Sometimes, a game comes along that makes you think “man, this is so up my alley it’s like it was made just for me.” Denshattack is one of those games. It’s the kind of joint we used to get all the time in the PS2 era and is now only found in the indie space. Video games are serious business, you know, and we don’t have time for nonsense. Denshattack is definitely nonsense, but I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Here’s the pitch: What if Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater did the Dragon Ball fusion dance with Jet Set Radio, but instead of skating you pilot a train around a dystopian Japan in order to do sick tricks and take down an evil corporation? Sounds rad as hell, right? Turns out, it is. Two thoughts ran on a loop while I was playing Denshattack: “this rules,” and “this really has no business being this good. How are they doing this?”
Denshattack’s charming story is straight out of an anime, which is fitting since its stunning art style looks like one. It follows Emi, who lives in a future Japan ravaged by climate change and delivers ramen by train. Most of the country’s population (or at least those that can afford it) now lives in protective domed cities built by a shady megacorp (is there any other kind?) called Miraido, which also happens to operate the high speed VACTRAIN between the domes. We love a monopoly, and those who don’t live in the cities have a harder life, but at least they’re not under Miraido’s thumb. Emi’s one of them, and it’s not long before she meets a fellow misfit named Fernando and gets swept up into the world of Denshattack: an underground sport of sorts where the most skilled train jockeys in Japan compete against each other by doing tricks and races. Soon, she’s on a quest to be the best Denshattacker there ever was, and Fernando, who runs a Denshattack zine covering the scene, is tagging along for the ride.
Emi is basically Goku: an incredibly positive and generally likeable natural talent who seeks constant self-improvement. Inevitably, her quest to be the best leads her into contact with the various gangs scattered across Japan, as well as their leaders. After she’s earned the right to face the leader of a gang, Emi inevitably defeats them and, impressed by her skill, they join up with her. You’ve seen these characters before: the bubbly, supportive rich girl obsessed with fashion; the rival who joins because she wants to be a part of what happens next, not because she respects you or anything; the older rockabilly engineers who come out of semi-retirement because they finally meet someone worthy of their creations,and so on. None of this is new, but that’s not always a bad thing. Denshattack is playing the hits, but they sound good, and its punk rock mentality is infectious.
Really, the whole point of the plot is just to get you inside a train that can do ollies and kickflips. Denshattack’s Japan is broken down into tracks you ride, and your train is more than up to the task. You can jump, flip to new tracks, boost off ramps for big air, and a ton more. All the while, you should be doing tricks, which Denshattack smartly maps to the right analog stick. Flicking it to the left will get you an ollie, but if you want something like a 540 heelflip, you’ll have to do a half circle. More complex tricks require more complex motions, and if you want the really sick stuff (and there are a lot of tricks to learn) you’ll basically have to do fighting game inputs.
Chaining tricks together is Denshattack’s bread and butter, but the goal is not to use the same tricks too many times in a row, or they’ll grow stale. Style is everything, and racking up big scores means learning lots of tricks. It will take you a while to learn everything well enough to be able to pull off specific tricks on the fly, but Denshattack comes equipped with the excellently named and super helpful Tricktionary that you can access at any time if you need to remember how to do something. When I first started, I wasn’t hitting the cool stuff. Now I’m doing Impossible Cancels like they’re old hat. There’s a ton of depth to this trick system, and it’s a lot of fun to add new options to your repertoire as you play.
The real secret sauce on Denshattack’s burger, though, are the levels themselves. The roughly 10- to 15-hour campaign takes you all over Japan, and you’ll see some absolutely wild stuff. You’ll trick over some stone heads, ride a Ferris Wheel through an abandoned city, and knock down Miraido’s cell towers as you go. And those are the tame parts. I’ve ridden rails through a volcano, been eaten by a shark, and tricked through kabuki plays. The best part of Denshattack is how much variety there is. Some courses you just roll through. Others have you race against other characters (who you can often knock off the track), post a high score, or complete objectives scattered across the various splits that track takes. One had me clear a bridge, restore a Miraido-censored work of “rebellious” art, and deliver soba. I could control what part of the track I went to, and it was up to me to complete the objectives once I got there.
Every level has multiple paths depending on what routes you take, which can lead to new exits. If you’ve got style, you can chain together tricks to fill your energy bar, which unlocks the Yaoyorozuo, or 8 Million Roads, alternate, high-flying, elaborate rainbow-colored tracks that lead to new areas. Imagine if you could make Rainbow Road part of every other track in Mario Kart, and you’ve kinda got the idea.
It’s a lot, and the joy of Denshattack is combining everything – drifting, jumping, pulling off tricks, grinding on rails, wall riding, looping through tunnels, hitting manuals, honking your horn to interact with parts of the environment, and a lot more – without messing up or going off track. It’s not always easy to do, but the checkpoints are generous and your friends are always there to give you words of encouragement if you make a mistake. You’ll fail a lot, but it will never end your run, just cost you time. What’s truly impressive is that Denshattack keeps upping the ante throughout. You’ll think you’ve seen everything, and then it will be like, “by the way, you can attach your train to monorail tracks now,” or “hey, wanna ride these air currents?” It’s rad. That all of these levels are set to some of the slickest, catchiest tunes I’ve heard in a hot second certainly doesn’t hurt, either.
Individual missions are usually short, but there’s a ton of room for replayability and mastery here, and lots of extra stuff to collect – like parts you can use to unlock new trains or spray paint cans and stickers to doll them up to suit your style. My favorites are the picture opportunities you can nail for Fernando, which you then place into an issue of his zine. The zines themselves are surprisingly detailed, offering background on a region, its characters, their trains, the story so far, and even Emi’s ramen reviews. It’s awesome.
Every level also has dares, optional objectives that may challenge you to complete it without crashing, derail a certain number of rivals, find an optional exit, perform specific tricks at a specific time, and so on. These are also rad, and I always wanted to go back and see what I had missed. Additionally, you’re scored on both time and tricks, so if score-chasing’s your bag (and it is mine), that’s there for you, too. I was mostly charting bronze and silver medals on my first runs, but I am excited to go back and try for better times and higher scores.
Between missions, you can spend the collectibles you acquire to get new trains, each with unique advantages and disadvantages – I really liked one that upped my trick speed at the cost of my manual distance and another that amped up my energy bar fill rate in exchange for reducing my trick score, which overall meant I could get to the 8 Million Roads faster. This stuff rules. Certain levels incentivize you to use specific trains if you’re score chasing, but the choice is always yours, and the customization provides more reasons to replay older levels and get any collectibles you missed.
Denshattack’s real highlights, though, are the boss fights that come at the end of each area. You wanna square off with a group of trains that can combine, Megazord-style? You got it. What about a brawl against a train that doubles as a sand snake you can grind on? It’s there. Or is a moving castle sporting an enormous cannon more your speed? Good news, kid. Denshattack is absolutely at its most anime (complimentary) during these sequences, but each one feels different and they still work seamlessly with what you’ve learned in the regular stages. Boss fights in games like this often end up as disappointments, but Denshattack’s are as smooth as a high-speed train hitting big air and pulling off sick tricks before landing perfectly on another track. You don’t expect to see it, but you do love to see it.
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