This game is about going fast, broken machines, and the sheer pleasure of hitting a button that sends a car sliding sideways. It is a tribute to Burnout, the racing game that taught players to drive with a deep sense of spite. The studio behind it carries a great deal of Criterion’s DNA within it, and that is evident throughout every part of this roguelite racer.
The setting sits between Episode 6 and Episode 7, populated with droids, desert planets, and fish-headed aliens spread throughout its courses. What truly sets it apart is the act of driving itself. Galactic Racer skims along the ground on a hazy antigrav cushion, similar to the landspeeders and podracers found within its own fictional universe. It’s clear the developer has taken careful note of the Burnout series, and the parallels run deep.
From Burnout to Galactic Racer
A couple of years back, the author got to ask Alex Ward, the co-founder of Criterion Games, what the driving model for the Burnout series really was. The query was respectful yet puzzled: was it a driving model, a handling model, or a physics model? Ward replied with a quip. The cars, as they appeared in the very early games, didn’t actually have wheels.
The story serves as an introduction to Galactic Racer, a game that finds its sense of realism not through wheels, but through a strong, physical sense of weight that keeps you anchored to the track. That feeling comes from placing the center of gravity right at the middle of your speeding vehicle. Should you manage to strike another racer and send them flying off the road, the camera pulls back to watch the tumbling wreckage, then races forward again to keep pace with you — much as it did in Burnout 3, where the same effect was first used.
During the first race, the writer’s chair took a sudden jolt when they instinctively pressed a specific face button to activate boost, a reaction born of habit alone. The same boost. The same sensation. The distant view expanded and rippled. They had arrived where they belonged.
The Junky Technology of Star Wars
Galactic Racer isn’t a Jedi game. It’s the Star Wars of the Millennium Falcon, a machine that must be thumped just so before its engines start, a thing of switches and buttons that shudders dangerously when it drops out of hyperspace. It’s the Star Wars of landcraft that’s fast as heck but rusty, looking like the back panel of a refrigerator. It’s the Star Wars of malfunctioning droids that shower sparks and squeal, always ready to throw off loose parts.
The whole game carries a feeling of brilliant, worn-out, nearly ruined technology. Every part of it echoes that sense, from the sound of a boost switch thumping and shuddering to the suggestion that mechanical things are moving about and realigning themselves in the dark spaces of your rattling craft. That sound alone is magic.
Afterburner and Ramjet
Galactic Racer gives players two boosts instead of just one. The primary one is named Afterburner, which operates much like Burnout’s boost system. Pressing and holding a button sends the vehicle at a tremendous pace until the boost gauge runs dry. However, unlike Burnout, the meter typically refills by itself after that. That makes it a steady choice, even though it might be too powerful for most other games.
The second stage of acceleration is called the Ramjet. It moves much more quickly, and players must activate it by pressing a thumbstick. That changeover is where the game makes its technology feel both brilliant and terrible at once. There is a heavy bump and a shaking of the vehicle when you switch over, and the energy meter enters a part of its display known as redlining. A warning noise begins, identical to the alarm the writer frequently hears in nightmares where they are flying a 747 without knowing what any of the controls are for. Let it run too long, and the vehicle explodes.
The old Burnout question of whether to boost or not boost has given way to a new one: whether to boost, or to boost in a way that could end your life. That tension runs through the whole experience of guiding these wonderfully noisy, heavy machines at great velocity.
The Roguelite Campaign
The campaign is a Roguelite, which is the game’s main conceit. Galactic Racer’s approach to the tech is central to how it plays, and the two boost systems add a layer of strategy to the racing.
This return to Burnout-land was so enjoyable that the writer didn’t notice the passage of time for an entire hour. It wasn’t until they realized what game they were actually playing that they truly dug in.
What We Make of It
Both boost systems, Afterburner and Ramjet, honor the series’ history of fast, broken machinery. The noise and vibration produced when toggling between them make the change feel real.
The game succeeds because it dedicates itself entirely to its central concept. It does not attempt to be a Jedis-and-wookies game. Instead, it becomes a Millennium Falcon game, complete with all the switches, buttons, and sparks that come with it. The crash cam, the boost bar, and the redlining danger all keep that spirit alive throughout.
The writer’s guidance is plain: grind your teeth until they crumble into dust. This is no tame race for genteel daytime drivers. It demands you drive with vicious spite, and it backs up that demand with every crash cam and every blast.
Key Facts Box
- Developer: Fuse Games, with Criterion DNA
- Setting: Between Episode 6 and Episode 7
- Boost types: Afterburner and Ramjet
- Main conceit: Roguelite campaign
- Sound design: Thump and shudder on boost switch
- Review verdict: Delight
Galactic Racer celebrates velocity, malfunctioning machines, and the sheer pleasure of hitting a button that sends a vehicle sliding sideways. The game functions as an ode to Burnout, the racing title that trained players to handle a vehicle with a deeply mean-spirited attitude.
See the video the story is built around at Eurogamer.
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