GRID: Legends

GRID Legends touts a nemesis system (unfortunately no relation to Shadow of Mordor’s), one which feels like a massive missed opportunity. When you annoy other drivers too much, they become rivals… and that’s about all that happens. As far as I could tell, these organic “rivalries” never lasted beyond a single event. They only developed from contact, not any less aggressive transgression. There was little I could do to influence the system. When I hit them they got mad. When they were mad they hit me back. Not much else to it. If this was more similar to the ongoing Nemesis system exploited by Talion and Celebrimbor, there would be something here, a real sense of engagement with these other drivers. As superficial as it was, it left me focussed on its empty promise. I don’t know why this concept was in the game - certainly not so prominently - if all they really do is detract from the final product.

The conceit of the story mode is something similar to a sports documentary series. In a combination perfect for staying just interesting enough, not spinning out into complete melodrama or farce, the story is suitably dramatic while the presentation errs on the side of understated. Like many good sports stories, it leans towards the extreme end of unusual (in one season, we have 2 simultaneous underdogs with unprecedented success, a major injury and ensuing comeback story, the on- and off-track downfall of a reigning champ that's just a little too slimy). It’s boilerplate in its extremities and nothing the written narrative does makes up for the missed opportunities where ludic narratives could have been nurtured. Rivalries and partnerships should have been built on top of the foundation of gameplay. Instead, they’re clumsily tacked onto it through these cutscenes and radio calls. The problems were clear during my time in the semi-pro league as Driver 22. My manager wanted me to take down Voltz, with special focus on their driver Valentin Manzi. Manzi didn't really feature too much in my actual races. Other AI drivers, such as Raul Popescu (you probably haven’t heard of him, and that’s the point), were more prominent. They got in my way, I chased them down and drifted into them, we jockeyed for position until the game marked them as a nemesis. I rarely had beef with Voltz, and jostled with Manzi’s teammate Lauri Dixon more often than the man himself, but I did see promise in the system. Unfortunately, GRID Legends seems to only have implemented enough of the potential in these systems to create a facade of competitive spirit.

This unwillingness to trust the narrative to the player’s steering wheel is even harsher during the overall experience of Legends’ story mode than it is in the moment to moment races.

My successes and failures on the track did little to alter or dissuade the intended progression of the narrative in this area. When I was hitting podium finishes and my partner Yume was spending races at mid-pack, failing to push with me, the story was focussing on her doubts about being partnered with an amateur. Nevermind that I was the one carrying Seneca, that she was clearly letting us down. The narrative was written for the amateur to step up to the level of the lead driver, even as I played out the opposite story. There’s that classic mid-movie run of success, told in a cutscene montage, where Yume and 22 hit podium after podium, but it came after I'd placed alone again and again, so it rang hollow. Why did the top 3 placements mean more when I was no longer the one earning them? That’s a terrible story for a video game to tell. During this period, after Driver 22 had really earned Yume's trust, I would accidentally knock into her - every time without repercussion. Shouldn’t the game have reprimanded me? I expected the radio to explode with the fury of my partner and support crew. Instead, these incidents passed without comment. It’s silly that even the underwhelming nemesis mechanic was better implemented than partners. Forget Legends trying to make you work with your teammate. It can’t even pretend that you’re actually on their side throughout a race.

Ultimately, neither rivals nor partners felt real because of these gaps. The narratives are too superficial, limited to cutscenes rather than allowed to run wild during gameplay. What I’m left wondering is why there’s such an emphasis on partners if they don’t matter? Rivals kind of makes sense - it’s a simple way to discourage reckless driving, while mirroring the scripted dynamics that are the focus of the story. But partners are pushed in the story and gameplay alike, with an emphasis on Yume’s story and her relationship with the player character, as well as multiple upgrade trees (although they’re very simple) to improve your partner’s performance. Maybe you could say it’s just part of selling the racing documentary experience. Race teams have two drivers, a lot of the story is about the dynamics between partners, etc. etc. But why not carry that into gameplay? Why not actually make the game about working with a teammate and navigating rivalries? Because it’s hard, sure, I get that. And because it would endanger the story they wanted to tell. Also, making players play to a certain level, to interact with one driver differently than they do the other 20, might be too complex, too demanding, too much of an imposition on the casual player.

All of these justifications are logical, fair. They’re very real design and marketability constraints. But. But. Accepting them means accepting mediocrity. It means accepting that you have made a video game with a scripted narrative as a tech showcase, as a marketing feature, when engaging ludonarrative was right there for the sculpting. It means mechanics are put in place for show, not for real impact. Partners and rivals and in GRID Legends because that’s the kind of relationships race drivers have. But that isn’t the  kind of relationship GRID players get to have. They live out a superficial version of this racing fantasy, not immerse themselves in a dynamic recreation of these behaviours. Without this, it’s just another racing game pretending to be a little special. A real push for an engaging, emergent rival system and partner relationships could have done some wonderful things. Instead of a showy sports story, we could have had the simple tale of a new kid on the biggest racing stage. Rivals could have emerged dynamically, some fading into the background while others trading podium finishes back and forth with players. Teammates could have changed, and actual incentive for both to work together could have been there. I understand why they chose to make a more conventional racing game with only lip service to these rival and partner elements. That doesn’t mean I’m going to praise such a superficial implementation of these ideas. It might sound like a ridiculous criticism, that I’m expecting all of these extra systems to be developed and implemented and fine-tuned. But I’m not the one who said that rivals and teammates would feature so prominently. Games are spaces of play, spaces of interaction. Adorning them with the superficial is so often a distraction or actively detracting, as it was here.

This all leaves GRID Legends feeling more like a product than an empowered artistic attempt. It’s the age-old dilemma in video game criticism, especially reviews. Is the video game reviewer a writer of technology or culture? Are they looking for how well a product works, or how emotionally resonant an artistic endeavour is? As a product, I can’t criticise Legends too much. I didn’t notice any technical problems, certainly no crashes or save issues. Not that I would notice minor framerate or texture issues. My eye is unkeen, you might say. There’s a lot of stuff to unlock, something I would normally criticise, but it feels a little more appropriate here. Cars are machines, after all, and it makes more sense for them to have rigidly controlled stats than it does for fantastical beings and items of power. Maybe I’m being too nice to progression mechanics in my writing lately. I’ll try and make up for that soon, but GRID gets a pass. I can’t review the driving experience at a high level, but as a casual player it scratched the right itch. Everything it attempts it does fine. It’s all fine. There’s just that alluring suggestion of more, of some of that real video game magic, the cinema of ludology that I alluded to when discussing Mafia. It’s all there on the surface, but it isn’t under the hood. Codemasters had a chance to sculpt a masterpiece of interactive narrative on the track, but they chose to script a mildly entertaining docudrama instead. You can play it and enjoy it, but you won’t be gushing about it.