The racing sim genre houses some behemoths that everybody knows and love but I’m always curious to see what happens when another player enters the game. Project Motor Racing positions itself as a serious racing title, one that values mechanical depth, realism, and respect for motorsport heritage. On paper, that’s exactly the kind of game that would fit in perfectly between the bigger franchises. In practice, it’s a game that constantly feels like it’s asking more from the player than it gives back in return.
From the first hour onward, I kept waiting for the moment when everything would click. Where the handling would suddenly make sense, where the cars would start talking back through the controller, where the challenge would feel earned instead of imposed, that moment never really arrived. Instead, Project Motor Racing falls into an awkward loop where you’re always aware of the systems underneath but never in the racing itself.
Simulation gone wrong
Project Motor Racing is unapologetic about what it wants to be, and that’s a simulation game pur sang where the depth of technical aspects carries more weight than the actual race. It doesn’t take a lot of time to explain the basics or let you know its logic. Instead, you’re dropped into the cockpit of a twitchy car with setups that often work against you, and very little sense of how the game expects you to improve. That can be admirable in a hardcore sim, but here it often comes across as stubborn and just being hard for the sake of being hard. I have no issues with other modern simulation racers, but this one really is pushing the boundaries of what is considered fun. The idea is certainly there, but it doesn’t always work out like you would have hoped.
The handling model aims for realism, yet regularly crosses into inconsistency. One lap, you feel planted and in control, the next you’re spinning out under circumstances that don’t feel meaningfully different. Everything feels unpredictable, weight transfer feels exaggerated at odd moments, and braking zones can feel oddly vague. When you make a mistake, it’s not always clear why you made it, and that’s a problem in a genre built on learning and mastery.
The absence of strong onboarding only amplifies this. There’s no real sense of progression in how the game introduces its mechanics. Instead of teaching you its language, Project Motor Racing expects you to already be fluent. For experienced sim racers with wheels, telemetry knowledge, and endless patience, that might be fine. For everyone else, it borders on alienating.
The Career mode lacks momentum
Racing itself is, of course, the heart of the game, but it’s not limited to some free racing modes. Career mode should be where a racing game earns its place. It’s where motivation builds, rivalries form, and your relationship with the cars deepens over time. Here, it feels oddly mechanical. Events come and go, championships blur together, and progression lacks a satisfying arc. Part of that is pacing. Early races can feel disproportionately punishing, while later ones lose tension once you finally wrestle the systems into something workable. Difficulty doesn’t scale in a way that feels natural; instead, it spikes and dips depending more on track behavior and AI quirks than on your own growth as a driver.
The AI itself is another mixed bag. Sometimes it feels overly cautious, lining up politely behind you. Other times, it lunges with a level of aggression that feels disconnected from racing logic. There’s no strong sense of personality or adaptability, which makes races feel less like contests and more like unpredictable laps, which, of course, is not the way to go in a simulator. It’s not all bad, though. When it works, it works well, and it can be challenging and fair. It’s just a shame it lacks consistency when it comes to its learning curve and AI behaviour.
The presentation
Visually, Project Motor Racing has moments where it genuinely impresses. Lighting during specific times of day can be striking, weather effects add atmosphere, and certain cars look fantastic when viewed up close. But these highs are, just like the rest of the game, inconsistent, and they sit alongside textures, environments, and replays that feel a generation behind.
Performance issues don’t help. Even when things mostly hold together, there’s a subtle lack of smoothness that undermines immersion. Racing games thrive on flow, you know, that sensation of speed, the rhythm of corners, the trust that what you see and feel aligns perfectly. Here, that flow is frequently interrupted, whether by visual hiccups, audio flatness, or subtle input disconnects.
Who is this really for?
This is the question I kept coming back to. Project Motor Racing feels too rigid for newcomers and too rough for veterans. It wants to be taken seriously, yet doesn’t consistently deliver the refinement that serious sim players expect. At the same time, it offers very little to ease players into its systems, making it a tough sell for anyone without prior dedication to the genre.
There’s clearly passion behind the project. You can feel that the developers care about motorsport, about authenticity, about honoring racing history. But passion alone isn’t enough. Without clearer feedback, better balance, and more cohesive design, that passion struggles to translate into enjoyment. Could this improve over time? Possibly. With updates, tuning passes, and smarter difficulty curves, Project Motor Racing might evolve into something stronger. But judging it as it exists right now, it feels unfinished in ways that matter.
Conclusion
Project Motor Racing isn’t broken, but it is frustrating. It’s the kind of game that constantly reminds you of what it’s trying to be, rather than letting you forget and simply race. There are sparks of potential here, but they’re buried beneath awkward pacing, inconsistent handling, and a lack of player-centric design.
