Tokyo Xtreme Racer review

My rival disappears into the night with a burst of nitro, and I have no choice but to put my foot to the floor and weave through heavy traffic, holding my breath as I chase after them, squeezing between cars and scraping roadside barriers to keep up. After some shunting, shoving, and a bit of luck I pull ahead and finally leave them behind—but there's no finish line to cross here.

That's because Tokyo Xtreme Racer isn't interested in pure speed, or points, or getting the best lap time around a defined circuit, but racing. I win when I crush my opponent's spirit (represented by a fighting game-style bar across the top of the screen), and I'm allowed to use any means necessary to do it. Maybe I pull away and then maintain a demoralising distance. Maybe get in close then them from the side, shoving their beautiful paintwork into a metal barrier, or force them to choose between braking and ramming into the back of a random car. Maybe I do a bit of both, my tactics adapting to whatever stretch of road we happen to be racing on at the time.

I just need to prove I'm better than them.

Fight night

Such intensely personal rivalries are only believable if there's someone worth fighting on Tokyo's lamp-lit streets, and luckily for me Tokyo Xtreme Racer's happy to deliver an extensive and diverse roster of potential adversaries. There are themed teams to go up against, experienced old racers hanging around parking areas, and weird custom cars I hear about in rumours from racing fans. I might run into demanding drivers who will only agree to a battle if I'm driving a specific vehicle, and others who only show up on certain days of the week.

It's these personalities that make Tokyo Xtreme Racer different from Forza, or Ridge Racer, or really any other racing game I've ever played.

Every single rival in waiting owns a unique vehicle, has their own pleasantly ridiculous handle (how can anyone not enjoy battling "Love's Ace Shooter" or "Aki With The Over-The-Top Nails"?), and even their own backstory, the personality glimpsed within reflected in their driving style. It's just enough to make each loss feel like a personal insult, while still leaving them abstract enough for the game to maintain its slightly dreamy nocturnal aura.

Instead of funneling me into a lengthy tournament-like system with these 100+ drivers I'm instead shown a map revealing everyone's location before leaving my garage for the night. Clear icons and organised lists make it easy to quickly pick one specific group or particular rival to track down this evening, and in just a few button presses I'm dropped off at the closest unlocked ramp to my chosen target and left to get on with it. When I do catch up with them I flash my headlights and, assuming they're open to race, our battle begins right there and then. Halfway round a tight bend. Just before a long bridge. Stuck in the middle of traffic.

Born to drive

This seeming lack of structure is actually one of the game's core strengths, the freedom on offer introducing new tactics and fresh difficulties based on an ever-changing combination of location, car, rival, and my own preferred driving style. Every area I discover has its own visual flourish and unique driving quirks, something specific to see or do. The New Circular Route, with its towering suspension bridge and almost starry white lights feels a million miles away from the tight curves bathed in warm yellows of Ginza, or the long, long straight found in Higashi Ogishima.

I look forward to battles on what I feel is my home turf, familiar turns ready to be taken at speed, and groan inwardly when a rival heads off somewhere my skills don't shine quite so brightly. It's never just road: It's not a good idea to challenge someone I have trouble overtaking in an area with high walls and narrow roads, or to take on a car with powerful acceleration on a long straight. I want to, as much as possible, bide my time and battle in places that suit me and my current machine.

But that's not the only way to gain an advantage. I can be the one who dares to squeeze through a narrow gap between them and a concrete pillar. The one who refuses to brake first as we plough headlong into traffic. The one who nudges them into a crash barrier and then relies on quick acceleration to get away before they can recover. There's always something I can do to transform what at first appears to be certain defeat into a memorable victory, even when my car is hopelessly outclassed.

Xtreme Racer is so generously freeform even not racing against named rivals comes with its own rewards. There's nothing to stop me flashing my headlights at any car on the road, as almost everyone around—even nameless "filler" cars that are otherwise nothing more than obstacles—is happy to engage. These nobodies are encouragingly easy opponents when starting out, and later on help to silently set the mood: I know they'd still put their foot down for a quick battle if asked, as if there's something about the night air that gets everyone in the mood to race.

Aimlessly driving around also brings up fun ways to test my technique. The entire map's littered with speed traps and timed segments, the UI quietly letting me know if there's one coming up and then leaving me to decide whether I'm going to floor it and test my car's top speed/improve my fastest time on a specific portion of the course. There are (small) additional monetary awards for any near misses, drifting, and clean corners I happen to experience too.

Just existing in this space is encouraging, the game eager to reward the slightest effort of any kind and giving me the flexibility to be as serious about my driving session as I want to be. I often start a night with a specific goal in mind and then quickly forget all about it when I hit the asphalt, happy to meander around and just enjoy drifting through the night, going wherever I want to race purely for the fun of it.

In tune

This relaxed attitude extends to the cars themselves. Do I want to dig deep, turning a casual spin into something more sim-like where tyre wear is constant and I'm expected to keep oil and water temperatures in mind? I can—but there's no penalty if I don't. I can also pick a car just because I like the shape and spend the next hour adding custom stickers and unique hubcaps to it.

In fact the visual customisation options in here are so in depth I could easily lose an entire day dressing up my ever-expanding garage's selection. Whether I'm driving something that looks like it came straight out of Initial D or a supermarket car park, I can fuss over a clutch of caliper options and wonder which side skirt goes best with the spoiler I've just fallen in love with.

Improving the performance underneath their freshly waxed bonnets doesn't have to be a chore thanks to a perk tree split into a small selection of easily understood tabs. These cover everything from internal upgrades and new vehicles to equippable driver skills and discounts on new parts. Some of these are locked until I've found and defeated a specific "boss" driver—just another thing to add to my list of fun things to do while I'm out and about.

At the end of a spending spree I'll probably have some new and completely generic car parts (Brake lv.2, for example) available to purchase for my cars, their benefits always easily understood thanks to the game using a simple "green numbers are good, red numbers are bad" system. And I can leave the technical side of it there if I like, swapping out Transmission lv.1 for Transmission lv.2 as soon as I'm able before driving off into the night.

But, just like everything else in Xtreme Racer, how seriously I take this aspect of the game is up to me. The car setting menu's ready whenever I am, enabling me to fiddle around with suspension damper balance, ride height, gear ratios, and a lot of other things that to be honest I am generally happy to leave well alone, even if I do appreciate their inclusion.

All these tweaks, whether they're big, small, or purely aesthetic, transform my cars and the races I have in them into something truly personal. If I lose a battle I don't rush off to the dealer to buy something more stereotypically sporty; I want to win in my car. So I knuckle down, pride on the line, and try again (and again, sometimes), and become a better driver almost by accident.

Victory lap

Accidental improvement comes often and effortlessly in this game, every driver I encounter by chance and then manage to defeat in an impromptu race leaving me one step closer to clearing an entire team, every corner I manage to drift around flawlessly providing me with a little extra cash to spend on upgrades and other enhancements. It captures the joy of street racing in all its forms, smoothly switching gears from action so intense I'm leaning forwards in my seat to casual drives purely for the sake of enjoying being in my car in the flash of a headlight.

This casual adaptability, combined with a seemingly endless supply of often seconds-long challenges in an impressive number of forms, means the game's never easy or hard, it just is. Every drive is unique—and every race I choose to participate in is as intense, surprising, and enjoyable as the first one.