Imagine stepping into a lightless, suffocating corridor where carcasses sway from the rafters and you are left utterly defenseless against horrors that are distinctly… inhuman. It begs the question: Am I still playing the same game? Is this truly the hyper-violent, sci-fi spectacle known as Romeo Is a Dead Man?
Watching the credits roll on Grasshopper Manufacture’s latest genre-bending odyssey confirmed a suspicion I’ve held since my initial hands-on: this experience is a relentless engine of subverted expectations. These pivots aren’t confined to the narrative or the third-person gunplay; they extend into the game’s aesthetic DNA, which cycles through an eclectic gallery of animation styles. It is a beautifully disorienting ensemble perfectly suited for the tale of a post-mortal FBI Space Agent who carries his grandfather’s spirit on his jacket while hunting mutants to find a supernatural—and potentially lethal—soulmate.
The core loop of Romeo Is a Dead Man involves carving a path through derelict shopping centers and civic hubs overrun by “rotters”—this world’s flavor of the undead—in a desperate search for Juliet. Even when the search yields more questions than answers, the game meticulously fleshes out Romeo’s history through stylized vignettes. After every visceral sortie, Romeo retreats to the “Last Night,” a 2D-rendered FBI vessel. Here, players can debrief with their commanding officer or indulge in domestic surrealism, interacting with a talking painting, a bipedal feline, or his curry-obsessed mother.
Throughout my 20-hour playthrough, I’ve navigated dimension-hopping puzzles, forged alliances with outcasts, and even cultivated a miniature militia of pet zombies. Yet, the game’s most profound surprise occurred during a detour into a nightmare-inducing asylum.
In a title defined by its action, one expects an abandoned infirmary to be little more than a backdrop for a shooting gallery. Instead, Romeo Is a Dead Man strips away your “DeadGear” arsenal—the grenade launchers and energy pistols—and plunges you into a psychological time loop. Suddenly, the overpowered agent is reduced to a vulnerable human, and the resulting gameplay shift is masterfully executed.
This sequence is a terrifying departure, characterized by stealthy navigation through rooms filled with rusted restraint chairs and tubs that hide unspeakable secrets. The atmosphere is thick with dread, punctuated by jumpscares that feel earned rather than cheap. While the ghosts of former patients don’t physically strike, their sudden, silent appearances behind you are enough to rattle even the most seasoned horror fans.
The time loop mechanic is handled with surgical precision, avoiding the pitfalls of monotony. Each cycle through the asylum’s entrance reveals subtle, unsettling alterations in the geography. Should you find yourself momentarily lost, the abrasive yet helpful voice of Romeo’s grandfather provides just enough guidance to keep the momentum going.
The puzzles in this section are equally grotesque and compelling. You are tasked with manipulating the puppet-like faces of deceased patients to match their living portraits—a macabre ritual that grants them finality. This segment concludes with a visual masterpiece: a cutscene rendered in a scratchy, monochromatic blue-and-white style that perfectly encapsulates the asylum’s decaying grandeur.
For those craving visceral combat, rest assured that the gore returns in full force. Breaking the asylum’s loop restores your weaponry, providing a satisfying catharsis as you clear out the remaining monstrosities. However, the combat is far more than simple gunplay, thanks to the inclusion of “Bastards”—farmable zombie allies. On the “Last Night” spaceship, you can plant seeds in a morbid garden to raise an army of minions capable of poisoning, electrocuting, or detonating your foes. Paired with a versatile array of eight primary weapons, the system offers significant strategic depth.
While the weapon count is modest, the ability to hot-swap between varied archetypes and modify stats via a retro arcade game called “DeadGear Cannonball” keeps the gameplay loop engaging. It strikes a fine balance between complexity and accessibility, allowing for experimentation without drowning the player in menu-heavy weapon mods.
However, the journey isn’t without its flaws. The game’s greatest misstep is “Sub-Space”—a repetitive, neon-soaked cubic dimension that bridges different locales. Accessing this realm involves leaping through floating televisions, and while it sounds aesthetically interesting, the execution is tedious. The puzzles here are rudimentary, and the lack of enemy variety makes these segments feel like a chore rather than a challenge. It is a stark contrast to the inspired asylum sequence.
Enemy design also occasionally slips into the generic, with standard zombies that wouldn’t look out of place in a decade-old shooter. Despite these minor grievances, Romeo Is a Dead Man remains a singularly bizarre and rewarding experience. Its high points are so daringly weird that you’ll eventually find it perfectly rational to have heart-to-heart conversations with a jacket while reshaping the faces of ghosts in a haunted asylum.
Romeo Is a Dead Man is set for release on February 11 for PlayStation 5, Windows PC, and Xbox Series X. This review was conducted on PC using a prerelease build provided by Grasshopper Manufacture Inc.
Source: Polygon
