In what’s been an onslaught of game releases in recent months, with THAT behemoth lurking on the horizon, no less, you may be forgiven for not keeping tabs on Stupid Never Dies. An irreverent, goofy and visually garish action game that messes with the traditional tropes of the undead, it’s got all the markings of a Suda 51-esque rollercoaster of a time. But, with zombie games a dime-a-dozen, can this entry truly stand out amongst its contemporaries?

I came into the game knowing very little, aside from its brawling action and brash aesthetic, so we’d better dive into this eclectic blend of rotting flesh and discover whether it joins the pantheon of cult classics, or ends up with a bullet to the head. One thing’s for sure, Stupid Never Dies won’t be taking itself seriously at any stage.

Stupid Never Lies

Stupid Never Dies has one of the most off-the-wall and nonsensical plots I’ve come across in recent memory. In this universe, monsters overthrew humans, eradicating the vast majority of life from Earth. Establishing a hierarchy of monstrous intent, zombies are considered pathetic and worthless, left to wander the land while the oh-so-important beasties entered the dungeon – an ethereal plane of existence. Their leader, ROM, seeks to swallow up the entirety of the Earth itself, and everything that resides on it.

So enters our player character, Davy, who himself is a zombie. One who fled the fighting and is constantly judged for it, no less. Davy is obsessed with a woman who was frozen inside an industrial freezer in a mall, and is determined to restore her to life. To do so, he must Style Eat (yes, literally eat) the most powerful monsters in the dungeon, thanks to a Phoenix Egg he accidentally ate. If what I’ve described so far sounds wacky, you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.

To my complete shock, the story is brilliantly voiced, from the mad scientist and anthropomorphic dog you work with, to Davy himself, every character gives it their all. The plot is both superficial and juvenile as sin, and yet somewhat interesting and layered at the same time. The dynamic between Davy and his frozen crush can veer into uncomfortable stalker territory slightly, but generally contents itself with being light-hearted, dumb fun, that’s surprisingly well acted.

Stupid Never Tries

Once you’re into the throws of combat, Stupid Never Dies becomes much more tame and understandable than its larger than life plot. Davy has access to regular and special attacks, as well as abilities on cooldown and a “Stupid Parry”. Which, funnily enough, is where he launches himself into attacks, takes damage, but gets to riposte to deal some serious pain in return. While the animations are stylish, the act of battling is often floaty and imprecise, especially against aerial targets, which is a pain.

There’s also no lock-on or soft stickiness to make sure you’re actually hitting your target, which can also be frustrating. However, booting a demon straight into the abyss is always a delight. There’s a wide variety of monster types, as well as a tranche of OT (over technology) weaponry that Davy can make use of, which keeps things moving at a brisk pace. Moreover, defeating elite variations of creatures allows you to temporarily transform into that monster, giving access to unique movesets and abilities.

This ties into the game’s rogue-like nature superbly, encouraging constant on-the-fly swapping and mixing of abilities, attacks and specials. When it flows, there’s a rhythmic quality to it. Unfortunately, it is lacking in depth. You can’t combo juggle enemies in a Devil May Cry fashion, for example (owing to the time it takes to swap), and each Style still only has two basic moves and one special at a time. I really enjoyed the thrill of learning and tinkering, but after a good few runs, it’ll start to feel very familiar, with a lower ceiling for skill expression. Still, nothing that’ll rot the limbs completely.

Stupid Never Hides

Which brings me neatly to the rogue-like structure of Stupid Never Dies. Unlike most of its contemporaries, this game has you playing as a shambling, relatively useless zombie, who gets by on vibes and stubborn will. As such, you’re expected to die, often. Each time you’re felled, you return to the hub world of the mall, losing some of your earned items or currencies, but largely intact. It’s most interesting mechanic is that, upon death, your XP multiplayer will permanently increase.

That’s right, you’re actively rewarded for failures. If anything, Stupid Never Dies is the first of the genre where the permanent progression outside of runs is the focal point of the game. I’m currently sat on a 4,600% XP multiplayer, meaning starting any dungeon has me powering up to level 15 after beating a single mob. It’s an engrossing dopamine hit, and sits alongside a litany of other upgrade systems the game has to keep you plugging away.

Bessie’s Burgers offers upgradable rarities of receipts which provide stronger in-run bonuses. Ink on the Wall provides OT items you can equip to improve stats and your chosen ability. Mino’s Ice Cream upgrades your stats using currency earned by felling bosses. Giving presents to Davy’s crush will uptick his rage mode. Stupid Never Dies is a complex web of systems that positively force you like a mob of zombies to chow down on its flesh. It’s initially confusing, but provides such a welcome change of pace which wants you to feel like the obstacle is only a matter of perseverance rather than gut-wrenching challenge.

Stupid Never Blithes

Don’t get it twisted like an undead’s neck, however, Stupid Never Dies is certainly no pushover. While basic mobs are essentially fodder for your levelling purposes, the bosses will spot check you in no time. Sometimes, I would one-try them, then immediately find them again in the next run and be one-shotted right back to the mall (sometimes in an unceremonious trash bag…). They have decently wide movesets, alongside usually bringing in extra fodder enemies or elemental problems to deal with.

They’re largely entertaining and the few times where the game really pushes your understanding of the mechanics. Poor preparation may leave you under levelled, or lacking a Style to switch to, for example. The aerial problem arises here, with even more fervour. Some styles (including the default) are woefully poor at tracking flying targets, making winged bosses an absolute chore. After some practice, I could negate this through good preparation or trial and error, but it’s still annoying to have a run ended by one.

All in all, Stupid Never Dies has a fast food feel about its gameplay. It’s tasty, straightforward and layered with dopamine chemicals. It’s also not especially nutritious or satisfying over the longer term. Provided you’re accepting of that trade off, there’s plenty to like about its ever increasing power fantasy. Something about whacking a single Lich and levelling up 10 times that just hits like that first bite of human arm, ya know?

Stupid Never Shies

If there’s one aspect that Stupid Never Dies shows an unabashed fearlessness in, it’s the art style. It’s a close cousin of the cell shaded Borderlands lineage, but dialed up to about 1,000. Colour grading isn’t a thing here, with every red, yellow and purple positively bursting out of the screen. Everything is highly contrasted, hugely saturated and given a brightness that even a solar star would struggle to match.

As I mentioned at the top, it quite can be fairly confronting and brash as you acclimatise. However, I came to appreciate the distinct levels and how they were differentiated by such strong hues. You certainly won’t be mistaking an icy Nordic realm for the Molten Lava volcano. I dig the character models and animation work, all of which have a creative flair of completely impractical yet unapologetically cool. Even the way Davy has OT parts zapped onto his corpse is fittingly violent.

Throw in a pretty killer soundtrack and an earnest effort to be fun, light-hearted and silly, and I think Stupid Never Dies just about walks the line between bright and fanciful, without creeping over into painful to look at or put up with. The mess of explosions and alarming colourful indicators can become overwhelming in bigger encounters, but that’s par for the course with this genre and visual styling.

Stupid Never Ties

Stupid Never Dies reminded me a lot of Gori: Cuddly Carnage, and I feel very similarly here as I did with that game (read: mostly positively). While my motivation to plough through the ridiculous number of layers of this ever expanding dungeon wained somewhat after half a dozen hours, I kept coming back anyway. It’s a surefire hit of adrenaline that nails all the right progression notes to hook you in like a zombie sniffing fresh flesh, but for extended play sessions you may benefit from having something else to swap between.

Over-the-top, messy and eccentric to the nth degree, Stupid Never Dies is always entertaining, even if it can be overwhelming with its numerous systems and imprecise combat. You literally start runs by flushing yourself down the toilet, and I came to respect that willingness to be self-depreciating and upfront with its juvenile nature. It sometimes lands with an ungracious thud, but the voice acting and visual variety hold up surprisingly well.

If you’re in the mall for a new rogue-like which has a different spin from usual, and you don’t mind literal toilet humour and in-your-face visual stylings, Stupid Never Dies may just be the nonsensical shambling horde you never knew you needed.

Stupid Never Dies is available October 21st on PlayStation 5 (review platform) and PC.

Developer: GPTRACK50
Publisher: GPTRACK50

Disclaimer: In order to complete this review, we were provided with a promotional copy of the game. For our full review policy, please go here.

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