A Truckload of Tragedy.
First off, he laments about the lack of goals in the game. He whinges on that there is no cargo to haul, no police chases, not much of anything. What he fails to grasp is the message Big Rig sends in the very futility of attempt. What point is there of hauling cargo that will ultimately be consumed in robotic fashion by an uncaring populace? Criminals incarcerated during a police chase, despite their victim's blood dripping from their hands and a confession pinned to their jacket, are simply set free via the efforts of slick lawyers and the failings of judicial machinations. What is the point of even trying? comes a plaintive cry from Big Rigs. The answer is apparent. There is no point. Time to lay down and die. This comment on society is driven home (or in fact, not driven at all) even further by the computer AI. It doesn't even leave the starting gate. Much like the dreams and aspirations we harbour as youth, reving our engines on a starting line where the crack of the pistol never comes. Meanwhile, those of privledge cruise to easy victory, unconcerned over such mundane things as rent or grocery bills or collideable landscapes. The societal implications here in the game are staggering.
Perhaps the most stunning allegory is the limbo a driver finds themselves in if they venture off the beaten track. Here the game seems to provide an escape hatch for those willing to take a risk and explore the more remote possibilities of life. It also serves as a stark reminder of the ultimate destination we all are headed for. All roads lead to purgatory; where you go from there is anyone's guess.
It's been awhile since a game of such staggering implications has come along, so I suppose it's not surprising it might knock mainstream reviewers for a loop. But if you open your minds to the possibilities, all roads lead to nirvana.