an impossibly-solid foundation for what i can only hope is an absolutely stunning follow-up down the road. Rollerdrome's gameplay is its strongest asset by a landslide, and even that's underselling it. fluid, fast, and easy to learn with a skill ceiling that feels infinite, its mechanics are as simple, straightforward, and easy-to-pick-up as possible. everyone's already called this Tony Hawk's Pro Shooter, but i'd more closely compare it to the fluidity of Skate 3 combined with the visceral excitement of Doom 2016. it's a game built around getting you into a "flow state", and then doing anything it can to rattle you out of it.

despite all this praise, anything that isn't the gameplay feels woefully half-baked. the music and stages are interesting, but ultimately repetitive and blend together (not helped by the game only having eleven unique stages, all of which are variations on four basic concepts). the worldbuilding also feels somewhat flat, with the narrative segments before each leg of the tournament feeling tacked-on and ultimately hollow, constantly hinting at a wider, more interesting universe we never see enough of. the second campaign (a New Game Plus mode titled "Out For Blood"), stage challenges, and leaderboards all offer a decent amount of replayability, but most of your time with Rollerdrome will be spent practicing combos and tricks until you get them right. absolutely no unlockables is a let-down, too-- a game like this would benefit greatly from something as simple as unlocking a new helmet or jumpsuit color each time you complete every challenge on a stage.

ultimately, Rollerdrome feels like a lukewarm first entry that'll immediately be overshadowed and rendered redundant by a follow-up that improves upon it tenfold; a Portal or Left 4 Dead waiting patiently to be rendered nothing more than a pack-in bonus for its leaner, meaner younger sibling. but until Rollerdrome 2 comes out, this game is absolutely worth the dozen-or-so hours it'll take you.