Earth Must Die

I went into Earth Must Die expecting a cheeky indie comedy with some nostalgic point-and-click bones — what I got was a very British, very loud, and very clever adventure that knows how to deliver a gag and a puzzle in the same breath. Size Five Games leans hard into absurdity: you play VValak Lizardtongue, a ridiculous alien despot with a trusty nursing bot and a thirst for revenge, and the script is consistently bawdy and clever. The voice cast — a small constellation of UK comedy names — elevates every line and turns what could have been a comfy throwback into something that feels alive and modern. If you grew up on LucasArts or enjoy the darker, absurd comedy of shows like Taskmaster or Rick and Morty, this one will likely hit your funny bone hard.

Warlord's Point-and-Click Rampage

The core loop of Earth Must Die is lovingly old-school: you poke, you click, you talk, and you make a lot of terrible decisions as VValak while watching the consequences spiral into increasingly silly places. Movement and interaction are modernised for comfort — there's controller support and direct character movement rather than a clunky cursor-only interface, which makes play on a Steam Deck pleasantly immediate and on a PC mouse delightfully precise. Puzzles mostly lean on internal logic and gag-based solutions rather than obtuse inventory-scrap hunts, so even when I groaned at a dumb joke I rarely groaned at a bad puzzle design. Conversations are a major part of the gameplay loop, with branching dialogue options that reward curiosity and spur more jokes, and the Milky sidekick keeps notes so you don't lose track of the lunacy. Expect a 8–12 hour run if you take your time reading every snarky entry in the Milkipedia and poking every suspiciously animated prop.

When British Wit Steals the Show

What makes Earth Must Die stand out is not a single gimmick but the way comedy, writing and puzzles are stitched together: the humour isn't tacked on, it informs solutions, character reactions and even the way backgrounds change. The voice acting is genuinely star-quality — every line lands like it was paced for radio — and that timing turns throwaway lines into memorable beats that I found repeating to friends. There are moments that feel like a mash-up of LucasArts-era cleverness, Telltale dialogue rhythm and a late-night Channel 4 sketch, which gives the game a flavour both familiar and fresh. The script sometimes goes bluntly crude, and if you're sensitive to that sort of humour it will grate, but it also produces laugh-out-loud payoffs that justify the occasional lowbrow detour. Several reviewers mentioned Hitchhiker's-style babel-fish puzzles and other classic references; these exist but sit comfortably in the game's own internal logic.

Cartoons, Voices and Smooth Performance

Visually the game is a treat — chunky, high-framerate 2D animation that often reminded me of a really polished late-90s cartoon but with present-day polish; character rigs and sight-gags are well-judged and the background animation keeps scenes lively. The soundtrack and sound design are subtle workhorses, punctuating jokes without stealing stage time from the cast, and load times and performance were spotless on my Windows test rig and corroborated by many Steam Deck users in reviews. Accessibility choices are sensible: controller-friendly movement, clear objectives via the Milky notes, and an interface that keeps inventory and dialogue readable without clutter. My only ongoing niggle was that a couple of puzzle solutions felt too straightforward once you saw them, which reduced the triumph of discovery on occasion, but that’s offset by so many genuine laugh-out-loud moments and clever set-pieces that I forgave the odd easy-payoff.

Earth Must Die is a charming, aggressively funny point-and-click adventure that wears its influences proudly while carving out its own, very smudged niche. I had more than a few belly laughs, admired the animation, and appreciated the solid quality-of-life touches that modernise the genre without stripping away the classic feel. Buy it if you like British comedy, strong voice work and narrative-first adventures; skip or demo it if crude humour or lighter puzzle challenges bother you.