Riders Republic, Analysis. You, Me, A Ravine And A Bike

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Riders Republic: We take a look at Ubisoft’s extreme sports MMO, a game full of surprises that makes the seemingly impossible work and offers something unique and special. We all know Hugo Simpson here, right? Yes man! Do not put that face that surely does. We mean Bart’s evil twin brother. The one who lived in the attic and ate fish heads. The one that appeared in a Halloween special of The Simpsons and that in the end, despite appearances and how they had treated him, turned out to be good and had to be integrated back into society. Well, the Riders Republic story has a lot in common with Hugo’s. He has an unrecognized twin brother (Forza Horizon), an ugly look that is easy to think ill of, and characters and commentators who should be fed separately. And no fish heads. Scrapes. The fact is that, as happened with Hugo, Riders Republic has ended up being a good game. What wood, it ended up being great.

From the edgy era to the cringe era

In MeriStation we have already talked about the edgy era of video games and the shame of others that sagas such as Prince of Persia, Jak & Daxter or Sonic gave during those years. The industry went through its own turkey age, its own adolescence, and went through a little streak of releases in which heavy metal, half-naked chicks, dark colors and nightmare monsters seemed mandatory. Oh, and it would be cool. Much swagger. It was like being in a teenager’s room. We changed Las Arenas del Tiempo (light, magic and romanticism) for things like El Alma del Guerrero, whose beginning was a close-up of an ass with a tiny thong. In the sequel to PoP, the first line of the Prince’s script (much more tormented, much more “bad”) consisted in calling the owner of said rear a whore (harpy in Spanish, bitch in the original). Seeing is believing. Little happens to us. And although we now contemplate the past with a smug smile, no one should claim victory. Titles like Riders Republic show us that we haven’t gotten over it yet. Who knows. We may never finish doing it.

We have gone from the edgy era of video games to the cringe era; from adolescence to the crisis of the forties. Riders Republic is one more name for that list of titles today that go from modern, countercultural, cool and cool (although these last two terms also identify us as boomers). A list that begins to be embarrassingly long and in which, well, how curious, they all have something in common. They all boast of a hooligan look with which they want to look young, but they actually smell like mothballs. Most of its members remember Mr. Burns disguised as Jimbo. Many even run the same fate (that is, they end up being little more than a meme). This is not the case with Riders, but almost. He has gone for a hair.