I'm in the process of reviewing Riders Republic, Ubisoft's new extreme sports game. So far I'm having a great time snowboarding, mountain biking, and skiing around its massive, vibrant open world. I haven't played enough to decide whether I love it or not yet—my review will cover that when it's published next week—but there is one part of the game that I already deeply, deeply hate: the dialogue. The tone of the game is extremely Ubisoft, designed to make you feel like you're the best person who ever lived. Complete a race, even if your performance is completely average, and the characters teaching you the ropes will hop around excitedly, raining down fist-bumps, telling you how awesome you are.
I get what they're going for. Ubisoft wants the game to be cheery and approachable. It wants you to feel welcome and, more importantly, keep playing—which is why it treats even the most minor victory like it's the most incredible, momentous thing that's ever happened. Which is fair enough. That's the vibe it wanted the game to have, and maybe some people will dig it. But for me, it's absolutely exhausting. Early in the game you meet two mentor-type characters, Suki and Brett, who are so relentlessly upbeat it's actually quite sickening. This excitable pair are your introduction to the loud, brash world of Riders Republic, and both instantly made me question whether I wanted to keep playing. If they were at a party, I'd quietly leave.
"Mix it up and lay it down," says Brett, a fedora-wearing food truck proprietor and founder of the extreme sports event the game is based around. "It's gonna be extreeeeeme. Peace!" Suki, meanwhile, describes a group of rival riders as "a bucknutty bunch" and suggests I "twangle in their madness." Later, Brett orders me to "get stuck in and put some mustard on that thing" and "give it some beans." Human beings don't speak like this. Not even people who do extreme sports for a living. I don't mind a game with a positive, cheerful tone, but here it's really grating. It's like some trying to sound cool and laid back, rather than letting it happen naturally, to the point where it's actually kinda distracting.
I'm enjoying the game itself—quite a lot actually. As a fan of the SSX games, which EA pointlessly abandoned, the snowboarding events are filling in for its absence nicely. The super fast loading times (at least on PS5, I can't speak for other platforms) make zipping around the gargantuan map a breeze. There's a nice mode called Zen Mode that opens up the whole world and unlocks every sport, letting you focus on riding rather than bothering with missions, progression, and so on. The music is pretty tasteful too, with tracks from Boards of Canada and Aphex Twin. There's a lot to love here, but then someone opens their mouth and spoils it. It's not enough to make me stop playing, but it does taint the experience.
There's a pretty garish, intrusive storefront in Riders Republic where you can spend real money on 'Republic Coins' to unlock premium costumes and other cosmetics. For a game that already costs $60, this feels pretty cheap and cynical. But if I was ever flipping through the pages of that store and I saw a $5 download that made every single character in the game shut the hell up, I'd be sorely tempted to buy it. Riders Republic is clearly a decent game, and already much better than Steep and The Crew 2, Ubisoft's other big sporting open-world games. I just wish there wasn't so much dialogue, and that it didn't fill me with such deep pain every time I hear it. I never want to be asked to "give it some beans" ever again.
