Retro City Rampage DX

“A loving, relentlessly referential open-world parody whose joke density and side-content suite shine, marred only by unmarked sprees and a few luck-dependent challenges.”

Theftropolis, 1985: a henchman for a Joker pastiche botches a bank heist, and a Doc Brown figure crashes his DeLorean-style time booth into the fallout. Retro City Rampage DX is wall-to-wall pop-culture reference, essentially the whole point of the game, and the density surprises within the first ten minutes: Biffman, Butnik, Shredder, the Goo Busters, a school-principal fight straight out of a beat-‘em-up. The tone is unapologetically crass, from endless innuendo gags to funeral-home ghoul deliveries, and it leans into gaming satire too, with a hint book for the sucker generation and a lockout parody of 1990s moral-panic rhetoric. The send-up never reads as tired because the writing commits fully to the joke. Scrooge McDuck vault dives, Frogger crossings and Sonic special stages share a city block.

Underneath the gags sits a top-down GTA-clone wearing eight distinct genres’ clothing: driving rampage, twin-stick shooters, Bionic Commando vertical levels, Ninja Gaiden-style castle platforming, an OutRun bike-chase finale and a Battletoads car sequence. The main quest is a nine-machine-parts fetch chain dressed as roughly sixty missions, with gear-and-gadget progression (speed shoes, skateboards, weapons, vehicles) unlocking along the way. The finale grants the light-gun zapper and Future Shades fast-forward city mode, a reward that rewires the whole map for traversal. Unlockable playable villains (Sweat Bomber, Butnik, Mr Destructoid) add free-roam variety after the credits. The DX version’s visual-filter modes give the joke legroom to be a genuinely playable tribute.

Side content is the real runtime: 14 Slaughter Spree challenges plus 23 second-rate sprees, deep enough to occupy most of a six-hour session and chased to near-100% here. The completionist chase is the game’s second campaign, and the score-attack design keeps each spree short enough to retry. The friction is structural: sprees never record which ones are completed, so optional content becomes guesswork, with real time spent triangulating which of the 37 have been done. It is the single recurring grievance, raised at least five separate times, and the most fixable flaw in the package. A simple marker would have solved it entirely.

Several challenge types are luck-dependent on pedestrian spawns, and the Molotov and fire-weapon sprees are pure misery, frame-tight timing wrapped in RNG. The Explosion Man precision challenge and Sweat Bomber’s variant earn their reputation the hard way, worse than memory suggests. These spikes sit oddly beside the game’s otherwise generous difficulty curve, which never demands mastery from the main quest. The doc-choc time-machine frame story is a not-so-subtle it-was-all-a-dream gag clocked instantly, a beat borrowed so transparently it functions as one more reference. None of it dents the core loop’s appeal.

The open world unlocks fully after the prologue’s Temple-of-Heroes-equivalent, pivoting the structure into choose-your-own-adventure mayhem. The Biffman tail-and-coffee mission and the Explosion Man homage mid-game draw genuine joy even as their challenge variants draw pain. Music from the Shantae-adjacent studio is genuinely good throughout, a cut above pastiche. The pacing holds across the main quest without dragging, and the ~60 missions disguise their fetch-chain spine well. Completion minus a few uncared-for character unlocks lands at 89% in about six hours.

As a reference museum it has no peer: Contra prisons, Pac-Man ghost-scooping, Super Mario 3 memory minigames and a triple-trial sword quest all in one package. The self-awareness about its own industry gives the nostalgia a satirical edge that pure tribute would lack. It is a fun, funny throwback whose only real crime is not telling the player what has already been done. For a 1980s open-world parody, the craft behind the jokes is real.

Overall, a loving, relentlessly referential open-world parody whose joke density and deep side-content suite shine, wearing eight genres’ clothing across a breezy six-hour campaign. The unmarked sprees and a few luck-dependent fire-weapon challenges are genuine annoyances, yet the craft behind the references makes the throwback worth finishing anyway.