IGN Germany 70/100: FH5-Japan
tldr; It's a new forza horizon 5 map for €70
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At the same time, this Japan feels strangely sterile. Tokyo is too empty during the day, the traffic too light, and the famous Shibuya Crossing remains a cordoned-off set piece – more of a photo spot than the world's busiest intersection. The technical authenticity of the scenery stands in striking contrast to the lifelessness of the world. Where are all the office workers in Tokyo? All the idol groups on the roadside? No one works in the garages, fields aren't plowed, and parking garages, due to their emptiness, almost feel like liminal spaces. Even the festival grounds are strangely quiet, although fireworks at night might suggest otherwise. Traffic? Hardly any. The almost complete absence of animals also surprised me. No cats on the roofs, no Shiba Inus in the audience, no wild animals darting by. At least I occasionally hear cicadas or a few birds gliding overhead. Well, I did come across a herd of cows once, which stood out because four-legged creatures are so rare in the game world.
Where has everyone gone? Tokyo seems far too empty. You only see more life in the cutscenes.
Progression between motivation and overload
Forza Horizon 6 responds to the much-criticized Superstar entry system of previous installments with a new wristband system: I arrive in Japan as a tourist and work my way up through seven wristband levels to Legend status by completing street, dirt, and cross-country events. Simultaneously, the Collection Journal documents my discoveries (landmarks, murals, cultural activities) and rewards them with new player homes, barn find clues, and access to my own homes. The new Garage Customizer also allows me to personalize my walk-in garages.
Drag races are nice for photos, but obviously quite undemanding, because you only drive straight ahead.
On paper, this sounds like a return to a stronger sense of career progression, but in practice, this promise quickly evaporates. The game continues to shower me with credits, cars, gambling opportunities, and side rewards. Owners of the Premium Edition already start with several high-end vehicles – and even the Deluxe version provides a substantial collection early on. There's little sign of the promised "rags to riches" principle. The Wheelspins, a kind of digital slot machine, don't fit either the Japanese aesthetic or this promise of upward mobility. At the latest, when dozens of event icons rain down on the map like confetti after each new wristband, the initial boost in motivation gives way to mere randomness: The world doesn't feel curated, but rather overloaded, and individual races lose their significance in this sheer volume.
It's a typical open-world problem: the map bombards you with tasks and symbols. The races are so jumbled together that you hardly get a sense of progression.
Driving physics: Spongy instead of grippy
Behind the wheel, Forza Horizon 6 remains true to its heritage: even high-performance cars are pleasantly accessible to control with a gamepad, and with driving aids disabled and a steering wheel, the handling can be steered in a somewhat believable, simcade-like direction. The problem isn't so much how an individual car feels, but rather how little the different driving disciplines vary from one another.
Depending on the type of tires chosen for tuning and the vehicle, the driving experience reminded me more of inflatable boats. That makes sense in a way, like here in snow... but it also happens on asphalt or gravel.
The rally and dirt events, in particular, suffer from a vague feeling: the vehicles slide too easily over loose surfaces, weight shifts and changes in grip often seem merely cosmetic instead of truly challenging my driving style. With some cars, I had the impression of pushing a hovercraft around. Off-road, rally, road, snow – on paper, different categories, but in practice, surprisingly similar driving physics with few real consequences when I'm thrashing a Lamborghini cross-country through the woods. As in its more recent predecessors, roads are more of a recommendation here, as long as you manage to reach the checkpoints. Added to this is an inconsistent collision detection system: most small trees and fences shatter like cardboard, while individual thick trunks or posts remain intact – this seems arbitrary.
The races with the sports cars, which mostly take place at night, felt more exhilarating to me. The sense of speed is incredibly good!
Those coming from focused arcade racers like Screamer or Dirt will find little to like here. It's a rollercoaster of emotions: one moment I'm swept away by the exhilarating sense of speed, but woe betide me if my car loses even the slightest control. Then it skids across the asphalt like a bar of soap for meters. Added to this is the old Drivatar problem: either I set the difficulty level so I can easily overtake on the last lap, or I ram the AI into the back in the crucial corner – neither of which rarely makes for exciting race drama.
On the medium difficulty levels, I leave the competition in the dust, but on the high levels, they drive the perfect line and are practically unbeatable. Hmm, the balance could definitely use some work.
Sound design without impact
The audio presents a similar picture: audible improvements in detail, but surprisingly little punch. The sound changes noticeably depending on the environment – tunnels, narrow urban canyons, or mountain roads realistically model echoes and reverberation, creating some nice moments in the cockpit. At the same time, many engines sound too thin and generic. Legendary JDM icons lose some of their character, and electric cars share an interchangeable, vacuum cleaner-like sound. To really enjoy the sound, I had to delve deep into the options: drastically turning down the music, reducing ambient noise, and cranking up only the engine sounds. The result was "okay," but far from a sound that really packs a punch – which is what you'd expect from such an elaborately produced first-party racer.
Visually, I thought the vehicle models were brilliantly executed, even if they don't quite reach the obsessive level of detail found in Gran Turismo. However, the sound design still needs improvement.
Sidebar: What makes Japanese car culture so special
To understand why the portrayal of Japan in Forza Horizon 6 is so disappointing, a brief look at reality is worthwhile. Japan's car culture is a paradox of rigid regulations and anarchic rebellion: strict approval tests (Shaken) drive innovation and tuning creativity, while at the same time wildly modified cars – from Bosozoku bikes to Kaido racers – serve as deliberately provocative statements against social conformity.
Two playgrounds are particularly famous: the Touge, narrow mountain passes where driving precision, weight transfer, and rhythm through the corners are paramount, and the Wangan, the Shuto motorway loop between Tokyo and Yokohama, where the infamous Mid Night Club pushed street-legal cars to speeds exceeding 300 km/h. This was all done under a strict code of conduct, never endangering bystanders. Cultural phenomena like Initial D have made this scene a global icon: a seemingly unassuming Toyota AE86, driven with skill and a carefully chosen setup, outperforming significantly more powerful opponents on the Touge, became a symbol that technical understanding and courage can be more important than sheer horsepower figures.
Against this backdrop, Japan would be the ideal stage to tell stories of passion, risk, honor, and the spirituality of craftsmanship (monozukuri) – about parking lots like Daikoku PA, where an unspoken code of conduct prevails, or about the tension between illegal night races and an extremely orderly everyday life. Forza Horizon 6 touches on all of this without ever truly immersing itself. There are drift clubs, Touge battles, street races, and the digitized Daikoku parking area; there are photo tours through Tokyo and brief excursions into manufacturers – but the presentation remains limited to dutifully read-aloud facts about model year and history. It's more reminiscent of a themed restaurant than a genuine subculture: you sample tastefully arranged appetizers instead of freezing your butt off somewhere by the bay at night and dropping into a vibrant subculture.