Amid all the madness, the game does tackle serious issues. While the scenarios are off-the-wall, they often act as a mirror to Malcolm’s (and by extension, the player’s) warped sense of morality. You won’t find any heavy-handed lectures here, just moments where Malcolm’s behaviour, though comically out of line, reveals uncomfortable truths. Take, for instance, when Malcolm vulgarly insults a random character blocking his path, only to be met with a calm, rational response that makes him (and you) realise just how wrong he is. It’s a surprisingly subtle lesson on empathy, delivered through the most unexpected of channels.

The game isn’t afraid to take a swing at capitalism, either. The fruit and/or vegetable vendor you meet early on is practically the embodiment of the capitalist machine, revealing a biting, yet smart commentary on today’s business world. And then there’s the painter and the tailor, both of whom have been swallowed whole by societal expectations. The painter, in particular, is sadly trapped in the cycle of painting boring portraits for wealthy patrons rather than pursuing his creative vision. His struggle to survive in a world that rewards mediocrity over true originality feels all too real. Death of the Reprobate doesn’t just want you to laugh, but also pause and think about the forces that shape our lives.

One of the most pleasantly surprising moments comes with Malcolm himself. Though he’s all about cruelty and manipulation, he draws a hard line when it comes to harming women and children. Despite the egregious acts that happened in the original era of these paintings, it’s a deliberate contrast to the grim reality we still live in, where violence against women and children is disturbingly common and often excused. The game’s dark humour highlights a real-world issue in a way that is as thought-provoking as it is hysterical.

What begins as a simple quest to fulfil a father’s dying wish quickly turns into a wild, unpredictable ride. Through all the chaos and chuckles, the story certainly doesn’t shy away from exploring some heavy themes. The peculiar scenarios and outrageous dialogue offer an entry point for reflection on our world without ever losing the zany energy that makes it so fun. It’s a perfect dash of sharp commentary and stupidity.

That said, like most point-and-click games, it’s not always entirely clear what you’re supposed to do. Early on, you’ll probably find yourself scratching your head, unsure how to use an item or what objective to tackle next. You’ll run into moments where you’re stuck, especially with items that aren’t relevant until much later. While that’s typical for the genre, the game’s strangeness sometimes makes it harder to figure out what your next step is.

Take, for example, a guessing game to get a key item. Complicated at first, and there’s an achievement tied to guessing correctly. Eventually, you find out that the whole thing is a complete farce and the numbers are random. It’s funny, sure, but a little frustrating, especially if you don’t randomly guess right and miss out on the achievement. There was another moment when an item wasn’t picked up and completely missed, forcing me to reload the game to an earlier point. It never explicitly says that I missed the item so only after some consideration I discovered my fault. Not ideal.

Luckily, the game doesn’t leave you completely stranded. A helpful character is available to guide you through each of the seven deeds you need to complete, and a handy tooltip highlights things you can interact with. It’s a great way to get back on track without feeling like you’re cheating and you don’t get penalised for using it.

Each solved puzzle is a little punchline to a bigger joke. They may not be as challenging as some fans expect, but the game’s humour and timing make every solution feel like a small victory in a larger comedic adventure.

The only complaint would be towards the end of the adventure when certain items are set on fire. Some of the scenes and artwork look oddly askew with what seems like it could be a visual glitch. The presentation here is jarring enough to pull you out of the final dash and detract from a joyous section of the game.

The visuals are elevated by a soundtrack composed by Eduardo Antonello, featuring authentic medieval and Renaissance instruments. The classical music ebbs and flows between rooms, grounding the game while adding a layer to its zany charm. Antonello’s score creates an immersive atmosphere that feels almost reverent… until a swearing baby or annoyed vendor pulls you right back into Richardson’s mayhem. This combination of artistry and farce makes for a rare, captivating experience, mixing high art with outlandish tales.