What Does It Take to Appreciate Turbo Kid (2024)?

This is a feature excerpt from Unwinnable Monthly #187. If you like what you see, grab the magazine for less than ten dollars, or subscribe and get all future magazines for half price.

———

You’re a rocker, you’re a roller, and you’re out of control in the heat of an apocalypse – assuming that listening to synthwave on a BMX in a lukewarm-kinda heated apocalypse counts, that is. “Mad” Max Rockatansky probably doesn’t consider Turbo Kid his beloved prodigal son, but that’s not to say that we can’t consider him a pleasant companion piece to his lawless other half.

George Miller’s 1979 Mad Max and its sequels (mostly) follow a lost, lone wolf with no ambition and, if there were any roses left, it’s obvious that he’d never stop and smell them. This franchise, alongside a film prequel, and many other icons from videogames, film and TV, all sit in the rearview of Outerminds Inc.’s Turbo Kid from last year. Our protagonist, aptly named Turbo Kid or simply “the Kid,” is far kinder than Mad Max. He indulges the community, smells the roses and expresses appreciation to those in his rearview mirror.

There is a lot of art that has made Outerminds Inc.’s 2024 videogame sequel to the cult 2015 film possible, begging the question: what does it take to appreciate Turbo Kid?

To spoil the film almost in its entirety – not that it’s something you’d watch for the plot – the Kid’s journey finishes by bringing him to the point wherein he is finally able to achieve his dream and explore beyond his small pocket of the dystopian Wasteland after sacrificing his romantic interest and finding the super-powered suit of the prior Turbo Kid. The film’s reputation comes from the high-stakes and absurd action, satire of classic pre-2000s film and TV, and low-budget set and locale. Outerminds Inc.’s punt carries (nearly) all these strengths into the cross-medium sequel. With the playable character having the convenient capabilities of Samus Aran or Mega Man, the game picks up either from the film’s ending or a similar alternative one where the Kid was sacrificed and his romantic interest – peculiarly named “Apple” – survived. The game takes itself far more seriously than the film, and I’d struggle to muster or validate the suggestion that jumping into this universe via the interactive medium first is a bad idea.

Throughout my time playing Turbo Kid, I was tasked with destroying the land’s ignoble theocracy, which posed a barrier to my dreams of vagabonding and to the well-being of local denizens. In the early days of exploring Outerminds Inc.’s take on the Wasteland, I’d gotten used to the processes of experiencing dialogue or unearthing collectibles. This culminated in me waggishly pointing at the screen in excitement because I read something along the lines of “I say it, therefore I am,” “I choose you,” or “I took an arrow to the knee” – all of which are real quotes, mind you. After a few weeks (in-game time, obviously) of perusing the Wasteland, I’d procured a reverence for the game’s mechanical spins on the film’s satirical elements. Stravaiging with a machete and blaster to produce a medley of guts and bone was no longer just a humorous nod to Mega Man, Kamen Rider or Metroid but a tactile experience that intuitively incentivized personal improvement and exploration. Cycling on a red trick BMX was no longer just a subversion of Max’s Interceptor but a riff on the Trials series to create more thrilling traversal options.

It was after killing a reclusive boss by the name of the “Oozinater” in the sewers – who had the not-so-malevolent intentions of watching sitcom re-runs on the TV all day – that I thought: damn, Eric the One-Armed Arm-Wrestler sure lied hard out of his ass about there not being much to see in the rest of the Wastelands. Eric, exclusive to the film, imposes that there is little beyond his corner of the world. Nine years later (in real life, this time), I grasped the handlebars of the Kid’s BMX bike to prove him wrong. The small pocket of the Wasteland occupied by the prior film amounts to little more than a quarry or a few car parks – which may have actually been the case given the film’s small scale – when viewed against this massive world in the spirit of Metroid or Castlevania. It seemed that Eric’s world, lightly referencing a few franchises and predominantly eliciting a satire of Mad Max, had yet to grow into its full potential.

———

Jay Weaver is a freelance writer looking to enter full-time games journalism shortly. They are a graduate of Biological Sciences at Exeter, and their tastes encompass anything that elicits feeling or thinking, which could come from anywhere. They strongly believe that Rain World, Goodnight Punpun, One Piece (the manga), Rango and Mob Psycho 100(the anime) are the crowns of all art and humanity’s best achievements. Constantly looking for new opportunities to write, the products of which can all be found on Linktree.