Death Burger Review (PC)

I can just about stomach the idea of having to chomp through carnivorous meat patties and their sentient condiments, but I draw the line at the thought of bearing arms with a potato-based replica of Excalibur. That, unsurprisingly, is where things get a little weird. But that’s sort of what Death Burger is: a flame-grilled banquet of kookiness and illogical ideas. I suppose to some extent it’s a bit like a crossbreed of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and some oddball first-person shooter that centers its attention around ravenous food and pathological behavior. Oh, and did I forget to mention that it’s also a horror game? How’s that for whetting your appetite?

Without trying to burst your bubble, I will say this: Death Burger is not—I repeat not, so much of a horror game as it is a ludicrous attempt to instill humor into a quirky restaurant simulation gig. It has spouts of drama, I suppose, though these moments often come in the form of ravenous burgers fleeting towards you. Remove that from the deep fat fryer, however, and you’ve essentially got a weird melee-based action-adventure with a few random recipes—potato weaponry, generic corridor hopping, and an ability that allows the player to manipulate items with an appetizing tool that’s commonly referred to as, well, Moos. But more on that later.

Death Burger sits at just under two hours in length, making it a relatively short game with only a handful of things there for you to do. Story-wise, eh — it’s a little out there, I’ll admit. And as far as gameplay goes, let’s just say that it’s about as ravishingly wild as one might imagine for a game about spud-studded swords. It isn’t great, but it lines the stomach.

“Here or to Go?”

Death Burger features one of those sorts of oddball tales—a story that fosters a seemingly harmless premise on the exterior, but keeps a sneaky underling of absurd and illogical ideas on the inside.

To put you in the picture, Death Burger follows a protagonist who, in an effort to bathe in their adolescent joy, ventures out to a popular local burger joint to satisfy their need for something meaty and carb loaded. Upon arriving at said joint, however, the protagonist discovers that the meat is not only sentient, but is running rampant under the influence of an evil Emperor’s tyrannical regime. Armed with a box of weaponized fries that, for some apparent reason, transforms into a saber of all things, the fledgling hero makes an attempt to carve deep into the facility and connect the dots, as well as learn about their own involvement with the world and its greasy wonders.

Death Burger doesn’t boast the best storyline in the world, nor does it present mouth-watering character development or any form of intriguing plot twists, for that matter. It’s all rather simple: a protagonist explores the underbelly of a burger joint, and boggle-eyed buns run rampant under the guidance of a villainous tyrant. But that isn’t what drives this experience; it’s the barbecued melee combat and peculiar puzzles, weirdly.

Would You Like Fries With That?

The game adopts a few familiar flavors that we have seen a whole bunch of times in the past. There’s a slither of combat—a segment that mostly consists of the all-powerful potato saber hacking at oversized burger bites, as well as the usual parrying and dodging—and a series of puzzles, the latter of which requires the power of the “Moos” to both pull and lift certain objects to complete various environmental tasks. Think Poppy Playtime and the Grab Pack, and water it down with a more pulpy potato feel, and you’ll have a rough idea of what we’re talking about. It isn’t a new thing, but at least it manages to capitalize on familiar fodder and aspects that we know are formidable and palatable. That counts for a lot, I think.

The ambiance here is, well, it’s passable. While the game doesn’t capture the beating heart of a terrifying world, or even the set pieces that make up an intricate design, it does provide a lot of interesting corridors and traversable environments to sink your teeth into. It’s dark, it’s hollow, and above all, it’s fitting for a game that’s literally about ravenous burgers. Is that enough to convince you to plug into it? Maybe.

On a side note, Death Burger isn’t marred by any majorly notable issues or game-breaking technical flaws. Perhaps I was one of the lucky ones, I’m not sure. Even still, the fact that I was more or less able to breeze through the two-hour feast and not bump into a seventh circle of bad-tasting baloney was a real treat. I’ll happily allocate extra points just for that.

Verdict

Death Burger waxes weirdness with woe in a highly unorthodox first-person potato thriller that, while not as meaty or as filling as your traditional action-addled horror, has all of the ingredients to satisfy your need for something peculiarly sweet. It isn’t a full-fledged horror, so that’s a bit of a stain on the overall picture — but it does feature some tender moments with a lot of tongue-in-cheek full frontal combat sequences and cat-and-mouse action. Are these two things enough to warrant the price of admission? Yes and no. Sadly, it isn’t the longest game on the counter, and so, if you’re looking to wolf down a jumbo-sized campaign that’s rife with fascinating twists and turns, then you might be in for a shock with how little this appetizer actually brings to the table. But that isn’t to say that its filling isn’t of a poor quality or taste.

Taking a big ol’ bite out of Death Burger won’t be the best thing you’ll ever do, but it’ll certainly fill a hole—a small pit that yearns only to digest the strangest of concepts. It won’t leave you with an undying desire to come back for seconds, nor will it line your stomach with the hopes of being able to feast on a sequel. That said, if you, like us, share an acquired taste for simply ingesting things for the sake of broadening the palate and sweetening the pot, then Death Burger should get the job done.