The game also offers an online mode, in which you can test your ped-crunching skills against actual humans, who are smarter and deadlier than any CPU opponent. Here you are privy to all game modes, save Classic Carma, with the only major change being that resetting your vehicle takes three seconds instead of happening instantly. I didn’t get as many hours into the online portion as I wanted, mainly because I rarely found a game with people to play against.

So, with poor performance, stiff controls, and relatively dull game modes, I suppose the only thing Carmageddon: Reincarnation has left to offer is its dazzling sense of humor. Perhaps I have simply grown up, but I no longer chuckle at splattering dumb pedestrians against the hood of a digital car, with heads and viscera flying in all directions. I remember playing the original Carmageddon in my youth, giggling at a flying severed arm or three as I tore down a street. It’s all the same in Reincarnation, and I can’t get over how tame it feels. It’s not just that other games do violence better; this is the game’s humor, and it just doesn’t cause a reaction. During your travels, you will also spot a phallic-shaped building in the distance or hear frightened people screaming on a runaway elevated train as it tears around a city. There are rare chuckles, and I am not completely humorless, so hearing my car squeezing out a mine to the tune of a gurgling fart as it pummels disco-dancing bovines did provide a short laugh. But there isn’t much beyond that. After playing for a few hours, the humor was all but spent, as was much of the game.

Carmageddon: Reincarnation has the same flavor as the Carmageddon of yore, but not much attempt has been made at a revolution. It’s the same as it always was, and that isn’t exactly a point in its favor. Mowing down hundreds of the same meandering pedestrians demonstrating the same lousy animations is no longer as fun. Some games today, such as anything from Saints Row, do a much better job at car combat, racing, and killing heaps of pedestrians. Instead, the only thing Reincarnation actually achieves is standing as a reminder of how far gaming has come. The vehicular manslaughter of thousands of listless fodder swiftly falls into tedium after only a handful of hours, long before reaching the end of the game’s surprisingly lengthy 16-chapter campaign. The rose-tinted glasses are off; I was glad to have experienced Carmageddon all those years ago, but that’s where it should have remained.