“Anger Foot's one-note action gimmick can't find a second leg to stand on.”
- Immediately satisfying kicking
- High-energy soundtrack
- Speedrunning potential
- Edgy humor falls flat
- One-note action
- Poorly implemented gimmicks
- Hard to find the flow
You may not be able to judge a book by its cover, but you already know just about everything you need to know about Anger Foot from its title alone.
The latest game from Terra Nil developer Free Lives is a fast-paced first-person shooter with a twist: lethal kicking. It’s a one-note gimmick that doesn’t evolve much past level one, but Free Lives isn’t exactly shy about that. The title Anger Foot evokes a certain kind of B-movie, one that lays all its cards on the table before you even need to see a trailer. Think Killer Klowns from Outer Space or Sharknado. Movies like that don’t claim to be great works of art; they’re confident trash.
So when I say that Anger Foot is a bad game, I don’t exactly mean that as an insult. The schlocky shooter does exactly what it sets out to do with bombastic action custom built for adrenaline junkies. What’s disappointing is how much it gets in the way of its own brainlessly fun concept by misunderstanding why similar genre classics like Hotline Miami work so well. Anger Foot should be a trashy game that mainstream players find off-putting, but it reaches that status in all the wrong ways.
Confident trash
Right from its opening moments, it’s clear that Anger Foot isn’t trying to be brainy. I’m in control of some kind of green humanoid with grotesque, gnarled feet. I barely need an incentive to start barreling through rooms full of gang members in a hunt for their leader, who is holding some cool sneakers hostage. Irreverence is the goal here. The town I’m in is called Shit City. I often kill goons while they’re sitting on a toilet, their groins blurred out. One boss is a giant ball sack. It’s juvenile gross-out humor written for edgy teens. Do I think it’s clever or well-done? No. Is it what a game like this calls for? Yes. It probably wouldn’t be doing its job if it didn’t elicit eye rolls.
What’s more important here is the action itself, which is where Anger Foot finds itself falling off balance. After a few minutes of play, I have some immediate praise. Each level tosses players into a series of rooms filled with gang members. The goal is to fight through small, deadly mazes, leaving a trail of bodies in your wake. My right trigger fires whatever weapon I have equipped, and I can toss it at enemies at any time to stun them. That little system allows for some John Wick-esque moments of gun-fu action as I juggle my guns.
What’s more notable is that my left trigger unleashes a lethal kick. It takes down most enemies in one shot and sends them flying across the screen like a rag doll. When I kick down a door, it rockets off the hinges and instantly squashes anyone on the other side. The early levels are immediately satisfying as I run through them like a force of nature, taking down everything in my path while a high-octane electronic soundtrack blares. For a moment, it’s a pure adrenaline shot pumped straight into my veins.
Any time a new gameplay gimmick enters the fold, it’s usually bad news.
The thrill wears off fast. Anger Foot doesn’t do much to evolve that idea throughout its 64 stages. Levels get longer and I get access to more guns, but my six-hour playthrough winds up feeling static. If you’ve played Anger Foot‘s Steam demo, you’ve basically played the entire game. It’s just kicking and shooting with moments of momentum-killing platforming and a handful of frustrating boss fights that occasionally introduce a very sloppy new idea for a mercifully short moment.
Any time a new gameplay gimmick enters the fold, it’s usually bad news. I’m excited about the prospect of getting to wield a flamethrower until it turns the screen into an illegible clutter of flames that kill me in no time. At some point, I walk into a room and start getting teleported around the screen with no warning. It’s not until a dozen or so levels later that I realize that some enemies have toilet plungers that yank me toward them like a grappling hook. That happens so abruptly that it feels more like a lagged out computer playing catchup. A meme-ready gameplay hook can only stand on one foot so long; without a second to plant it, Anger Foot trips over itself fast.
Missing the appeal
The more I play, the more frustrated I become. An unforgiving damage system means I’m dying and restarting levels constantly. I’m used to that in games like this. I adore Hotline Miami, a game that this is clearly indebted too. It’s about dying and trying again as many times as it takes. It’s not very forgiving about that either; instant deaths, sometimes unpredictable physics, and levels that often feel too long make even some of the earliest levels a chore to get through.
The more damning issue is what feels like a broader design misunderstanding. The appeal of action games cut in this style isn’t just fast-paced violence. Hotline Miami is as much a puzzle game as it is an action one. When players enter a level, they see everything happening in it from a top-down perspective. There are two phases to gameplay from there: planning and execution. Half of the game happens in the entryway of each level as I build a mental route through the level. It’s a cerebral challenge first. Once I feel confident, then I kick down that first door and carry out my rampage with lightning-fast precision. There’s tension and then release.
By contrast, Anger Foot is all execution. Every time I kick down a new door, I have no idea what’s going to be behind it. Usually, the answer is a bunch of enemies who can shoot me dead in one second flat. I have no way to prepare for that; I just have to act on split-second instincts. That would be fine if Anger Foot weren’t also intent on punishing players for operating at the pace it goads them into playing at. Several rooms are designed as clear traps for players who rush in unprepared. Sometimes I bust through a door to have two enemies on either side instantly jump me. Other times, an enemy with a massive shield barrels straight into me. My instincts go haywire. Move too slow, I’m dead. Go too fast, I’m also dead.
That cuts into the game’s biggest selling point: its speed. I have no doubt that Anger Foot is going to be a killer addition to the speedrunning community as those who learn to master it perfect its levels. There’s some especially strong potential thanks to unlockable shoes that grant players specific powers, like storing up a boost that’s sure to crack levels wide open. I struggled to find that same satisfaction myself as Anger Foot constantly failed to catch me during its trust fall moments. Sometimes I’d kick an enemy with an exploding head down a hallway, as was telegraphed, only to have an exploding barrel bounce back and kill me. Accidents like that wouldn’t happen consistently, making it hard to gauge when it was safe to take a level’s clearly set-up bait.
The most fun I had with Anger Foot was an accident. One night, I got frustrated with a late-game boss and turned on invincibility from the settings menu just to be done with it. I shut the game down and went to bed. When I played the next level the following morning, I suddenly found that I was entirely in the groove as I gracefully plowed through a long level like a bloody ballerina. Had I just been letting my frustration get the best of me? Did I just need to take a step back and return with a clear perspective? No. I just forgot to turn invincibility back off, allowing me to see how exciting Anger Foot is supposed to be when not wrestling with its flaws.
You can’t be counter-culture if the culture is in your corner.
Like a B-movie, Anger Foot is not meant to hold up to scrutiny. The more you dissect it, the more its messy craftsmanship falls apart. It’s meant to be taken as brainless fun, though it trips itself in too many ways en route to that goal. In some way, that’s fitting. Schlocky media isn’t meant to be good in critical terms; it’s supposed to be a total mess that’s sub-junk food in quality. I spent my youth watching movies like Chupacabra Terror. I knew they were complete trash, but that was the appeal. I imagine some teen will have the same experience with Anger Foot, fondly remembering their time in Shit City as a youthful guilty pleasure.
I think I’d be doing Anger Foot a disservice if I gave it a glowing review here. You can’t be counter-culture if the culture is in your corner. I can’t stand it, and that’s probably the best endorsement its intended audience could hear.
Anger Foot was tested on PC and Steam Deck OLED.
