Dungeon Munchies

Dungeon Munchies is a comedic action RPG set in a post-apocalyptic world where players control an undead protagonist who must hunt, cook, and eat bizarre monsters to gain new abilities and survive. Blending side-scrolling platforming, puzzle-solving, and Metroidvania exploration, the game features a quirky narrative mixing lighthearted humor with horror elements, as the hero navigates underground dungeons filled with eccentric characters like banana men and uncovers dark secrets while building inventive meal-based powers.

Dungeon Munchies: Review

Introduction

Imagine rising from your own coffin at your funeral, only to be drafted into a culinary crusade against monstrous abominations in a forsaken underground labyrinth—where the key to survival isn’t just slaying beasts, but devouring them in gourmet fashion. This is the delectably deranged premise of Dungeon Munchies, a side-scrolling action RPG that transforms horror tropes into a feast of black comedy and body-altering buffs. Developed by the tiny Taiwanese studio maJAJa, the game first clawed its way into Early Access in 2019, evolving from a quirky indie experiment into a full release in 2022, with console ports following suit. While it hasn’t achieved blockbuster status, Dungeon Munchies carves a niche as a bold fusion of Delicious in Dungeon-style monster cuisine and Metroidvania exploration, marred by technical rough edges. My thesis: This is a flavorful underdog that tantalizes with innovative ideas but stumbles in execution, earning it a cult following among fans of twisted, food-fueled adventures rather than widespread acclaim.

Development History & Context

maJAJa, a three-person Taiwanese indie studio comprising designer/artist Scofa, programmer Jimbo, and translator Ian (among others), birthed Dungeon Munchies as a passion project blending Eastern cultural influences with global gaming trends. Founded around 2018, the team drew heavy inspiration from the manga Dungeon Meshi (known as Delicious in Dungeon in the West), where characters cook fantastical creatures for sustenance and power—a concept CEO Yi-Yuan Lee explicitly cited in a 2019 Tokyo Game Show interview as the spark that ignited development. Layered atop this is Taiwanese culinary heritage, evident in recipes mimicking street foods like shrimp skewers and fruit-based dishes, infused with folklore beliefs that consuming animal organs absorbs their essence (echoed in the game’s mutation mechanics). The bilingual bonus of Traditional Chinese signage and East Asian urban architecture reflects “creator provincialism,” grounding the post-apocalyptic setting in familiar cultural motifs like apartment complexes turned ruins.

Technologically, the game leverages Unity for its pixel-art visuals and FMOD for audio, allowing a small team to punch above their weight in creating a sprawling, multi-chapter world. Released in Steam Early Access on June 5, 2019, it was positioned as a Metroidvania with visual novel elements, promising iterative updates based on player feedback. The Early Access phase lasted until the full 1.0 launch on July 27, 2022, during which maJAJa squashed bugs, expanded the story to about 30% completion by late 2019 (per Lee), and added chapters focusing on deeper lore and boss fights. Console ports arrived piecemeal: Nintendo Switch in December 2021 (despite still being Early Access on PC at the time), PlayStation 4/5 in 2023, and mobile (Android/iOS) in 2022, handled by publisher Chorus Worldwide Games.

The gaming landscape at release was ripe for indies like this—post-Hollow Knight Metroidvania boom and amid a surge in quirky survival-crafters like Don’t Starve. Yet, as a hyper-niche title blending cooking sims, action RPGs, and horror, it faced stiff competition from polished peers like Dead Cells. Constraints of a micro-team showed: Early Access feedback highlighted clunky platforming and balance issues, which persisted into full release, but the vision of a “chef of iron” protagonist endured, evolving through community-driven updates that added utility-focused foods and unique weapons in Chapter 2.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

At its core, Dungeon Munchies unfolds as a post-apocalyptic black comedy that devolves into visceral body horror, chronicling the zombie protagonist’s resurrection and reluctant quest to aid Simmer, a horned ghost-chef (implied demon) and necromancer extraordinaire. Revived from a mundane office life into an “After the End” world—an Apocalypse How of species extinction where humans fled to space or turned undead—the story kicks off with disorientation: You awaken in a coffin, stumble into a monster-infested underground complex (a derelict S.U.C. facility blending suburban Japan/Taiwan vibes with sci-fi labs), and ally with Simmer’s skeleton “workforce.” Her mission? Hunt magical beasts, craft cookbook recipes from their parts, and propagate her culinary gospel to “preserve culture” amid desolation. It’s a punny setup—”kill, cook, eat, repeat”—framed by Simmer’s Insane Troll Logic equating cooking to necromancy: reanimating the dead into purposeful meals.

The plot spans two chapters (with teases of more), shifting from lighthearted absurdity to grim revelations. Chapter 1 introduces the core loop via Apocalyptic Logs—signs, computer notes, and ads revealing a sentient Sun’s “break-up letter” causing Endless Winter, nutrition cakes as bland Future Food, and the Lord Protector (Grill, Simmer’s ex-roommate and Evil Former Friend) as a Woobie Destroyer of Worlds. Grill, once a dragonborn college student turned goddess to rebellious Plant Mooks, guards a corrupted ecosystem out of isolation-induced madness. Twists abound: The Big Bad is C-04/Putrid, an Assimilator entity from another dimension that triggered humanity’s fall by “mercifully” ending soul-draining human batteries (Industrialized Evil via Living Batteries). Body Horror peaks in scenes like Grill’s melting corpse or banana men warped by Putrid, blending Black Comedy Bursts (e.g., a fruit’s willing sacrifice) with Knight of Cerebus horror.

Characters drive the thematic depth: Simmer, a Jerk with a Heart of Gold, hides vulnerability behind cute-ghost-girl charm and hellfire cooking, her hypocrisy-laced friendship with Grill exploring betrayal and redemption. Skeleton employees (e.g., Emma the lesser necromancer) are Dem Bones copies of dead classmates, adding melancholy. The protagonist, an Almighty Janitor turned Supreme Chef, embodies Food Chain of Evil irony—devouring foes for mutations while Everyone Went to School Together ties underscore lost normalcy. Dialogue sparkles with Hypocritical Humor (Grill’s rule-bending for convenience) and Bilingual Bonuses (a politician named “Diabetes” for sugarcoating), but unskippable cutscenes drag. Themes probe isolation, morality in survival (To Serve Man via human ingredients), and coexistence of magic/science in an Urban Fantasy apocalypse, culminating in a Bittersweet Ending: Escape via Cool Gate Stargate, but at the cost of Earth’s explosion, with survivors (including revived protagonist) heading to a human colony. It’s a Wham Episode-laden tale that evolves from comedy to tragedy, rewarding lore dives but occasionally overwhelming with dense, dialogue-heavy exposition.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Dungeon Munchies thrives on its core loop: Hunt in side-view 2D scrolling levels, harvest parts via Bag of Holding, cook at campsites (guided by Simmer’s unskippable tutorials), eat for Power-Up Food mutations (stomach limited to seven slots), and wield crafted gear. Progression is Equipment-Based: Meals grant buffs like double-jump (fried mosquitoes, later permanent via “forced surgery” adding heel-feet), faster swimming (fins from fish), or attack summons (bees from royal milkshake). Mixing yields synergies—e.g., poison melee from toad legs pairs with Charged Attacks on swords for Damage Over Time stacks—but vomiting to swap feels clunky, and later-game options overwhelm without loadout saving until the end.

Combat is direct-control action RPG fare: Dual-wield melee (e.g., Flaming Sword from shrimp) with ranged (bows with reticle weak points) or magic (mana-regen charges). Innovative twists include Short-Range Long-Range Weapons (shotguns as melee that fire every third swing) and status effects (poison, bleed, burn). Bosses escalate to bullet-hell chaos, demanding pattern mastery—e.g., Mercury One’s final phase or Fruit Medley’s salad frenzy on Executive Chef difficulty. Puzzles incorporate platform elements (grappling hooks, wall-jumps from hip-hands), but flaws abound: Drifty, icy movement leads to unfair deaths; UI is cluttered with mutations obscuring visibility; balance swings from trivial (early insects) to punishing (Zerg Rush killer rabbits or Personal Space Invaders like leeches). Crafting unlocks permanently post-first-use, reducing grind, but parkour sections turn nightmarish with Collision Damage foes. Character progression via XP feels vestigial—mostly food/weapon-driven—while innovations like Fartillery (noxious blasts from Stank Tea) add Punny delight. Overall, it’s a flawed feast: Engaging builds early, but repetitive and unbalanced late, favoring face-tanking over finesse.

World-Building, Art & Sound

The setting is a richly layered post-apocalyptic underground: From veggie farms and shrimp ponds to fleshy Meat Moss-infested labs and Snow Peak Reservations, it evokes a desolated East Asian metropolis—abandoned highways, ad boards with Plagiarism in Fiction campaigns, and VR Plantaverse simulations. Atmosphere masterfully slides the Comedy-Horror scale: Early whimsy (sentient fruits begging to be eaten, Clifford the giant dog boss Shout-Out) yields to grimdark (C-04’s SCP-like assimilation, soul-extraction pods). World-building shines via environmental storytelling—notes on magic-suppressing nutrition cakes, plant rebellions against Grill’s hypocritical guardianship—fostering immersion in a lore of human hubris, where Planimals and When Trees Attack embody uncontrolled evolution.

Visually, pixel art pops with lifelike shading and animations—no lazy resprites—on detailed backdrops that vibe from cute (dialogue sprites’ expressive faces) to grotesque (melting bodies, Phallic Weapon branches). Creator Provincialism infuses Taiwanese flair: Bamboo architecture, fruit-heavy biomes. However, shoddy performance (frame drops on Switch) and uniform level designs (repetitive corridors) dilute impact.

Sound design, via FMOD, elevates: A “slick soundtrack” (per reviews) of chiptune-electronica slaps during bullet-hell bosses, syncing tension with funky beats. Effects are sparse—lacking punchy impacts—but voice acting (intelligible barks from dog-plants) and hellfire sizzles enhance the Chef of Iron motif. Collectively, these forge a bipolar experience: Whimsical horror that hooks via atmosphere, but undermined by technical slop.

Reception & Legacy

Upon Early Access launch, Dungeon Munchies garnered surprise buzz for its unique premise, hitting Steam’s top sellers briefly and earning a 6.4/10 Moby Score from sparse player votes. Full release reviews were mixed: Metacritic’s 54/100 (Nintendo Switch) and OpenCritic’s 56/100 reflect praise for humor/story (Digitally Downloaded: 80/100, calling it “small indie gaming idea”) against slams on platforming/combat (Nintendo Life/Edge: 40/100, “undercooked dish”; Video Chums: 46/100, “clunky and repetitive”). Player sentiment varies—Backloggd’s 3.5/5 lauds concepts but notes execution woes; Steam discussions hype Chapter 2’s twists/bosses (9/10 from fans) while griping bugs. Commercially modest (7 collectors on MobyGames), it found cult traction among Metroidvania/cooking sim fans, with ports boosting accessibility.

Legacy-wise, it influences indies by hybridizing genres—echoing Dungeon Meshi‘s adaptation success—pushing body-horror cuisine (e.g., Carry On Cooking). No massive industry ripple, but maJAJa’s polish (post-EA updates) cements it as a testament to micro-team grit, inspiring Taiwanese devs amid a global indie surge. Evolved reputation: From “raw” Early Access curiosity to endearing oddity, though flaws cap its pantheon potential.

Conclusion

Dungeon Munchies is a tantalizing trifle—a zombie’s odyssey blending culinary whimsy, apocalyptic lore, and mutant mayhem into a Metroidvania morsel that’s equal parts innovative and indigestible. Its narrative depths, cultural charm, and build-crafting highs shine, but clunky mechanics, balance woes, and unpolished ports leave it feeling half-baked. In video game history, it claims a quirky corner: Not a masterpiece like Hollow Knight, but a flavorful footnote for genre-blenders, best savored on sale by horror-comedy aficionados. Verdict: 7/10—worthy of a nibble, if you can stomach the roughage.