Introduction

Streets of Rage 4 arrives like a reunion tour for a band you loved in the '90s: same iconic riffs, a few fresh faces on stage, and a stage show polished enough to make you forgive the occasional mid-set nostalgia solo. On PS4 the game continues Sega's side-scrolling brawler legacy with a modern sheen, but its real selling point isn't just the slick hand-drawn art or the thumping soundtrack - it's the cast. The developers leaned into character identity, giving each fighter not only distinct moves but tiny personal arcs that pay off across the game's compact story. If you play Streets of Rage 4 for the combos you get a solid brawler; if you play it for the characters, you get something like a two-hour action movie where everyone actually gets to have feelings and a punch.

Gameplay

Streets of Rage 4 keeps the familiar formula: side-scrolling levels, waves of enemies, disposable weapons, and a score system that rewards stylish brutality. That baseline is sturdy enough, but the game elevates itself by making character identity mean something mechanically and narratively. Axel Stone and Blaze Fielding are the emotional spine of the story; veterans who carry the weight of the franchise like leather jackets that have seen better nights. Gameplay-wise they're the comfortable options - reliable combos, satisfying throws, and the kind of muscle memory you develop after finishing a boss with one health bar left just to flex. Adam Hunter's arc is a nice bit of fan service turned meaningful. He started as a classic original-game hero and here he returns in story scenes as a deus ex machina who shows up to save the others from incarceration. Unlocking him as a playable character ties the player's agency to that narrative beat: you don't just see Adam help you escape, you can now be Adam and relive the rescue with his original game-inspired moveset. That continuity feels deliberate, as if the designers respected player's nostalgia while asking those players to re-evaluate what those characters mean in a modern brawler. Cherry Hunter - Adam's punk-rock daughter - is the braid of fresh energy the series needed. She's not a copy of her dad: her sprite work and move set emphasize speed, acrobatic flair, and a pop-'n'-lock personality that reads as both a gameplay counterpoint and a generational narrative. Where Axel represents muscle and Blaze is cool competence, Cherry is the franchise's attempt to shrug and say "we're still relevant" while actually doing it. She changes how levels flow - enemies bounce off her aerial combos and she rewards aggressive, high-risk play. Her arc is simple but satisfying: daughter of a legend proves she belongs in the ring. Floyd Iraia is the game's most obvious mechanical experiment wrapped in a sympathetic patchwork. Part-cybernetic, the apprentice of Dr. Zan, Floyd brings grappling tech and a long-range hook that reshapes spacing and enemy handling. Narrative-wise he's the literal future-of-the-series: half-robot, half-big-hearted maniac, and fully earnest. His design lets the game flirt with tech themes without getting preachy - he's a new tool for players who want to control the screen rather than dominate it from up-close. Shiva and Max operate as both gameplay toys and key story players. Shiva keeps that graceful, weapons-based menace and offers parry and aerial rave mechanics that reward precision. Max's trademark is the brute force and interesting mobility like wall jumps and grappling jumps when you unlock his 16-bit version; as a boss turned playable unlock he provides catharsis when you finally control the guy you pummeled in a previous act. Both characters underline a design philosophy: every boss should feel like a puzzle you want to solve with their own moves once you can play them. The antagonists - the Y twins, Mr. and Ms. Y - are the plot engine. Being Mr. X's children, they cast a long familial shadow and run a Syndicate trying to hypnotize the city with a broadcast signal. Mechanically this manifests as a string of set-pieces: brainwashed henchmen, a concert stage designed to be chaotic, and a few boss fights that let the player taste the consequences of the twins' plan. Estel Aguirre, the cop who initially arrests the heroes, delivers another small but neat arc: resistance to authority becomes reluctant ally, which culminates in her helping the heroes see the truth and break them out. It's a tidy modern riff on the "cops are bad" trope that somehow avoids feeling lazy because it gives Estel a moment of agency rather than making her a mere plot obstacle. Story Mode stages act as beats in each character's mini-arc. You're arrested under false accusations, you break out, you confront brainwashed friends, you save the city from mass hypnosis, and then you go home. It's not Shakespeare, but the game ekes moments of personality from each confrontation. Unlockable 16-bit versions of characters (and even Roo) function as nostalgic trophies: they don't just alter visuals, they link mechanical changes to the history of the series, letting you experience how these fighters evolved. The Mr. X Nightmare DLC doubles down on character-focused content by adding playable versions of bosses like Shiva and Max plus Estel, turning antagonists into sympathetic, controllable power fantasies. Combat depth comes from new systems: the Star Moves, special-attacks-that-cost-health-but-can-be-restored, and a combo system that rewards juggling and wall-bounces. The risk-reward loop pairs nicely with character arcs - Cherry's aerial combos feel like narrative payoff for her rebellious swagger, Floyd's grapples echo his cyborg upgrade story. Play the game with that mindset and your high-score board becomes a scrapbook of who you preferred to be.

Graphics

Streets of Rage 4 looks like a hand-painted fever dream of a Saturday morning cartoon that grew up on synthwave. The visuals are deliberately modern: hand-drawn 2D animations with ridiculous frame counts - roughly a thousand frames per playable character, and 300-400 for enemies - which translates into buttery motion and surprising detail when you watch a punch land. On PS4 the result is a game that pays tribute to its 16-bit roots while refusing to be a retro mimic. Backgrounds snap with neon grit, character expressions register little personal moments between hits, and the animation fidelity gives every special move cinematic oomph. That attention to animation also plays into character storytelling: a defeated shout from Blaze feels lived-in because you can see the tiny slump in her shoulders; Cherry's victory poses read like punk album covers. The soundtrack and audio design deserve a shout-out in this section because graphics and sound are married in the whole presentation. Olivier Deriviere helms the primary score with guest contributions from series legends like Yuzo Koshiro and newer voices like Tee Lopes on DLC. Boss tracks get their own composers, which makes each fight feel like its own episode theme. The game even offers a retro soundtrack swap for the original Genesis/Mega Drive tunes, so you can fight with modern visuals and vintage beats if you want a split-personality vibe.

Conclusion

Streets of Rage 4 on PS4 is a big-hearted brawler that knows its strengths: tight combat, vivid presentation, and characters who matter beyond their moveset. It isn't a sprawling narrative masterpiece, but its succinct story weaves the emotional throughline the series rarely bothered to attempt in earlier entries. The game respects its legacy while injecting personality into every punch; veterans get callbacks and unlockables, new players get a polished beat 'em up with surprising mechanical depth. If you care about characters in your arcade brawlers - who they are, what they mean, and why you should keep playing as them - Streets of Rage 4 is worth your time. Score-wise, it sits comfortably above average: a confident revival that occasionally plays it safe but mostly delivers a knockout combo of style, music, and character-driven fun.

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