Stupid Never Dies has enough punk personality and monster-munching fun to keep its awkward combat from killing the mood
I really enjoyed Stupid Never Dies. I also spent a fair amount of time wishing its combat felt better. Those two things lived together throughout my time on PS5, because this game has so much personality that I kept wanting another trip into its ridiculous world. A zombie riding a Roomba around a shopping mall goes a surprisingly long way toward keeping me invested.
The art direction is easily my favorite thing here. It is vibrant, colorful, punk, and covered in the kind of sticker-like graphics that make everything feel deliberately defaced. There is a very Gen Z energy to the whole presentation, like someone turned a chaotic group chat into a monster action game. It has one of the most distinctive looks I have seen in recent memory.
That style carries through to the characters and their dialogue. Everyone looks ridiculous, talks ridiculous, and somehow belongs in the same world. The enthusiasm for being weird reminded me of Romeo Is A Dead Man, particularly how casually both games introduce something completely absurd. Here, the punk aesthetic gives all that nonsense a consistent identity, and I loved spending time with it.
You play as Davy, a zombie who finds a frozen girl inside a refrigerator room and falls in love with her. She cannot exactly participate in this relationship, which makes his devotion immediately questionable and very funny. A mad scientist promises to help unfreeze her if Davy ventures into the depths and takes on KOM, the King of Monsters. Your route into this adventure? A toilet. Of course.
A shopping mall full of weirdos
The mall hub is home to a wonderful collection of oddballs. There is a were-chihuahua who builds attachments for your head, arms, and legs, while being a bit of an asshole to Davy. Davy gives him plenty back, and their bickering makes visiting the upgrade guy more entertaining than browsing a menu. Improving your character fits naturally into spending time with these people.
There is also a zombie woman selling recipes that feed into the power-ups available during your trips, and a zombie clown handing out rewards. A talking gargoyle helps you access the frozen girl's device, gradually revealing more about her life. Yes, part of this strange romance involves snooping through her social media. The setup is creepy, silly, and surprisingly effective at making me curious about who she actually is.
I liked having that thread to follow between runs. Getting to know the cast and uncovering another piece of the story gave returning to the mall some appeal beyond upgrades. Hades showed how much good characters can add to that repeated return home, and the same principle helps here. I wanted to hear what these idiots would say next, even after an unsuccessful trip.
Davy is painfully slow outside the action, which makes sense for a shambling corpse but is hardly ideal for getting around a hub. So you can ride a freaking robot vacuum. It is such a stupid, cool little solution. That willingness to turn a basic inconvenience into another joke captures much of what I enjoyed about the game. Even traveling between conversations has personality.
You are what you eat
Underneath everything sits a familiar roguelite loop. Go down the toilet, move through layers of rooms, beat up enemies, collect rewards, fight bosses, and eventually return to the mall. Upgrade Davy, then head back down. Leveling brings choices of bonuses, while continued play opens more options through persistent progression. There is usually something to improve or unlock before taking another shot at getting further.
The best part of actually fighting is eating enemy cores and taking their forms. Eat a werewolf and you can become one. Harpies, cyclopes, and will-o'-the-wisps offer other transformations, and these changes go well beyond giving Davy a different appearance. You take on the monsters' attacks and abilities, changing how you approach the next fight. It is a great fit for a game this committed to making its hero ridiculous.
The werewolf quickly became a favorite because it felt fast and satisfying. Davy's regular zombie style is slow enough that I often found myself waiting for the opportunity to become something else. Getting that transformation brought the action to life for me. Switching forms gives encounters variety, and finding a monster whose movement and attacks click with you makes a big difference to the enjoyment.
Body attachments add another reason to keep returning. Replacing bits of Davy to improve him is funny in itself, but it also gives your repeated trips a useful purpose. Between those upgrades, new rewards, and the different monster styles, there is a satisfying sense of building this hopeless zombie into something more capable. I liked having several ways to move forward after a disappointing run.
The action needs more bite
Unfortunately, becoming stronger does not resolve how loose the combat can feel. There is no lock-on, and I missed it. Keeping attacks directed at the enemy I wanted to hit felt less reliable than it should, leaving fights with a floaty, sometimes unresponsive quality. That becomes particularly frustrating when the screen looks so energetic and the action in your hands struggles to match it.
Transformations help considerably, but the underlying sluggishness becomes harder to ignore over longer sessions. A run-based game asks you to repeat its combat constantly, so that basic feel matters enormously. Upgrades provide motivation, and a favorite form can make a fight enjoyable, but neither completely removes the irritation. I was happiest playing in shorter stretches, where the next joke or transformation arrived before the repetition started wearing on me.
Still, I kept coming back because I liked this world and the people in it. Stupid Never Dies has a fantastic visual identity, an entertainingly messed-up story, and a transformation system that gives its familiar structure some life. Tighter targeting and a better-feeling basic moveset would make it much easier to recommend. As it stands, I had a good time, and anyone drawn to its punk nonsense should find plenty to enjoy too.
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