Sega’s turn-of-the-millennium spirit also lives on through the subsequent generations of developers who’ve been inspired by its legacy. It lives on through the ambitions of those who build upon and reinvent its concepts, and through those who create new and bespoke experiences of their own — just as Sega’s studios had done at their creative peak. At its core, the Sega spirit is a pioneering spirit. And when we pay homage to its past, it stands to reason that we ought to embrace the future, as well.
Conceived as a pandemic passion project by solo developer Cassius John-Adams, Mile High Taxi (officially stylized as MiLE HiGH TAXi) is the latest game to shepherd that legacy. It pays clear homage to Crazy Taxi but with a futuristic twist. Mile High supplements AM3/Hitmaker’s fare attack concept with the verticality of that chase scene in The Fifth Element where Bruce Willis nosedived his hovercab through hovertraffic to evade the hovercops.
The game wears its influences like a hood ornament, tasking you with picking up and dropping off passengers throughout an exhausting and suffocating metropolis. As with Hitmaker’s forebearer, you’ll earn some cash and replenish a ticking countdown timer with each successful drop off. Those fares are well earned as you’ll spend most of the time weaving through (and into) a grid of infinitely tall skyscrapers while being constantly berated by the passenger and pedestrian populace.
Mile High’s towering cityscape is irradiated with billboards featuring clever nods to ‘80s and ‘90s films like Idiocracy, The Fifth Element (obviously), and Coming to America. Belying its title, Mile High Taxi appears to be set in a futuristic version of Toronto rather than Denver, Colorado – at least inferring from its abundant references to Tim Hortons and Quays (pronounced like “keys”, not “kways” as one NPC will frequently remind you). Either way, of all the dystopian cities I’ve explored in video games, Mile High’s is by far the most Canadian.
Conceptually, Mile High plays like Crazy Taxi in six dimensions with vertical maneuverability added to the formula. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for it to feel like precisely that: a formula. You begin by picking up customers on suspended platforms and pedestrian bridges, waiting as they leap into your cab (via karate kick, front flip, or diving chop) before stating the generic cross-streets and elevation of their destination. From there, it’s a mad dash to the drop-off point, with a floating arrow and GPS-style map for guidance.
The scoring system is a little obtuse. There doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to the feedback you receive from passengers, but it's usually negative. Passengers frequently complain, except when you smash through street signs, stop lights, and patio furniture. They love that shit.
Which, fair. So do I.
Unfortunately, Mile High’s novelty wears thin after a few minutes of chauffeuring random passengers to indiscernible locations around its nondescript grid. Lacking distinct landmarks, varied street layouts, or unique neighborhood aesthetics, there’s little to distinguish one trip from the next. Each trip is approached more or less the same way, and Mile High’s fare loop dissolves into an amorphous, unmemorable haze long before the timer runs out.