Pizza Deathlivery Review (PC)

If the world falls to ruin and the mists engulf its cities, a silver lining will emerge, triumphant, powerful, and oddly triangular. In dire times, it won’t be the military that will keep us as one; it’ll be pizzas and, above all, the daring folk who brave the dark to deliver them to ravenous patrons. The world may fall, and humanity may cease to prosper, but, as if to illustrate a beacon of light between mists, takeout will always remain as common as ever, to deliver our salvation; to quench our thirsts and thwart our undying hunger.

If you haven’t already guessed it, we are talking about a post-apocalyptic pizza delivery game. Well, not just any ol’ pizza delivery game, but a supernatural pizza delivery game with seasonal extracts of phenomena and a peppering of ominous flavor. To cut to the base, Pizza Deathlivery isn’t your typical bike-and-serve courier exploit; it’s a ravenous affair that involves precise timing, cunning tactics, and balls the size of the bells on your faithful bicycle. It doesn’t pay you for your efforts, though it does reward you with other benefits—reputation points, more neighborhoods, and above all, a happy boss.

At the epicenter of all of the above is a six-player (and solo) first-person exploit in which fledgling couriers are given the monumental task of navigating the mists, making timely deliveries before the clock strikes midnight, and actively evading the monsters that call the suburban districts a home away from home. It’s a delivery game with a twist; a familiar blueprint with a supernatural topping. It is, if anything, a troublesome endeavor that makes pizza the Holy Grail of the apocalypse. A+ for originality.

30 Minutes or Death

It all begins with a stack of pizzas, each of which have a corresponding address and a vague description on how to get to the delivery point. Alone, or with up to six other couriers, you launch your career into the mist—a randomly generated neighborhood where disturbing monsters lurk and a thick veil of fog obscures your vision. With little to aid you other than a pizza box and a faint glimmer of light, the weight of the apocalypse befalls you and ushers you to carve deeper, not for a tip, but for the sake of keeping the masses satisfied and the corporate bigwig from lashing out at you.

As you progress through the harrowing journey of delivering your pizzas and battling the clock, the game opens up to new business opportunities and rewards. After midnight, provided that you have fulfilled your quota, another diorama unlocks, and the reputation points that you harvested during your route transform into new tools and perks. A relatively simple hook, but one that feels tremendously satisfying to complete — even if it isn’t in thirty minutes or less.

Of course, the general act of delivering pizzas isn’t the burden here; it’s finding your way through the mist and making your way back home before twilight. Suffice it to say that, as far as navigating the world and all its gloomy wonders goes, it’s a tough cookie to crack, especially if you’re banding together with your friends who can’t tell the difference between a cul-de-sac and a wooded allotment. Yet, that isn’t to say that it isn’t fun. Don’t get me wrong, it is a bit of a pain in the backside, but the game, rather gracefully, does make it so that your efforts are rewarded with useful incentives that make you want to step out of your comfort zone to launch another expedition into the abyss.

Pizza Will Deliver Us

If the game was just about delivering pizzas from one anchor point to the next, then frankly, there wouldn’t be much to talk about here. But as luck would have it, the randomly generated cities that the game does bring to the counter each have their own obstacles and means of thwarting your progress, whether it’s in the form of a labyrinthine woodland or a cluster of derelict homes, a blocked passageway or a monster-infested suburb. And I’ll admit, while the planning phase is all rather redundant, and that dumb luck alone carries the brunt of the experience, it’s actually quite entertaining to romp through.

Unfortunately, there a couple of not-so-palatable touches that dampen the overall experience here. For example, the roster is a little on the lighter side for a monster-centric horror. Moreover, the designs aren’t quite as fleshed out as they could be; the fact that you can witness all there is to see and fear after a handful of deliveries, sadly, makes it so that the later stages aren’t quite as unnerving. A small gripe, but one that I can’t help but bring to the table, nonetheless.

From an audiovisual standpoint, Pizza Deathlivery has some great touches, and not to mention a solid foundation for an aesthetically apt post-apocalyptic horror scene. Regrettably, it does harbor a couple of rough edges and some general teething issues that could certainly do with a little extra time in the oven, so to speak. But then, to call the game an undercooked mess with unsavory ingredients just wouldn’t be fair nor true.

Verdict

In the strangest of ways, it’s a breath of fresh air, to see pizza of all things as the primary ingredient in a survival-based horror, and not, for example, kindling for a fire or a bandage for a mortal wound. Don’t get me wrong, the crust is still one and the same as its counterparts. The toppings, on the other hand, are of an entirely different base. And that’s something that I can’t help but love about Pizza Deathlivery — that it meshes the traditional survival tropes with a comical twist that’s as oddly thrilling as it is mindlessly entertaining.

In spite of all its minor faults, Pizza Deathlivery is a great little slice-of-life horror that’s surprisingly fun to gnaw at. It doesn’t always remediate your hunger, nor does it make you feel better about your predicament as a trying courier in a ravenous society. That said, where the game falls short in some of its aspects, it does find various ways to keep you chomping through for a lot longer than the bog-standard thirty minutes or less. And that counts for a great deal, truly.

To close, if it’s a Silent Hill-meets-Easy Delivery Co. formula that tickles your taste buds, then you should definitely consider taking a big ol’ bite out of Pizza Deathlivery the next time you’re feeling the urge to sample a slice of bite-sized supernatural horror.