If you’re a gamer, hardcore or casual, you’ll have undoubtedly encountered one of the largest entertainment franchises ever made: Grand Theft Auto.
Whether it was sneaking a few illicit hours on a PlayStation 2, cruising around Vice City while ignoring every mission objective, or more recently losing entire weekends to Los Santos, GTA has become one of those cultural touchstones that extends far beyond gaming. Even people who have never picked up a controller know what it is.
The premise is simple enough. Crime, chaos, satire and, of course, cars.
Lots and lots of cars.
Naturally, the series became famous for allowing players to hop into almost any vehicle they spotted in traffic, politely asking the owner to vacate the premises. By “politely asking” I mean dragging them through the driver’s window and disappearing into the sunset. Grand theft auto, quite literally.
That isn’t the connection I’m referring to, however.
No, the thing that struck me while wandering the streets and roads of Zhengzhou was something else entirely.
The cars
Every generation of Grand Theft Auto is filled with vehicles that don’t technically exist. Rockstar’s designers have always walked a fascinating line between inspiration and imitation. The cars look familiar, but not quite familiar enough to trigger a visit from a team of expensive lawyers.
A Comet that is clearly channeling a Porsche 911. A Banshee carrying more than a passing resemblance to a Dodge Viper. The Buffalo borrowing heavily from American muscle car traditions. The Sultan feeling suspiciously Subaru-like. The list goes on.
They’re tributes. Homages. Parodies. Or perhaps just plausible deniability with four wheels. Whatever the case, they’re instantly recognisable while remaining entirely fictional. And that, surprisingly, is exactly what driving around China felt like.
Now before anyone sharpens their pitchforks, this isn’t a criticism. Quite the opposite. It was one of the most entertaining aspects of the trip.
At almost every traffic light there was another automotive déjà vu moment waiting to happen. You’d glance left and spot something that looked vaguely like a Range Rover. Then you’d notice details that weren’t quite right.
To your right, a silhouette that hinted at a Lamborghini Urus before revealing itself to be something altogether different. Further ahead, a shape reminiscent of a Defender, a Porsche, a Mercedes-Benz G-Class or perhaps three of them simultaneously after a particularly enthusiastic design meeting.
It’s like somebody loaded up a GTA map and populated the roads with every fictional manufacturer from the game.
The funny thing is that, increasingly, these Chinese brands are no longer simply followers. Some of the newer models are developing identities all their own. Yet the industry is moving so quickly that every few kilometres there seemed to be another badge I’d never encountered before.
As a South African motoring journalist, that was both exciting and mildly humbling. I spend a considerable portion of my life pretending I know cars.
Then I arrive in China and discover entire automotive ecosystems operating beyond my knowledge. Brands I’ve never heard of. Models I’ve never seen. Technologies arriving at a pace that makes the rest of the world look like it’s updating via dial-up internet.
It felt a little like arriving in Los Santos and realising every vehicle on the map is brand new.
What’s particularly amusing is the timing of it all.
While China’s automotive industry is flooding the world with new brands, new technologies and new interpretations of what a car can be, the gaming world is collectively losing its mind over Grand Theft Auto VI.
Every screenshot, trailer frame and leaked detail is dissected with forensic precision. Car enthusiasts are already identifying which real-world vehicles inspired the game’s digital creations.
Meanwhile, in China, reality seems to be performing the same exercise in reverse.
Designers are creating cars that feel familiar, futuristic and occasionally inspired by something you’ve definitely seen before, even if you can’t immediately place where.
For somebody who grew up obsessed with both cars and video games, it’s difficult not to appreciate the symmetry. On one side, you have a virtual world filled with fictional cars inspired by reality. On the other, a real-world automotive revolution producing vehicles that occasionally feel like they escaped from a video game.
Somewhere in the middle stands a slightly confused South African with a camera around his neck, trying to remember whether the SUV passing by belongs to a manufacturer, a gaming console, or perhaps both. But as GTA VI dominates headlines and China’s carmakers continue launching new models at a breathtaking rate, it feels like a remarkably entertaining moment to be paying attention.
And unlike Grand Theft Auto, nobody had to be pulled through a driver’s window for me to experience it.