187 Ride or Die review

You have no idea how close I was to writing this review much different than how it turned out. Like always, I play videogames with a pen and pad in close proximity. That way I can make sure I remember the smaller details that matter.

So, what started as a couple of small notes on things like the soundtrack, the graphics, the way the car handled and the story soon gave way to dozens of quotes lifted straight from this dire excuse for interactive entertainment.

Quotes that someone somewhere probably believes are cool and will sell this sort of game. The truth is, if you happen to find such dialogue as, “It’s on and pop lockin in the hood!” cool, you need your head examined more than Ubi Soft.

“This is how ya do the dizzle, ya heard?”

Neither the aforementioned pop lockin quote, or the piece in the above sub-header are the worst culprits however. Some other delights come in the form of, “Let’s do the thang!” “Dis is how it’s done, gangsta!” “Hold on tight, playa!” “That’s how we do it, G Rida!” and my personal favourite, “Try dat shit again!”

It’s like we’re taking part in a parody of life in the hood. Which would be fine if the game even had a sense of humour. Instead it has all the charm and wit of a 50 Cent video. And the acting’s just as bad.

You play Buck. Buck has absolutely no character development beyond the fact he owes the big boss of the city his life. Years back the big boss made something of Buck. Gave him money, girls and guns. Made him a player, as it were.

Now the time has come to repay that favour when a new cat hits the streets. His name is Cortez and he has a bald head and expensive suit. He’s a threat to the big boss, and thus he’s a threat to you when you’re charged with taking him out.

Rockets n’ the Hood

It just so happens that taking Cortez out does not mean incorporating a little subterfuge and paying a friendly visit to his abode. No, it means jumping into one of several vehicles and taking part in a bunch of races. Herein lies the game’s first problem.

When you’re dealing with an environment that allows weapons and boost pickups to be collected throughout the track, it’s evident you’re not playing entirely in the realm of realism. But 187: Ride or Die makes no excuses for this aspect of the game – nor does it provide a succinct explanation for why you’re racing these suckers in the first place.

In theory a game like this could work – and it could work well. Taking its cues from Carmageddon or Twisted Metal, Buck is thrust into a large city environment and tasked with taking down copious cronies’ cars. The more goons you kill, the more the city opens up.

It’s certainly a much more interesting concept than what we have in the execution.

John Singleton this ain’t

We do have some diversity, however. One of the game’s standout alterations on the racing theme is that it only allows the pick up of mines. You can carry three altogether, and drop them anywhere on the track to throw the opposition off.

Elsewhere, that deathmatch-style alternative I spoke of seems to rear its head for a moment or two when you’re dropped in a small arena (a cordoned off section of the city) and asked to take out several enemies before they take you out.

Areas like this may challenge the racing archetype, but the sorry truth is that they’re just as boring. Part of that is down to the design of the these sections, while another part is down to how it controls.

With the boost button as L1 and brake as Square, sometimes you’ll find yourself inadvertently boosting into a bend when you meant to break around it. Or breaking when you really meant to boost.

Menace to Society

Interesting though, 187: Ride or Die is one of the PS2’s better looking debacles. On a sheer destructive scale it’s a beauty. Not only can you blow up the opposition – you can ruin small chunks of the environment and watch them continue to burn throughout the race.

But really – that’s about the only noteworthy thing in this game. My advice is to forget about this one. Bother yourself with something violent, adult and controversial for all the right reasons.

Like, say, Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.