Examination of Star Wars Galactic Racer: A Comprehensive Exploration of Podracing and Its Obstacles

I felt a surge of enthusiasm when I learned about Star Wars Galactic Racer, as it seemed to merge the franchise’s distant-universe steampunk aesthetics that I find intriguing with solid arcade racing principles, thanks to Fuse Games, a nascent British studio featuring Criterion veterans.

This team is renowned for igniting Need for Speed’s revival in the early 2010s and, more critically, for Burnout. In their prime, both titles showcased a masterclass in encapsulating the chaos of racing; that paradoxical sensation where you’re at the brink of losing control, yet brimming with confidence that you can secure the victory. Burnout had the ability to make you feel like a champion; Star Wars Galactic Racer manages that as well.

However, Galactic Racer realizes this within the Star Wars domain, which resonates more significantly with its players. Plus, it features an authentic story mode enriched with characters and a meticulously designed progression system that, although not flawless, imbues every race and interaction with meaning. You might arrive at Galactic Racer craving the sheer arcade excitement, but the sense of purpose will keep you returning for more.

The essence of the single-player experience revolves around a galactic tour, stopping at seven planets, each hosting several circuit and point-to-point races. Unlike most racing games that naturally guide you through events, aiming to amass points and enhance your craft with your earnings, Galactic Racer operates differently.

Fuse dubs its gameplay structure “runs-based.” Experienced gamers familiar with titles beyond just racers might call it “roguelike.” No matter the terminology, it signifies that prior to commencing your quest for ultimate glory, you tailor your craft precisely how you wish using the resources at hand, allocating stat points to enhance the specific areas you feel require improvement. After that, you’re primarily on your own.

Upon arriving at a new planet during the tour, you can acquire various upgrades, and based on your performance, you might obtain valuable parts. However, your vehicle remains constant—there’s no switching to a different speeder, nor any do-overs. Moreover, if you crash too often during a race, it’s back to the starting line.

Some may dismiss the following paragraph as me revealing a skill gap, but honestly, you’re not intended to complete your first tour. You’re meant to fail—whether from crashing or finishing second in a showdown against an unnamed rival. When you return to your starting point to try again, you can spend whatever winnings you managed to accumulate on a superior vehicle than the one you began with previously. And that’s the cycle: Start, fail, and improve, until failure is no longer an option. That’s the core of roguelikes.

I admit that this aspect frustrated me greatly during my initial gameplay session. There’s that inevitable feeling of having wasted an hour of your life because you were outmatched in a race lasting three minutes. Yet, the underlying message of Galactic Racer is that nothing is truly wasted, even in losses. Over time, the disappointment of falling short transforms into a drive to return, now with greater tenacity.

Part of the notably steep learning curve lies in the fact that as a contemporary racing game, at least three controls exist that do not relate to merely steering your craft. There are two types of boost: Afterburner, which offers a modest speed increase that simply drains and recharges, and the more potent Ramjet, similar to the boost system found in Excitebike or MotorStorm, except overheating leads to an explosion. Despite its name, it doesn’t involve takedowns—notably an element Galactic Racer has cleverly borrowed from Burnout, though I wish more could be done with it.

In addition to these two aspects, which are influenced by passive perks that can alter how quickly you gather or expend boost, players also have access to abilities—like shields or temporary autopilot—activated by a specific direction on the D-pad followed by the left shoulder button. Another dedicated button is used for drifting or leaning, based on the type of craft in use. Before long, your fingers and thumbs find themselves dancing across the controller, readying and deploying all the gadgets while darting through a narrow cavern like a bullet speeding from a gun barrel. It’s mildly irritating to always be on it, but much like my experience with Screamer, there’s a satisfying mechanical aspect when executed perfectly.

The tracks contribute to this, too, with each planet showcasing distinct effects due to their extreme biomes. Conceptually, I adore this idea, though the execution varies. For instance, the water on Lantaana (one of my all-time favorite planets in the game) cools your Ramjet, preventing it from overheating too quickly, while lava predictably does the opposite. Meanwhile, the ice on Ando Prime can actually freeze and partially restrict your craft, making it slower and challenging to maneuver. I assumed that burning my Ramjet could counter this icy effect, but it doesn’t. Instead, Ando Prime features what I can only refer to as toaster oven tunnels on its paths, warming your speeder briefly before the ice once again restricts it.

Ultimately, amid the myriad buttons to engage and the brutal nature of the progression system, I anticipated the Ramjet would mitigate the ice, as I was searching for relief. I found myself longing for numerous breaks in Galactic Racer—it can occasionally feel quite unfavorable. Take the Ramjet challenges, for instance, where your task is to maintain boosting for as long as possible around a specific track. Even at a moderate Pilot difficulty level, I struggled immensely, utilizing nowhere near the required thrust to complete the challenge. While full-throttle on the open stretches of Jakku is easy, navigating the later planets with their tighter designs and sharp turns while daring to extend Ramjet usage is akin to flirting with danger.

Nonetheless, the sheer visual appeal of these environments makes them endearing. If anyone experienced DICE’s Star Wars Battlefront shooters—among the most visually stunning games of the previous generation—Galactic Racer translates that beauty into racing scenarios. Remarkable expansive spaces intertwined with constricted passages, vibrant foliage intermingled with debris from space—the track design is not only flawless but also incredibly diverse. There are moments where Galactic Racer resembles MotorStorm, with twenty competitors on vehicles of various sizes fighting for space across an expansive track. Conversely, there are instances where it embodies a more technical, intimate approach, akin to Wipeout. Most racing games shy away from demanding both elements from players.

You don’t need an exorbitant amount of processing power to showcase these environments at their peak, either. I tested the game on PlayStation 5, where it holds a stable 60 frames per second, as well as on PC with a 9850X3D CPU and RX 9070 GPU. That setup is significantly more powerful than a standard PS5, and despite being developed using Unreal Engine 5—which can be demanding for even average-looking titles—Galactic Racer consistently hovered around the high 70 fps range at a blend of High and Epic settings at 1440p resolution on my device.

I have no critiques regarding the game’s visual presentation—it looks absolutely magnificent, and Fuse’s exceptional art direction is realized through awe-inspiring motion blur and global illumination that imparts a cinematic feel to the racing experience. The only awkward element is the manner in which the protagonist walks during the pre-race camp scenes, but I suspect Fuse can patch that.

One regret I have with this review is not having time to explore Galactic Racer’s multiplayer, which mirrors the single-player campaign: aiming for the best run through the tour against a competitive field. Nevertheless, the loop of that solo gameplay has made me not only curious but genuinely excited to try it out.

Galactic Racer may sometimes feel overly constraining, perhaps too chaotic for its own benefit. Yet, its undeniable beauty, mastery of core arcade racing elements, and the commitment to its campaign mode are too captivating to let frustration linger for long. In fact, it might inspire me to seek out another Star Wars film without anyone needing to coax me into a cinema.

Secret Mode supplied The Drive with software prior to its release for the sole purpose of crafting this review.

Star Wars Galactic Racer Specs

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