At its very worst, Ride to Hell is offensive on philosophical and intellectual levels, but for the most part, it’s mind-numbingly tedious.
Now, if all this sounds like one of those “so bad its good” experiences, where you just have to play it for yourself, I sincerely warn against it. The developers certainly cannot hide behind the idea that it’s a parody of the era, considering the rest of the story tries so desperately to make us take it seriously, and there’s absolutely nothing provided to let us believe any attempt at humor is ever made during the course of the game. One wonders whether the fine people at Eutechnyx actively hates women, or merely views them as subhuman toys. Imagine the cheeky Grindhouse style of The House of the Dead: Overkill, only drained of all its joy. Imagine it interspersed with pitiful attempts to look like Road Rash, only the thrilling bike combat has been replaced by prompted button mashing. Imagine the classic PS2 game Total Overdose, but stripped of its charm, openness, and ambition.
Over-saturated QTEs move at such a pace you’d think you were learning shapes on Sesame Street. For a game that places a heavy emphasis on riding a motorcyle, there are no real motorcycle physics to speak of, the slightest nudge sending your bike flying into the air or through solid concrete floors. Textures don’t so much pop in as consistently phase between existence and oblivion. Each cutscene shimmers with multiple screen tears that flicker in unison. Rather than unfinished, I’d suggest the game feels barely started. To say the game feels unfinished is to prove inadequate at portraying exactly how clunky, ugly, and downright broken Ride to Hell is.
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