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20 October 2026

Stupid Never Dies review: a disappointing entry in the 2026 game lineup

An in‑depth look at Stupid Never Dies reveals a bright visual style hampered by clunky combat, a troubling romance plot, and a rogue‑lite structure that quickly feels stale.

Stupid Never Dies review: a disappointing entry in the 2026 game lineup

GPTRACK50, a studio launched by former Capcom producer Hiroyuki Kobayashi, released its first title Stupid Never Dies on October 21, 2026 for PC and PS5. The game promises a neon-lit, pop-punk take on the zombie genre, pairing a mall-bound hub with a rogue-lite progression system. After more than 25 hours of play, the experience feels more like a nostalgic throwback than a fresh evolution, with several core systems failing to deliver the excitement their premise suggests.

While the visual collage of magazine cut-outs, stickers and marker-scratched UI gives the title a distinct personality, the underlying mechanics quickly betray a lack of polish. Below we break down the three pillars that shape the

Combat and rogue-lite loop

The combat engine advertises fast, frantic hack-and-slash action, but in practice it feels sluggish and unresponsive. Players control Davy, a low-grade zombie, whose basic attacks are hampered by a heavy walk cycle. The only way to regain speed is through a temporary boost called “Style Eat,” triggered by consuming mysterious eggs that grant brief power spikes. Although these moments provide a satisfying burst, they are too infrequent to compensate for the

Progression follows a typical rogue-lite formula: each run sends Davy deeper into subterranean “sub-layers,” where he battles a rotating cast of were-wolves, vampires, and other monster types. Loot is gathered via the Body Hack system, allowing players to equip gear on each limb. Unfortunately, the randomization of stat upgrades often yields under-powered items, meaning players may waste valuable scrap on enhancements that do not suit their playstyle.

Level design contributes to the repetitiveness. The mall hub is functional, but the procedural floors beyond it consist of only two distinct biomes for a long stretch, and new environments that eventually appear feel like reskinned versions of earlier ones. The lack of meaningful variety makes each subsequent run feel like a rehash of the previous attempt.

Story, characters, and thematic missteps

The narrative premise attempts to blend romance comedy with post-apocalyptic horror. Davy, an undead “peon,” seeks to rescue Julia, a human girl frozen in a mall freezer, in hopes of winning her love. The plot mirrors the 2013 film Warm Bodies but pushes the concept into uncomfortable territory by employing the outdated trope of “fridging”—the practice of using a female character’s victimhood as a catalyst for a male protagonist’s growth. This choice feels tone-deaf in a modern cultural context.

Julia’s presence is limited to static images, social-media scrolls, and occasional voice diaries. Players can offer gifts to her frozen body to fill a heart meter, unlocking skill points and a grotesque portrait of Davy glued into a photo frame. While the developers may have aimed for a darkly comedic vibe, the execution reads as exploitative rather than endearing, reducing the heroine to a plot device instead of a fully realized character.

Supporting cast members—Dr. Frank, the self-styled genius, his Chihuahua-like assistant Acelino, the burger-joint operator Bessie, and the forgetful gargoyle Goyle—provide occasional comic relief but lack depth. Their dialogue rarely evolves, and their motivations remain static, making them feel more like decorative shopkeepers than integral narrative drivers.

Visual identity and audio flavor

Where Stupid Never Dies truly shines is in its aesthetic ambition. The game embraces a 2000s pop-punk palette: neon pinks, electric blues, and glitchy collage art dominate every menu screen, cutscene, and collectible. The UI mimics ripped-from-magazine collages, complete with marker-pen scribbles, giving the project a DIY charm reminiscent of early indie titles.

The soundtrack leans heavily on upbeat pop-punk tracks, including an opening theme that even features a playable music video from the main menu. These audio choices reinforce the youthful, rebellious tone the developers pursued, and they succeed in momentarily masking the repetitive gameplay loop.

Despite the strong visual and auditory branding, style cannot compensate for the core shortcomings. The game’s identity feels like a veneer slapped over an otherwise thin skeleton, and once the novelty of the collage aesthetic fades, players are left confronting the same stale combat and problematic story beats.

Fans of fast zombie action may find brief enjoyment, yet the title is unlikely to endure beyond its initial shock value.

Author

Marcus Chen

Marcus Chen writes about consumer tech the way a friend who actually opened the device would describe it. Hardware-first, hype-skeptical, and fluent in benchmark numbers.