There are a few certainties in life - death, taxes, clichéd opening sentences like this, and Virtua Tennis' game design. Honestly, watching Virtua Tennis evolve is like watching grass grow - it's pretty bloody slow, and you can basically shut your eyes and still know where it's headed. That's not to say that the Virtua Tennis games are in any way bad - as far as grass growing, this is pretty good stuff; it's just that with each iteration, it's harder to justify spending more money for what is essentially a very similar experience. There's nothing fundamentally wrong with Virtua Tennis 3, and in fact, the core gameplay is as good as ever, but it just doesn't take the step forward that it could, and probably should. Particularly in its PS3 incarnation, but more on that later.

Somewhat critical introduction out of the way, there is a lot to like about this game. SEGA nailed the sense of movement and the ball physics right from the first game in the series, and these elements have continued to improve. Player animations are stunning for the most part, only falling down occasionally by virtue of the fact that they are so good. When you see a player sprinting back down the line in an attempt to reach the ball while he's still facing forward, for instance, it doesn't gel with what you know the player's intent would be - to simply get to the ball. If anything these moments are a compliment - as with any game that emulates real life, the closer you get to reality, the more you'll pick up on minor flaws. By and large Virtua Tennis 3 is a joy to watch, and even after extended play you'll still see the odd animation you haven't come across yet.

In this ever evolving world of hyper-realism and high-definition hoo-hah, you can always rely on Ridge Racer to take things back to basics. Flying in the face of Gran Turismo's beneath-the-bonnet tinkering and the over-the-top mud bath that is MotorStorm, this latest installment of Namco's arcade racing series is high-speed rubber-burning at its purest and most simple. In fact, cosmetic details aside, playing it is more like stepping back in time rather than embracing the next generation and there isn't a great deal to separate Ridge Racer 7 from the original game that ushered in the PlayStation back in 1995.
Thing is, Ridge purists wouldn't want it any other way and, after playing ever-more complex racers swamped with unnecessary options and modes, playing something that's so straightforward, so - dare we say it - old school, actually makes for a refreshing change.
That's not to say Ridge Racer 7 doesn't offer anything new. Take the Ridge State Grand Prix for example. It's a fleshed-out career mode that serves as the main event in the game, a sprawling racing season where players start out with… well, nothing, not even a car. Before you can make a name for yourself out on the circuit you have to earn the right to compete with the best, by driving in a trial race. Win - which, to be honest, is a complete breeze - and you're awarded a car and are free to steer your racing career in any direction you wish.