NOBODY'S FAVORITE TOYS ARE BACK
I could easily wrap up this review in just a few paragraphs, because this is one of those conventional racers that seems terrified of upsetting people by trying anything new. Table Top Racing: World Tour, developed by Playrise Digital, is an arcade combat racer that is undeniably competent on a technical level. It delivers a flawless sense of speed, impressive polish, and a consistently high framerate on the PlayStation 4. Taken together, this makes it a solid pick for die-hard racing enthusiasts. For everyone else, however, the absence of a compelling hook quickly causes the experience to stagnate.
There is barely any sense of progression to speak of. Tracks are reused throughout the campaign, with only minor variations in win conditions. The much-touted “toy car” angle adds little of value, and instead raises an obvious question: what is the point of driving miniature cars when they look and behave almost exactly like real ones? Sure, real cars do not fire rockets or drop bombs, but then again, neither do toys. A teacup placed behind a corner on the restaurant track, or a dust filter sitting on a workbench, hardly qualifies as inspired world-building. Bold move, folks.
A classic toy racer like Micro Machines at least committed fully to its premise. It featured cartoon characters with distinct personalities and used a top-down perspective that mirrored how children actually play with toy cars. One could argue that Table Top Racing’s third-person camera is meant to reflect a child’s imagination, as the cars zip across tabletops and desks, but the restrained, realistic visual style clashes awkwardly with that fantasy.
The game follows a rigid, mobile-game-inspired progression structure consisting of three divisions—cult classics, street cars, and supercars—ordered from easiest to hardest. Each division contains two cups, and each cup features roughly a dozen tracks. To advance, you must earn at least one of three stars per event. Completing the entire campaign unlocks more demanding challenge modes, while eight-player online races are available for those craving additional mileage on the treadmill.
The first two divisions pose little challenge once you acquire the best car and fully upgrade its stats. The only events that gave me consistent trouble were the drifting courses introduced midway through the second cup. These hit-or-miss challenges demand sustained, high-speed slides to rack up points, and they feel oddly out of place compared to the otherwise enjoyable modes where raw speed and positioning take precedence.
My favorite events are the standard combat races—the so-called heart and soul of Table Top Racing—where weapon pickups can dramatically shift the balance of a race. A genuine sense of competition emerges here, particularly in the final races of each cup, where holding on to a powerful weapon for the last stretch can prove decisive. One standout variant is the “last man standing” mode, in which the last car to cross the finish line each lap is eliminated. It is well executed, but hardly novel—and I say this as someone who has not played an excessive number of racing games.
Other modes include pure racing challenges with no weapons, one-on-one car chases, and a couple of time trial variants. All of them are serviceable, yet they invite constant restarts after even minor mistakes, since a single error can be enough to knock you out of contention. Success in these modes often hinges on maxing out your car’s upgrades, which in turn encourages grinding by replaying races you have already conquered.
I cannot deny that Table Top Racing: World Tour offers a robust and technically sound racing experience. Unfortunately, it is also profoundly uninspiring. Before many play sessions, I found myself scrolling through my game library for minutes on end, everything else looking more appealing. Eventually, I would sigh and load up the game for a few more races. As a result, I ended up playing it for weeks. Ironically, it was only near the end—when the difficulty finally spiked—that I felt a flicker of genuine engagement.
So how will I remember this game? Will I remember it at all? I imagine revisiting these reviews ten years from now and wondering who on earth played this and bothered to write about it. It is essentially Mario Kart stripped of its personality and imagination, transplanted into realistic environments like desks, workbenches, and picnic tables. For better or worse, there is no rubber-banding mechanic here: you are free to dominate a track or fail miserably without the hand of fate intervening.
Does that make it sound more or less fun? I suppose that is for the suckers themselves to decide. This particular sucker, at least, knows he has sucked enough.
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