Sexual Politics and the Art of the Powerdrift
I have always loved Sega's Outrun. I have never been that great on it in the arcades, admittedly, but I always loved the wonderful (for the time) sprite scaling graphics, the branching courses, the gorgeous gameplay and the superb soundtrack. Magical Sound Shower rules, without a shadow of a doubt.
So when I tried Sega's new version, Outrun2, last time I was in Japan, I did so with a little trepidation. Would my fond retrospective memories still be respected in the morning?
Several hundred yen later, I needn't have worried. As I already knew well from one of my other all-time favourite video games, Crazy Taxi, Sega knows driving games. Sega knows beautifully sunny, summery graphics. And, god, do they know outrageous power slides.
Buying the XBox conversion later that year was obviously a no-brainer. Maybe I was a little concerned as to how well the beautiful visuals would translate to the home; I needn't have worried. Sumo Digital produced a masterly conversion that captured and expanded upon the sublime arcade version.
But I noticed something I found quite interesting.
You would think that a game in which you take your girlfriend for a ride in your "big red sportscar" would be fairly unreconstructedly sexist.
And yet, things aren't as simple as that in the world of Outrun2 and its equally fine sequel, Outrun 2006: Coast to Coast.
For example, as far as I can see, the driver, Alberto (portrayed in the various in-game scenes, as being, shall we say, a bit of a schmuck) does not seem to get very far with any of the lovelies. Generally, he will get fairly close, and then something will happen to him, like him accidently falling over a (short) cliff. Or perhaps being chased off by a mobile Easter Island-esque statue. Or perhaps his Ferrari gets more attention than he does from the babe.
In fact, in Outrun2 in the mission mode, should you mess up a task, your companion reaches over and shakes him back and forth vigourously enough to give the poor man whiplash.
Now imagine the howls of condemnation if the genders in the above scene were reversed.
And not to mention all the strident commands your passengers give you in the Heart Attack mode. Photograph this, race those cars, drift those curvers, feed me this, that and the other. I thought these cars were supposed to be babe-magnets? Seems like all that Ferraris attract are high maintenance women who are considerably more trouble they are worth.
Still, those powerslides, eh? ;-)
So when I tried Sega's new version, Outrun2, last time I was in Japan, I did so with a little trepidation. Would my fond retrospective memories still be respected in the morning?
Several hundred yen later, I needn't have worried. As I already knew well from one of my other all-time favourite video games, Crazy Taxi, Sega knows driving games. Sega knows beautifully sunny, summery graphics. And, god, do they know outrageous power slides.
Buying the XBox conversion later that year was obviously a no-brainer. Maybe I was a little concerned as to how well the beautiful visuals would translate to the home; I needn't have worried. Sumo Digital produced a masterly conversion that captured and expanded upon the sublime arcade version.
But I noticed something I found quite interesting.
You would think that a game in which you take your girlfriend for a ride in your "big red sportscar" would be fairly unreconstructedly sexist.
And yet, things aren't as simple as that in the world of Outrun2 and its equally fine sequel, Outrun 2006: Coast to Coast.
For example, as far as I can see, the driver, Alberto (portrayed in the various in-game scenes, as being, shall we say, a bit of a schmuck) does not seem to get very far with any of the lovelies. Generally, he will get fairly close, and then something will happen to him, like him accidently falling over a (short) cliff. Or perhaps being chased off by a mobile Easter Island-esque statue. Or perhaps his Ferrari gets more attention than he does from the babe.
In fact, in Outrun2 in the mission mode, should you mess up a task, your companion reaches over and shakes him back and forth vigourously enough to give the poor man whiplash.
Now imagine the howls of condemnation if the genders in the above scene were reversed.
And not to mention all the strident commands your passengers give you in the Heart Attack mode. Photograph this, race those cars, drift those curvers, feed me this, that and the other. I thought these cars were supposed to be babe-magnets? Seems like all that Ferraris attract are high maintenance women who are considerably more trouble they are worth.
Still, those powerslides, eh? ;-)
posted by Pochan at
9:27 am
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