Tony Hawk: Ride

Preview - All aboard

It's easy to approach Tony Hawk: Ride with a touch of cynicism. It wants you to buy yet another plastic peripheral, for a start, which means a steep (100 GBP) initial cost for a series that's seen better days. But I found it hard not to be won over by lead designer Patrick's Dwyer's overwhelming enthusiasm for the game and, to give developer Robomodo their dues, they've reinvigorated a stale licence before: they're mostly formed of the same studio that managed to transform the dull Knockout Kings series into the phenomenal Fight Night franchise.

"Have you skated before?" Patrick asks me. I tell the truth: for a couple of weeks about fifteen years ago before giving up after not being immediately fantastic. I did, however, play a lot of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 back at the turn of the millennium, so I think it's safe to say I have a skewed view of skateboarding - one where it's possible to pull a tricked-out 720 with little effort. To emphasise the difference between then and now, Patrick demonstrates a 360 spin with the new board peripheral, shifting his centre of gravity and pivoting himself around in a single smooth, graceful motion. My pathetic attempt to replicate the trick ended in me falling off.

The board is definitely the star of the show. It's sturdy, attractive and responsive, exhibiting no signs of wear and tear after being rigorously tested underneath my not inconsiderable weight for a couple of hours. And it doesn't lie completely flat on the ground, so it provides an enjoyable kinetic response when you shift your weight around.

There were a few teething problems, however. The inexperienced games journalists, with me leading the pack, tended to simply repeat failed tricks mid-jump, as if hoping the game would somehow rewind five seconds and fix itself, which often contorted poor on-screen Tony Hawk into baffling positions before thumping back to ground head first. As impressive a bit of kit it is, it's clearly not a perfect imitation: the motionless controller obviously lacks the velocity of a real skateboard. But Guitar Hero gets by just fine despite being nothing like playing a proper guitar, and let's not forget that actual skateboarding means going outside, wearing a helmet and probably scraping your knees.

Much like its plastic big brother, Ride's success comes from making the player forget they probably have absolutely no skill at the craft, with the results on the screen always being far more impressive than the comparatively feeble physical inputs. A 50-50 grind down a twisty railing is as simple as performing an ollie - quickly raising and dropping the front of the board - and keeping yourself steady. Other blatantly complicated tricks, like grabbing the board (by moving your hands near one of the four infrared sensors), kicking tricks out and performing 180 degree turns is initially daunting, but feels achievable after a couple off hours with the game. It's a cleverly orchestrated illusion, and there are plenty of instructional videos on the disc to help everyone along.

Ride's stylised graphics learn towards the cartoony. It differentiates itself from the grungy palette of newish-kid-on-the-block Skate with chunky textures, unrealistic scenarios - grinding over giant, hissing pipes that end in a screen-filling eruption of steam when you jump off at the end, for instance - and immolating the player with celebratory fire when they fill their Style meter. The two levels I saw - Robomodo's rendition of New York's Central Park and an LA river, were charming, vibrant and pleasantly sunny - just the kind of thing you want to see from a game being released in miserable December.

I spent most of my time with Speed Run mode on the LA River stage. It's a simple premise of skimming through the course and collecting as many time-deducting collectables as you can. The desirable glowing-green icons are usually positioned in places that require a jump, with heftier deductions (five seconds as opposed to one, for instance) requiring you to make leaps off grinds and generally trickier stuff. Go in a straight, un-fancy line and you'll be bumping into red-coloured collectables that add time to the clock; the game's way of telling the player they're doing it all wrong.

Speed Run feels like a natural mode for beginners to ease themselves into understanding the terrifying-looking peripheral. The focus is firmly placed on haste, which means basic tricks are enough to turn in a good score. It's compelling, partially because of the novelty of the board but also because of the variety of the course. There are also enough potential routes to keep score-hunters occupied for hours, pragmatically deconstructing each area to calculate the smoothest, speediest route.