We’re not really good at valuing ourselves or each other. Humanity loves easy answers, so when we can’t quantify human value, we use numbers. Views, followers, profits; these are all just numbers that don’t say anything about our worth. Not to us. But do you know who loves numbers? Robots.
Robots judge our worth today. If we’re not valuable in the eyes of a computer, we aren’t valuable at all. If we don’t create content or products that make numbers go up, we’re worthless. And in this world, quantity will get you much further than quality so that content and those products might as well be created through pattern analysis to find what will be most widely accepted and will achieve the largest number. Computers are great at patterns, so get out of the way, human, you’re worthless.
And that’s why Mullet MadJack is here. It takes the trajectory of society to the absolute extreme, then sails past it right into thought-provoking absurdity.
Mullet MadJack (PC [Reviewed])
Developer: Hammer95
Publisher: Hammer95, Epopeia Games
Released: May 15, 2024
MSRP: TBA
The eponymous Mullet MadJack is a “moderator” in a world ruled by robot billionaires known as robillionaires. As a retrohuman, your life is dependent on the dopamine hit you get when someone likes, comments, and subscribes. As such, you have 10 seconds to live, but you can extend it by killing a robot live on stream.
Mr. MadJack is part Duke Nukem, part Brock Samson, and part Mr. Rogers. “Persistence is better than talent!” he’ll scream as you shoot a robot in the dick. I’m not sure it counts as being misanthropic when you’re taking out your boundless rage on robots. Toasters don’t have feelings, though they can own assets.
MadJack’s mad. Also, he has a mullet. The name is very appropriate.
The game itself generally follows the formula set by Post Void. In fact, Mullet MadJack features so many similarities to that game it’s almost tempting to call it a rip-off. Even the way that the protagonist holds their time/health bar in their left hand and the garish neon colors feel as though they were lifted directly from Post Void.
However, for as much as it takes from Post Void, Mullet MadJack runs with the formula. To be fair, Post Void didn’t go all that much farther than the core concept.
So, Mullet MadJack features the same momentum-based corridor dash that Post Void had, but it also has you performing Doom Eternal-style glory kills and kicking robots into environmental hazards like giant fans and exposed wires. There are vending machines you can blast open to sup from their delicious juices. Between each floor, you’re provided a small selection of power-ups to choose from to make your next floor both more fun and survivable.
But it would be hugely amiss to claim that Hammer95 is simply cashing in on someone else’s success. So much of what I love about Mullet MadJack goes beyond its gameplay. From the moment you start the game, you’re blasted with visual overload. Animated cutscenes precede the main menu, showing shots of Mr. MadJack changing gears in his Toro GT in exceedingly lavish details. Every shot contains so much information that I could watch it all day.
This continues into gameplay where you wade through an everlasting stream of explosions, slide down ramps wallpapered with advertisements for fake but familiar products, and jam manga into a robot’s throat. Don’t spend too long looking at the cover of that manga, you only have a few seconds to grab it and ram it down the throat of a nearby robot.
Mullet MadJack is a lot of dumb fun, but it’s all in support of its central themes. It’s a game where you can look it over from a variety of angles, peel back its layers, and find something new in every crevice. At the surface level, it shows a depiction of the internet taken to an absurd but weirdly believable extreme. It’s a playground exclusively for robots while the rest of us go to great lengths to gain their approval.
Advertisers are the only humans of importance. They prop up influencers as people of importance, though they add nothing. The only person raging against the machine still has to play their game.
It’s excessive, it’s noisy, there’s too much going on at once. You just keep trying to get those likes and maybe you’ll eventually get a new pair of shoes.
Yet, despite the heaviness of its themes, the whole thing is presented in a mocking but amiable way. Mr. MadJack is a fun protagonist. He has a penchant for screaming out one-liners, which in less capable hands can be extremely annoying. But the way he mixes his venom and robocidal ravings with vapid affirmations is legitimately charming.
Among the random perks you can choose between levels is the useless option to make Mr. MadJack talk at every opportunity. It adds nothing from a gameplay perspective, but I found it amusing to listen to. Simultaneously sadistic and sympathetic, he’s either a caricature of a vapid internet personality or an eager and enthusiastic friend.
And between the one-liners is a game that is all about flow. If you’re not dashing between glorious robotic destruction, you’re probably on the verge of death. There’s very little time to stop and calculate. At best, you’ll be able to recognize a target and decide how to deal with it. Some enemies are persistent against everything except a headshot, while one can only be defeated by kicking it into an environmental hazard.
Mullet MadJack provides one of the few things that still relaxes me in these days of distraction: flow-state concentration. It doesn’t matter if most stages are just one randomly generated linear corridor, the action that goes on in between is constant and gripping. Shallow, perhaps, but in a way that supports the way it wants you to move.
Occasionally, it does trip over itself. The wall running feels terrible. It’s hard to describe, but it feels less like parkour and more like you’re dragging your face against a wall. On a similar note, the bottomless pits are unwelcome. There’s one particular narrow walkway that I kept falling off of because the kickback of my gun would push me off. The abrupt end to my run always felt like a slap in the face. I would have preferred a way to recover at the expense of time off the clock. Instant death doesn’t fit here.
There are also some issues with menu navigation and English translation. However, the latter problem isn’t that intrusive, and considering that it utilizes the cyberpunk trope of pervasive Japanese text, awkward translation kind of fits.
The flaws of Mullet MadJack are apparent. It’s a bit derivative, somewhat shallow, and sometimes uneven, but between the pulsing synth music, overload of visual information, and hatred of robots, I can readily say it’s my favorite game released this year. The first time I sat down with it was also when I completed it (about 3 hours), but I immediately jumped into endless mode and have been jumping back in occasionally ever since. I need those shoes.
The most important component, however, is that it’s obvious that Hammer95 obviously had immense fun with the project. From the in-game “unboxing” to the lavish animation and art, they went above and beyond with many small details that you might just wind up missing. And even that is incredibly on message. A robot can’t have fun creating a video game.
If you’ve ever had thoughts of throwing your phone away or abandoning the internet to its robotic rulers, Mullet MadJack taps into that frustration. The neon nostalgia of a better era is fertile ground for a game that feels like beating a microwave to death with a crowbar.
[This review is based on a retail build of the game provided by the publisher.]
