We are not good at judging ourselves or others. Humanity loves uncomplicated answers, so when we can’t determine a person’s worth, we exploit numbers. Views, followers, earnings; these are all just numbers that say nothing about our worth. Not to us. But do you know who loves numbers? Robots.
Robots are assessing our value today. If we are not valuable to the computer, we are not valuable at all. If we are not creating content or products that escalate numbers, we are worthless. And in this world, quantity will get you much further than quality, so content and those products can be created just as well by analyzing patterns to find what will be the most accepted and reach the most numbers. Computers are great at pattern recognition, so get out of the way, man, you are worthless.
And that is why Mullet MadJack is here. It takes the trajectory of society to its absolute extreme, and then flies past it into thought-provoking absurdity.
Eponymous Mullet MadJack is a “moderator” in a world run by robotic billionaires known as robillionaires. As a retrohuman, your life depends on the dopamine rush you get when someone likes, comments, and subscribes. As such, you have 10 seconds to live, but you can extend them by killing a robot live on stream.
Mr. MadJack is part Duke Nukem, part Brock Samson, and part Mr. Rogers. “Persistence beats talent!” he’ll shout as you shoot a robot in the penis. I’m not sure if it counts as misanthropy to take your boundless anger out on robots. Toasters have no feelings, though they may have assets.
MadJack is livid. He also has a mullet haircut. The name is very appropriate.
The game itself generally follows the formula established by After the void. In fact, Mullet MadJack has so many similarities to that game that it’s tempting to call it a knockoff. Even the way the protagonist holds the time/health bar in his left hand and the radiant neon colors look like they’ve been lifted straight from After the void.
However, how long will it take from After the void, Mullet MadJack works according to the formula. To be fair, After the void didn’t progress much further than the main concept.
So, Mullet MadJack is characterized by the same shoot-based corridor, which After the void had but also makes you perform Doom Eternal-style glory kills and kicking robots into environmental hazards like giant fans and exposed wires. There are vending machines you can open to drink from their delicious juices. Between each floor, you have a compact selection of upgrades to choose from to make the next floor more fun and survivable.
But it would be a huge mistake to say that Hammer95 is simply cashing in on someone else’s success. So much of what I love about Mullet MadJack goes beyond gameplay. From the moment you start playing, you’re bombarded with visual overload. Animated cutscenes precede the main menu, showing shots of Mr. MadJack shifting gears in his Toro GT in incredibly luxurious detail. Each shot is packed with so much information I could watch it all day.
This continues the gameplay, where you wade through an endless stream of explosions, slide down ramps papered with ads for fraudulent but familiar products, and shove a manga down a robot’s throat. Don’t spend too much time looking at the cover of this manga, you only have a few seconds to grab it and shove it down a nearby robot’s throat.
Mullet MadJack it’s a ton of silly fun, but it all supports its central themes. It’s a game where you can look at it from different angles, peel back its layers, and find something fresh in every crevice. On a surface level, it’s a picture of the internet taken to an absurd but strangely believable extreme. It’s a playground for robots alone, while the rest of us do whatever it takes to earn their approval.
Advertisers are the only people who matter. They keep influential people critical even though they contribute nothing. The only person who gets mad at the machine has to keep playing his game.
It’s over the top, boisterous, too much going on at once. You’re just trying to get those likes and maybe you’ll finally get a fresh pair of shoes.
Despite the weight of the themes, the whole thing is presented in a mocking but cordial manner. Mr. MadJack is a entertaining protagonist. He has a tendency to shout one-liners, which in less capable hands can be incredibly irritating. But the way he mixes his venom and robocidal drivel with worthless affirmations is rightly charming.
Among the random perks you can choose between levels is the useless option to have Mr. MadJack talk at every opportunity. It doesn’t contribute anything from a gameplay perspective, but I found it amusing to listen to. At once sadistic and likable, he’s either a caricature of a uninteresting internet personality or a willing and enthusiastic friend.
And in between those one-liners is a game that’s all about fluidity. If you’re not hurtling between glorious, robotic destruction, you’re probably on the brink of death. There’s very little time to stop and calculate. At best, you’ll be able to recognize your target and decide how to deal with it. Some enemies are resilient against anything but a headshot, while one can only be defeated by kicking an environmental hazard.
Mullet MadJack provides one of the few things that still relaxes me on these days of distraction: concentration in a state of flow. It doesn’t matter that most of the stages are just one randomly generated linear corridor, the action that happens in between is constant and engaging. Shallow, perhaps, but in a way that supports the way it wants you to move.
Sometimes you trip over yourself. The wall running is awful. It’s challenging to describe, but it’s more like dragging your face down a wall than parkour. Likewise, bottomless pits are frowned upon. There’s one particular narrow walkway that I kept falling down because the recoil of my gun kept pushing me back. The abrupt end to a run always felt like a slap in the face. I’d prefer a way to recover at the cost of time off the clock. Instant death doesn’t fit here.
There are also some issues with menu navigation and the English translation. However, the latter issue isn’t all that intrusive, and considering it uses the cyberpunk theme of ubiquitous Japanese text, the awkward translation is fitting.
Defects Mullet MadJack are obvious. It’s a bit derivative, a bit shallow, and occasionally uneven, but between the pulsing synth music, the overload of visual information, and the hatred of robots, I can safely say that this is my favorite game released this year. The first time I sat down with it was when I finished it (about 3 hours), but I immediately jumped into infinite mode and have been coming back to it every now and then since. I need those shoes.
The most critical part, though, is that it’s clear that Hammer95 had a ton of fun making this project. From the in-game “unboxing” to the lavish animations and graphics, they’ve outdone everyone when it comes to a lot of the little details you might not notice. And even that’s incredibly correct. A robot can’t have fun making a video game.
If you’ve ever thought about throwing away your phone or leaving the Internet to its mechanical masters, Mullet MadJack taps into that frustration. The neon nostalgia of a better era is fertile ground for a game that feels like it’s killing a microwave with a crowbar.
