With almost comically jarring race-intro phrases like the above gem delivered by your co-driver, new (ugh) franchises are born. As the 41-year-old titular Scot’s distinguished career finally draws to a close, Codemasters must begin its search for a new lynchpin to replace the soon-departing; a task that stretches far further than draping the star-spangled banner over everything and putting some cheeky innuendo in its title.

Luckily, Codemasters is as aware of this as the rest of us and, in the absence of some up-and-coming wunderkind to photograph, we’re instead offered a fresh philosophy, one that puts DIRT in closer competition with production car racers where keeping the car the right way up is victory enough: variety. Although it’s technically possible to enter complete rallies spanning a handful of countries, the new main event is a heavily simplified pyramid of championships, each frequently limited to a single race, short enough to savour the strawberry fondant of big-rig rallying without having to suffer too much pain when the coffee cream that is buggy racing comes along. Or, indeed, engage in too much vehicle repair at all, if you’re not the sort to fiddle over individual nuts and bolts.

So, what kind of pick-and-mix does your money buy, exactly? Well, alongside the rallying bread and butter (that’s front, rear and four-wheel drive vehicles to us mere mortals) there’s a handful of the slightly bizarre. Most sane among that list is a range of light and heavy trucks most commonly associated with the Dakar Rally (formerly the Paris Dakar Rally), raced across the American wilderness. Next on the scale of stupidity come buggies, armed against their tight, undulating courses with a practically non-existent turning circle and the ability to jump from what feels like a standing start (and land vertically). Then come classics from the sport’s history, whose charm makes up for their distinct lack of horsepower (well, until the mud starts to spread a little ugliness around, that is). Most wonderfully insane of all, however, come modified big rigs, lacking their loads (sadly) but packing incredible power for a frantic mountain ascent or two. All in all, it’s pretty easy to see where the comparison with Codemasters’ last TOCA Race Driver comes in, though on a smaller, 46- vehicle scale. Like the 2006 Xbox outing though, DIRT’s structure tends to throw up some disappointing questions to temper the many outand- out thrills. After completing any career mode event, the vehicles and tracks contained within (and, indeed, the mini-championship as a complete entity) become unlocked, allowing the chance to revisit familiar surrounds at your leisure, to challenge either the clock or a few friends. Here, the promised variety becomes a false smorgasbord topped with many hard cheeses, denying players the opportunity to try out some of the stranger bedfellows. Why, for instance, are we only allowed to take our haulage trucks out for a spin on Hill Climb tracks? Wouldn’t forcing them to obey the unforgiving chicanes of Rally Cross circuits result in any number of thrills and spills? This and many other impractical yet potentially very entertaining possibilities remain unexplored, something a game so clearly trying to distance itself from cold simulation can scarcely afford to ignore. Of course, carefully stipulating which vehicles can be used where in this fashion has a knock-on effect on how much fun can be had on the multiplayer stage.

It’s a good job, then, that directing your lump of metal and carbon fibre between the trees is such a satisfying pursuit, and wonderfully distinct with it. A case could be made that the range of dedicated modern vehicles make the track surface seem a little too fixed; however, the opportunity for punishment to be levied on a cornerby- corner basis (rather than a single mistake costing you track position for the next half a dozen turns) is a welcome one. Moving between weight divisions provides ample chance for you to show off some versatility too, with separate vehicle classes sporting wildly different handling characteristics. Venture but an inch from the ground while turning in any of the buggy classes and you’d better hope the medical professionals on call are well trained. Even the pedestrian pace of big-rig rallying is kept genuinely interesting, as 70 miles per hour becomes 120 in the blink of an eye (for all the effect your momentum has on handling), and adverse camber becomes only an indistinguishable yelp of pain. Followed by a crash, naturally. Taking one of the desertmodified trucks over a hump in the road, especially when surrounded by traffic, too, is a feeling that can only be adequately described by an unpleasant smell. In short, though, there are question marks over realism and DIRT’s handling couldn’t better test your ability to adapt.

Something similar might be said of the varied in-game navigation systems, unfortunately, which seem to have been a victim of rather poor planning. During regular rally events, the standard mechanic of co-driver voice commands is used, backed up by a map at the screen’s top centre, detailing the road’s movements up ahead. Most of the time, relying upon your partner’s spoken advice will see you through the twistier sectors, but for some reason he suffers from a fit of idiocy at speed, giving his directions just that split-second too late to do anything but slam your brakes on, come to a complete stop, then actually look where you were in fact meant to be travelling. That isn’t what rallying’s about, man. Sceptical sorts might argue that the map should instead be used, but generally speaking there’s already quite enough occupying your mind during intense play without having to look in completely the wrong direction every few seconds. Besides, rather essential knowledge, such as the position of chicanes, boulders and jutting tunnel entrances, doesn’t even appear. Quite frankly, hearing “caution, left entry CRASH” once is enough! Moving on, Hill Climb and most conventional race modes don’t feature a co-driver. On the former mode this is a truly bizarre decision, on the latter, Codemasters may have been forced into it; whatever the cause, it makes having to actually drive the courses a rather stop/start affair.

Graphically, DIRT is awash with fancy filters and flashy special effects, which combine to make the result look greater than the sum of its parts. Assuming control from behind the wheel, you’ll see your wing mirrors assume a gradual porthole appearance based upon how far you’ve travelled, an effect achieved by simply increasing the intensity of a template image, rather than particles being thrown around. On more soluble circuits, your car’s panelling will become plastered in relatively convincing fashion, though Sega’s trump card of ruts left in the turf remains unparalleled. In fact, we’re struggling to recall any occasion a preexisting rut in the turf caused us any navigational problems, which probably says more about how Codemasters is aiming at casual racing fans rather than skilled rally enthusiasts more effectively than any of our metaphors could.

Like World Records in athletics, the advancements made in driving simulations these days often prove small, but absolutely crucial. Despite its faults, DIRT is still capable of pushing the bar for those to come still higher in certain areas. Such a breakthrough moment comes the first time you career off course, or cut just too much of a corner, when videogame convention will cause you to relax once you don’t see a rather hefty tree in your path, but a mere tuft of greenery. Moments later, though the pesky plant life in question has still cracked and fallen to the ground, your car now faces the direction you came from following a violent 180-degree turn. This is quite possibly the meanest shrubbery in the history of gaming (apart from Piranha Plants, of course), and an addition we’d be genuinely unhappy not to see elsewhere, from now on. Plus points have also been awarded for being one of the only gamers where you can enter your unaltered, full name to follow you throughout your career without being presented with opponents called simply ‘Menacer’ or ‘The King’, or something. On the other hand, your unseen menu announcer does introduce the vehicle showroom by saying “man, I love the garage”. We reckon that’s probably a 50/50, then.

Though you’ll continue playing for that age-old driving drug – collecting shiny new vehicles – DIRT’s relatively short length and notable omissions will hit home eventually (careering through the ice forests of Finland or Sweden seems a non-vital rally experience, for example). We’re certain that we’d have enjoyed DIRT far less had it not come at the end of the worst videogame racing drought since 1863, because as much as it may like to distinguish itself, unfortunately a distinct step towards the casual has been taken here. The technical, stat-obsessed real-world sport is hardly in evidence, leaving rally fans almost without a game to cling to and everyone else with far more superior alternatives.

Dave Shaw