Almost 20 years ago back in 2004 I bought Burnout 3: Takedown. Not exactly a groundbreaking declaration but you have to understand I'm not really into racing games. Buying this pretty much new at launch on a whim isn't exactly standard behaviour for me. The thing is upon trying it, this game had us utterly hooked. I say us because a friend and I took it in turns playing race by race. Unlocking every car, trying to get higher scores, faster times, every gold medal. We couldn't stop playing it and occasionally we still talk about it in conversation.

That friend moved to the other side of the country over a decade ago sadly. We still game all the time online together as technology has moved on. At least twice a year though I go and stay with him for a couple of weeks to drink, shop and play games together in person. Reliving our late teens and early 20's. I just spent the last week with him and whilst walking in town, what do we see? Burnout 3: Takedown. Needless to say we bought it, went back to his to play it in his newly organised retro game room. (So jealous, especially of the large framed Streets of Rage 2 poster). We then proceeded to be taken back in time to where it was the two of us eating snacks playing games together.

I saw a comic strip recently how playing games now doesn't give the same sort of excitement as when you are a kid. This just simply isn't the case because reliving Burnout 3 from my is still an absolute blast. The game has aged remarkably well. It's fast, blisteringly so. The frame rate is smooth as scenery whips by with every near miss of traffic as you nitrous boost into a corner a thrill. It plays extremely well, each car's arcade handling is smooth and the engine sound effects as you barrel towards oncoming traffic just brings everything together. The thing that always impressed us though were the crash effects of bonnets crumpling, wheels flying off as the carnage ensues from ramming someone into a bridge pillar. The crash physics are so good they created a whole mode for it setting you up to pile into traffic and cause as much damage as possible. Nothing more satisfying than jack knifing an arctic into a tuc tuc then exploding your wrecked car into a camper van in the other lane.

There are other race types too such as elimination where you have to stay ahead of your opponents as last place is removed each lap. The AI can be super aggressive here forcing you to wipe them out to stay ahead. Burning lap which is basically a speed trial. Some need perfect nitrous boosting the entire course to get gold on. Rampage which is about taking out as many opponents as you can in a set time limit, or before your battered car gives up the ghost. There is a huge amount of content here, this is back before unfinished games were released and patched or before half the cars were locked behind a microtransaction store.

If I had to knock anything about it, it's that while I love the garage band type music that blasts whilst racing, the "crash FM" commentator does get a little annoying butting in with nonsense while your racing. However it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things as the rest is so very good. My friend's wife who came in, saw us playing and laughing as the front end of our car got put into the back end from a head on collision simply said, "boy game" and walked out.

But it's a fun broom, broom boy game.

+ Holds up amazingly well technically and in how it plays.
+ Great variety of modes.
+ Crashing is often brutal and hilarious.

- Commentator can get irritating.

When I saw this game brought up in "best racing games of all time" or hell even "best games of all time" lists, I thought it was exaggerated hyperbole. I thought that this game was likely a good racing game that people overhyped due to the fact that racing games aren't necessarily a genre that people really immerse themselves in. But now that I've played it, I can wholeheartedly say that no, it is not a bit, this shit owns.

So unlike Burnout 2, where your car was fueled by adrenaline, in this game your car is fueled by the blood of your rivals. Sure, you could (and still should!) get boost by driving dangerously, but the real way to earn speed is by ramming your enemies into anything that could turn them from functional race car to smoldering scrap heap. For every takedown, not only does it reward you with a full bar of boost meter, but each takedown multiplies your maximum amount of boost. Slamming into an opponent, watching them smash into a trillion pieces, then zooming away from the crime scene at a billion miles per hour with the boost that it earned just fills me with the most shit-eating-grin ass energy. Even if you are on the receiving end of a takedown, you can still control your midair wrecked car to try and take people out with you, and doing so respawns you with all the benefits of a regular takedown. Everything is engineered to turn races into hyperaggressive deathmatches between a few insane racers in a city trying as hard as they possibly can to kill each other. Absolute banger, a must-play whether you like racing games or not.

Oh, and the soundtrack is entirely made up of the highest-tier 2000s pop punk/alt rock complete with doofy radio station with the most goobery-ass host covering everything that goes on in the game. BASED.

Um dos jogos de corrida de todos os tempos. Burnout 3: Takedown é um arcade em seu mais puro estado, focando na diversão acima de tudo. O trabalho de revitalização da Criterion aqui foi exemplar, deixou a mesma temática dos 2 primeiros mas mudou completamente a dinâmica. Oferecendo uma gameplay mais agressiva, frenética e intensa, Burnout 3 brilha com seus viscerais Takedowns que não deixam o jogo parar em nenhum instante, o ritmo sempre vai estar no topo. "Você não dirige pelo transito, você luta contra o transito".

I had so much fun with this game back in the day.
I’d host tournaments with my roommate, my sister, my nephew and my roommate’s younger cousins.
See who could cause the biggest crashes.
Out of all the Burnouts, 3 had the best Crash mode.
I wish I still had it.

The prior seconds pass with the enormity of centuries. Scattershot shrapnel peppers the asphalt, signaling the arrival of two street demons, both careening through air in a ludicrous display of car-nal car-nage. Like detached limbs, their wheels flail freely, in defiance of death itself, rolling to an uneventful stop against the guardrail. Launched beyond the rail’s comforting bounds, misfortuned motorists find their engines extinguished, their windshields splintered and scattered haphazardly. For what it’s worth, it's a spectacle with little to show for it; the same crumpled wreckages find themselves sprinting down the stretch once again, leaving little but metal and skid marks. Coming to my senses, parallel with the rail, I’m lightheaded and weak.

My ribs are a fine powder, my liver a congealed mass, my brain pulsing red-light, green-light pain and shock overdoses… but my machine roars to life. A gentle nudge of the accelerator eases her back on the straight-ahead, but an injection of noxious nitrous oxide pumps searing adrenaline through her veins – With a banshee’s scream, she climbs to 100, 120, 150, 200 miles per hour. The prying eyes piercing into the roll cage soon burn into spectral light, their lesser vehicles little more than dust against my almighty steed. Lost in the cacophony of merciless thieves, I give chase to secure what’s rightfully mine – The dizzying height, the brightest shine, the golden flow of first place. But my rivals, backstabbers and bastards all, seem poised to pilfer perfection from me once again.

It’s a trio ahead – The former deceased pair, and an impervious highway star leading the pack. In an endless stretch, it’d be a massacre, but with less than two miles left, the nerves start wearing me down. First is the rookie mistakes – a drift too harsh here, a grind against the median there, hell, even a full-scale collision to spice things up, but all too soon I’m peering down invisible crosshairs at the weakest link. Everything happens fast as I shotgun a final blast of nitro into a purring motor, my chariot a battering ram; the lesser of the twins crumples underfoot, ripped in two as hopeless fourth bashes into the corpse. The wiser twin falls just as simply; grinding against my steel chassis, they neglected to peek the eighteen-wheeler hurtling headlong. I can barely make out a resentful curse from the driver’s seat as the million-dollar machine is mulched.

And then, it was you, me, and the finish line. And brother, I wish our tale ended oh so simply, but either through fate or karma, neither of us were to receive fated first that day. It was as it always goes, in the United States, across Europe, to the far off shores of Asia – Even at our best, neither of us expected a humble family of four to be our downfall. You crashed into the van, as expected, but as if touched by a vengeful spirited, your shell bashed into me, and I into the monorail over yonder. Seeing this moment of weakness, hopeless fourth charges, pointless fifth overtakes, and… impossible sixth takes home the gold – My gold.

Still, I can’t help but laugh. Over a hundred gold metals, and I’m still caught off-guard, still left to ponder what-ifs and what-abouts. Pulling a swift 180, I curve my car along the backroad, glancing at the glistening lights in the rearview. With a smile, I hit boost once again… Launching myself directly into the busy highway, where a city bus embraces me at 90 miles per hour.

I wake, still slumped along the guardrail. The dual gods of speed soar overhead, colliding with the gathering crowd. With a flick, I boost back into the race. For one last time, let’s go for gold.

Very fun game! one of the best arcade racers, it perfects the blend of chaos and high speed action without it being too overwhelming. there’s a good variety of events, car types, and courses, wrapped up with a wonderful wacky presentation and to the tune of a great 2000s poppunk soundtrack (midtown!). the only flaw is that the AI can be frustrating at times, especially in the later races where they feel invincible and a single crash pushes you back 7 seconds from them vs taking them out still has them on your butt