
Void Bastards is the kind of game that hands you a blunderbuss, a questionable life choice and a mission brief that sounds like it was written by a sarcastic spreadsheet. Developed by Australian studio Blue Manchu and landing on PS4 in May 2020 via Humble Bundle, it mixes FPS action with roguelite loopiness, dressing everything in a glorious comic-book coat of paint. You are one of many rehydrated prisoners, resurrected solely to raid derelict spaceships in the Sargasso Nebula, pilfer parts to fuel your own vessel and, ideally, not die in a particularly grisly way between snack breaks. The game was inspired by classics like System Shock 2 and BioShock, but it's not trying to be a nostalgia clone - instead it leans into dark humour, stylish visuals and bite-sized runs. If you like your sci‑fi with a side of gallows comedy, clever weapon design and the kind of procedural mayhem that makes every run feel like a new bad decision, Void Bastards will whisper sweet nothings into your ear and then immediately try to shoot you in it.
The core loop is gloriously straightforward: from your cramped mothership you pick a target ship on a procedurally generated nebula map, pilot over, board, smash things, gather loot, come back, repeat until you can finally afford whatever cosmic upgrade keeps the lights on. The variety is in the ships themselves - labyrinthine derelicts packed with hazards, annoyingly clever enemies and environmental nastiness that forces you to improvise. Each boarding mission feels like a miniature heist where every corridor could be hiding a vending machine of doom or the kind of enemy that uses you as its new favourite chew toy. Where Void Bastards gets mischievous is in its death-and-resurrection economy. When your current prisoner flunks their job and dies (which they will - often in ways that are both dramatic and hilariously preventable), the game simply rehydrates another convict. You lose ammo, food and fuel but crucially keep weapon upgrades, gadgets and objective progress. That balance makes failure sting less and also play smart: if you die, you're not erased - you're just that franchise's HR problem moving on to the next role. Combat sits comfortably between satisfying and chaotic. Weapons are 'ridiculously designed' in the best way: they have character, punch and weird secondary effects that encourage experimentation. There's a pleasing weight to the guns and a gratifying tactileness to encounters. The enemies are varied and the environmental traps mean you can often solve a problem by thinking sideways - or by setting something on fire and sprinting for the exit while cackling like a villain in a low-budget space opera. The game borrows from the immersive sim playbook: levels reward exploration, alternate routes and clever gadget use. You'll find yourself weighing up whether to Yolo into a supply room for potential loot or take the scenic route to avoid a room-sized meat grinder. The procedural generation keeps runs feeling fresh for a while, but the repetition can creep in; after a dozen successful boardings the novelty of 'oh look, another derelict' wears a little thin. That said, progression systems and upgrades give long-term purpose, and the eventual upgrades feel meaningful enough to keep the needle twitching. If you like challenge with a safety net, Void Bastards nails it. Dying doesn't feel punitive in a soul-crushing way because the meta progression ensures you're still getting better, even if your current character ends up as space dust. The missions are concise enough for a commute or a late-night panic session, but deep enough to let you plan and improvise. The story itself is intentionally thin - it exists more to justify the nastiness than to tug at your heartstrings - but that's fine because this game is about the joy of smart, messy play rather than epic narrative melodrama.
Void Bastards looks like a comic book that somehow learned to move and developed a slight drinking problem - in a good way. The art direction is the game's crown jewel: cel-shaded visuals, bold lines and color palettes that pop make every derelict and corridor feel like a panel from a very violent sci‑fi graphic novel. Reviewers called the style 'gorgeous' and it's easy to see why - the aesthetic turns ordinary corridors into memorable stages and even the lowliest mop bucket manages to be photogenic. On PS4 the game holds up well. You'll notice some rough edges if you stare too long - Unity engine compromises are visible if you're hunting for them - but they rarely detract from the overall presentation. The UI and HUD lean into the theme with cheeky writing and helpful clarity, ensuring you always know what's about to go horribly wrong. Add in Ryan Roth's score, which blends into the atmosphere without ever boring you, and the whole package sounds as good as it looks. The visual style isn't just window dressing either; it directly supports gameplay. Enemy silhouettes read clearly, hazards pop against backgrounds and the exaggerated animations inject a lot of personality into routine actions. The art direction elevates the roguelite loop, making even repetitive runs feel like episodes in a delightfully grimy, animated space anthology.
Void Bastards is a charmingly grim little space caper that thrives on personality. Blue Manchu struck a great balance between punishing moments and a forgiving meta-loop, so die enough times to earn bragging rights rather than grief. Critics praised its comic-book art, dark humour and addictive gameplay, and while the plot is thin and the repetition can sneak up on you, those are small stains on an otherwise very stylish jacket. If you want a game that rewards curious thinking, grants you adorable cosmetic death and arms you with some improbably fun weapons, Void Bastards is worth the ride. It's not trying to be the next big space epic; instead it offers bite-sized runs full of quirky scripting, satisfying combat and a look that refuses to be boring. Recommended for anyone who likes their shooters with personality, their roguelites with progress and their sci‑fi with a smirk. 8/10 - like a confident space pirate who brushes off a plasma burn and asks for another go.