You've got to admire a game that doesn't so much turn its back on its contemporaries' approach to the genre but smears dirty great skidmarks on their driveways.

Racing games generally come complete with a ear-splintering soundtracks, fidgety instructors draped in labelled clothing bellowing phrases three years out of date, and a cavalier attitude to safety.

Old Sebby here, however, is one earnest fellow.

"Excuse me my good man, but did you know rally driving is thoroughly dangerous, what?"

"Why yes, it is ever so. Nevertheless it's spiffing whizzer jolly plimpy tops what ho, no?"

Maybe it's not quite as Cholmondley-Warner as that, but Sebs is a surprisingly poe-faced racer, more in the vein of the equally straight-as-a-die F1 rather than shins-in-a-vice Dirt.

But stiff-upper-lip presentation aside, thrashing this thing around the track will tell us more about what's under the bonnet rather than how soft the upholstery is on one's buttocks.

And I have to say Loeb is a stroppy little monster which either careens swiftly into the corner through horrendously stiff steering or skids sideways thanks to an overly-juicy handbrake.

It takes a good half-dozen races to get used to this set-up and start performing with any kind of prowess, which isn't ideal. Physics-wise Loeb also has a curious penchant to toss himself through the air after the lightest of touches. It's about as natural as that demonic thing that sits on Donald Trump's head.

You can't knock Loeby's attention to detail, however, he has dumped a load of cars in here (around 60-odd) plus a boot-load of tracks and driving options.

He just needs force-feeding a personality sandwich.