches over it’s DLC like a collector watches over his antique car: he’ll let you look, but not touch… unless you pay him money for it. Downloadable cars are featured prominently in the menus, but until you pay, it’s just window shopping for you. Then there’s Big Surf Island, a whole new area of the game under quarantine until you pay for a pass. This is a game with Netflix ads on the billboards, but it’s a little ironic that the most obnoxious in-game advertising is for Criterion’s own products. Yes, I know Big Surf Island is available. I don’t need to see it every time the colors of Paradise City are flown, or every time I open my map. It’s not a player-friendly campaign, and the thrifty may only see it as an excuse not to pay.
Burnout Paradise is a good game with flaws. It’s a fast game that often grinds you to a halt. It’s a straightforward game that leads you to get sidetracked. Despite my griping, I would give it a good rating, overall. You could do worse than Burnout Paradise.
Notes
-DJ Atomika, the only character in the game, is well-voiced.
-Street signs light up at night, but are illegible—a bigger, higher-def-er TV than I used might fix that.
-Updates to the game make you go through more screens before you can actually play.
-Linking up with a friend online is surprisingly easy.
-Everyone can do a double barrel roll but me. :-(
