Duckumentary

Duckumentary is a 2D side-scrolling action-platformer with RPG elements, set in a whimsical fantasy world. Developed by Alpheratz and released in 2019 for Windows and Android, the game blends comedy and adventure as players navigate through a quirky, duck-themed universe. With its lighthearted narrative and platforming challenges, Duckumentary offers a playful yet engaging experience for fans of indie action games.

Duckumentary: A Quirky, Overlooked Gem in the Pantheon of Indie Platformers

Introduction: The Unlikely Hero’s Journey of a Doomed Poultry

In the vast, often homogenizing landscape of indie platformers, Duckumentary (2019) emerges as a bizarre, darkly comedic, and surprisingly poignant anomaly. Developed by the obscure studio Alpheratz and released with minimal fanfare, the game is a side-scrolling action-platformer that blends Metal Slug-esque run-and-gun mechanics with a narrative so absurdly bleak it borders on existential satire. At its core, Duckumentary is a game about rebellion—specifically, the rebellion of a sentient chicken (and later, other avian comrades) against the industrial meat complex. It’s a premise that oscillates between the ridiculous and the profoundly unsettling, forcing players to confront the grim reality of factory farming while simultaneously dodging chef’s knives and deep fryers.

Yet, despite its niche appeal and lack of mainstream recognition, Duckumentary deserves a place in the annals of indie game history. It is a game that embraces its own weirdness, refusing to conform to the polished, market-driven aesthetics of its contemporaries. Instead, it offers a raw, unfiltered experience that is as much a commentary on consumer culture as it is a love letter to the chaotic, punishing platformers of the 16-bit era. This review will dissect Duckumentary in exhaustive detail, exploring its development, narrative depth, gameplay mechanics, artistic choices, and the curious silence that has surrounded it since its release.

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Development History & Context: The Birth of a Feathered Revolution

The Studio Behind the Slaughterhouse: Alpheratz

Alpheratz is a name that barely registers in the broader gaming industry. A small, independent studio with no prior notable releases, the team behind Duckumentary operated in near-total obscurity. The game’s Steam page lists no credits, and MobyGames’ entry for the title remains skeletal, with no developer interviews or postmortems available. This anonymity is both a curse and a blessing: while it has contributed to the game’s lack of visibility, it has also allowed Duckumentary to exist as a pure, uncompromised artistic statement, unburdened by the expectations of a fanbase or the demands of a publisher.

What little can be gleaned about Alpheratz suggests a team deeply influenced by classic arcade and console platformers, particularly those with a punk or surrealist edge. The game’s use of GameMaker—a tool often associated with small-scale, experimental projects—hints at a development process that was likely iterative, scrappy, and driven by passion rather than commercial ambition. The inclusion of Firebase as middleware suggests an interest in online functionality, though Duckumentary itself is a single-player experience, leaving this aspect of its development something of a mystery.

The Gaming Landscape of 2019: A Crowded Coop

Duckumentary launched on March 22, 2019, a year that was, by any measure, a golden age for indie games. Titles like Hollow Knight, Celeste, and Dead Cells had already redefined expectations for the genre, while Disco Elysium, Outer Wilds, and Untitled Goose Game were poised to dominate critical conversations. In this environment, a game about a chicken escaping a slaughterhouse was always going to struggle for attention. The indie market had become saturated with meticulously crafted, emotionally resonant experiences, and Duckumentary’s deliberately crude aesthetic and nihilistic tone made it an outlier.

Yet, this was also a year where games like Katana Zero and My Friend Pedro proved that hyper-stylized, fast-paced action could still find an audience. Duckumentary’s blend of platforming and light RPG elements (such as unlockable characters and stamina management) positioned it somewhere between these titles and the roguelike platformers that were gaining traction. Unfortunately, without the backing of a major publisher or the viral appeal of a game like Untitled Goose Game, Duckumentary was doomed to obscurity from the start.

Technological Constraints and Creative Workarounds

The game’s 2D scrolling perspective and side-view presentation are reminiscent of Contra or Gunstar Heroes, but its visual design is far more rudimentary. The sprites are simple, the animations minimal, and the environments functional rather than lavish. This aesthetic choice could be interpreted as a deliberate rejection of the pixel-art perfectionism that dominated indie games at the time, or it could simply be a result of the team’s limited resources. Either way, the game’s visuals serve its tone: the world of Duckumentary is ugly, oppressive, and deliberately unglamorous.

The use of GameMaker also imposed certain limitations on the game’s scope. While the engine is capable of producing complex experiences (as seen in Undertale or Hyper Light Drifter), Duckumentary’s design is relatively straightforward, focusing on tight, linear levels with occasional branching paths. The game’s lack of polish in areas like hit detection and enemy AI can be frustrating, but these flaws also contribute to its charm, evoking the janky, unpredictable platformers of the early ‘90s.

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Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive: A Clucking Tragedy

Plot Summary: From Farm to Freedom (or Fryer)

Duckumentary’s story is deceptively simple. The game opens with a chicken—our unnamed protagonist—standing on the precipice of death, literally moments away from being turned into fried chicken. In a moment of existential despair, the chicken reflects on the glory of its ancestors, who were once revered as warriors, their clucks echoing like battle cries. Now, chickens are nothing more than commodities, destined for consumption. The game’s premise is established in its Steam description:

“Today, facing the fate of a fried chicken, a chicken cries out, ‘I can’t die here like this…!’ In the past, human ancestors adored and appreciated the essence of a chicken. Ah, the glorious cluck was like a warrior rushing out for battle, and the feathers glistened like a lion’s mane. But that’s an old story. Now, chickens are only left with two options. Do they succumb to man and become a fried chicken? Or run away and survive?”

From there, the player embarks on a violent escape through a series of nightmarish locales: a chicken farm, a kitchen, a factory, and a restaurant. Along the way, the protagonist can consume corn to restore stamina, unlock new playable birds (each with unique abilities), and battle grotesque bosses that embody the horrors of industrial food production. The game’s tone is unrelentingly bleak, with the only moments of levity coming from the absurdity of its premise.

Themes: Capitalism, Consumption, and the Illusion of Free Will

At its heart, Duckumentary is a scathing critique of capitalism and the dehumanizing (or, in this case, de-avianizing) effects of industrialization. The game’s world is a dystopian hellscape where animals are stripped of their agency and reduced to mere products. The player’s journey is one of rebellion, but the game constantly undermines the idea of true freedom. Even as the chicken fights for survival, the game’s mechanics reinforce the futility of its struggle:

• Stamina and Consumption: The chicken must eat corn to regain stamina, a mechanic that mirrors the way industrial farming turns living beings into fuel for a system that ultimately consumes them.
• Unlockable Characters: The other birds the player can unlock are often depicted as former comrades or rivals, reinforcing the idea that even in rebellion, the chicken is still operating within the confines of a system that pits individuals against one another.
• Boss Fights: The game’s bosses are grotesque representations of human greed and industrial efficiency. One early boss, for example, is a giant chef wielding a cleaver, while later enemies include mechanized slaughterhouse equipment.

The game’s narrative also plays with the idea of historical mythmaking. The opening text romanticizes the chicken’s ancestors as noble warriors, a clear parallel to the way human societies mythologize their own pasts to justify present-day exploitation. The chicken’s struggle is not just physical but ideological: it must confront the reality that its ancestors’ glory is a fabrication, and that its own existence is defined by oppression.

Dialogue and Tone: Dark Comedy in a Slaughterhouse

Duckumentary’s writing is sparse but effective, relying on dark humor and surrealism to convey its themes. The game’s Steam description is a masterclass in tonal whiplash, shifting from poetic lamentation (“the feathers glistened like a lion’s mane”) to brutal pragmatism (“Dead birds become food! Let’s make a lot of dishes out of the meat!”). This juxtaposition is key to the game’s identity: it is simultaneously a farce and a tragedy, a game that asks players to laugh at the absurdity of its premise while also grappling with its grim implications.

The lack of in-game dialogue (beyond the occasional text prompt) forces the player to infer meaning from the game’s mechanics and visuals. The chickens’ silence is itself a commentary on their oppression—they are voiceless in a world that sees them only as food. The game’s few textual interludes are often laced with irony, such as the description of unlockable characters, which frame their abilities in terms of their culinary value (e.g., “This bird’s speed makes it perfect for quick-fry recipes!”).

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Gameplay Mechanics & Systems: A Brutal, Unforgiving Escape

Core Gameplay Loop: Run, Jump, Shoot, Survive

Duckumentary is, at its core, a linear action-platformer with light RPG elements. The player controls a chicken (or one of several unlockable avian allies) as they navigate a series of side-scrolling levels filled with hazards, enemies, and environmental puzzles. The game’s controls are simple but precise:

• Movement: The chicken can run, jump, and crouch. The jump mechanics are floaty but responsive, allowing for careful platforming.
• Combat: The chicken is armed with a basic peck attack, which can be upgraded as the game progresses. Later, the player can find weapons like eggs (which can be thrown) and feathers (which can be used as projectiles).
• Stamina Management: The chicken’s stamina depletes as it runs and attacks. Corn scattered throughout the levels can be consumed to restore stamina, adding a risk-reward element to exploration.

The game’s difficulty is punishing, with enemies that deal significant damage and environmental hazards (such as vats of boiling oil and conveyor belts leading to grinders) that can kill the player instantly. Checkpoints are sparse, and the game offers no mercy for mistakes. This brutality is intentional, reinforcing the game’s themes of struggle and futility.

Character Progression and Unlockables

As the player progresses, they can unlock new playable characters, each with unique abilities:

• The Rooster: Faster and more agile, but with lower defense.
• The Turkey: Slower but stronger, capable of breaking through certain obstacles.
• The Duck: Can swim through water hazards that would drown other birds.
• The Penguin: Slides across ice and can withstand colder environments.

These characters are not just cosmetic changes; they alter the way the game is played, encouraging replayability. However, unlocking them often requires completing optional challenges or finding hidden items, which can be frustrating given the game’s high difficulty.

Boss Fights: Grotesque Embodiments of Oppression

The game’s boss fights are among its most memorable (and difficult) moments. Each boss is a nightmarish representation of the industrial food complex:

1. The Butcher Chef: A hulking, knife-wielding chef who chases the player through a kitchen, throwing cleavers and summoning minions.
2. The Grinder: A massive, mechanized meat grinder that the player must navigate while avoiding its crushing blades.
3. The Factory Foreman: A robotic overseer who controls conveyor belts and automated slaughterhouse machinery.
4. The Final Boss (Spoiler): Without giving too much away, the game’s climax involves a confrontation with the ultimate symbol of consumption—a being that embodies the player’s own complicity in the system.

These fights are brutal, often requiring memorization of attack patterns and precise execution. They are also thematically rich, forcing the player to confront the horrors of the world they are trying to escape.

UI and Feedback: Functional but Flawed

The game’s UI is minimalist, with a health bar, stamina meter, and weapon indicator taking up a small portion of the screen. While this keeps the focus on the action, it can also make it difficult to track important information, such as how much stamina remains before the chicken collapses. The game’s feedback for hits and damage is similarly understated, with no screen-shake or visual indicators to signal when the player has been struck. This can lead to moments of frustration, particularly in chaotic combat scenarios.

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World-Building, Art & Sound: A Nightmare in Pixel and Sound

Setting: A Dystopian Food Chain

Duckumentary’s world is a series of interconnected nightmares, each level representing a different stage in the journey from farm to table:

1. The Chicken Farm: A claustrophobic, maze-like environment filled with cages, electric fences, and aggressive roosters (who, in a darkly humorous twist, are just as oppressed as the player).
2. The Kitchen: A surreal, almost Alice in Wonderland-esque landscape of giant utensils, boiling pots, and sentient food items.
3. The Factory: A mechanical hellscape of conveyor belts, grinding machines, and robotic overseers.
4. The Restaurant: The game’s final level, a grotesque parody of fine dining, where the player must navigate a gauntlet of chefs, waiters, and hungry patrons.

Each environment is designed to evoke a sense of dread and claustrophobia. The levels are tight, with little room for error, and the backgrounds are often filled with disturbing details, such as the corpses of other chickens or the looming shadows of human oppressors.

Visual Design: Crude but Effective

The game’s visuals are deliberately rough, with simple sprites and minimal animation. The chickens are little more than pixelated blobs with beaks, and the enemies are similarly basic. This aesthetic choice serves multiple purposes:

• Tonal Consistency: The game’s ugly, unpolished look reinforces its themes of oppression and dehumanization. This is not a world of beauty or heroism; it is a world of suffering and survival.
• Nostalgia: The visuals evoke the early days of indie game development, when tools like GameMaker were used to create experimental, often janky experiences. Duckumentary feels like a lost relic from this era, a game that exists outside of the modern indie scene’s obsession with polish.
• Performance: The game’s simplicity ensures that it runs smoothly even on low-end hardware, making it accessible to a wide audience.

The game’s color palette is similarly muted, with drab browns, grays, and reds dominating the environments. The occasional splash of color (such as the golden hue of corn or the bright red of blood) stands out starkly, drawing the player’s attention to key elements.

Sound Design: Silence and Screams

The game’s audio is as sparse as its visuals, with a soundtrack that consists mostly of ambient noise and the occasional eerie melody. The lack of music in most levels reinforces the game’s oppressive atmosphere, making the player feel isolated and vulnerable. The sound effects are similarly minimal, with the clucking of chickens, the clanging of machinery, and the distant screams of other animals serving as the primary audio cues.

The game’s most effective use of sound comes in its boss fights, where the music swells into a chaotic, dissonant cacophony. These moments are jarring, pulling the player out of the game’s usual silence and reinforcing the horror of the encounters.

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Reception & Legacy: The Game That Never Was

Critical and Commercial Reception: A Resounding Silence

Duckumentary was released to almost no fanfare. As of this writing, the game has no critic reviews on Metacritic and only a handful of user reviews on Steam, most of which are positive but sparse. MobyGames lists the title as having been collected by only one player, a testament to its obscurity. The game’s Steam page has no community hub, no guides, and no significant discussion.

This lack of attention is not entirely surprising. Duckumentary is a game that defies easy categorization. It is too weird for mainstream audiences, too niche for indie enthusiasts, and too unpolished for critics who prioritize technical excellence. It exists in a liminal space, a game that is simultaneously ahead of its time and a relic of a bygone era.

Cult Potential and the Power of Obscurity

Despite its lack of commercial success, Duckumentary has the potential to become a cult classic. Its uncompromising vision, dark humor, and brutal gameplay make it a fascinating artifact of indie game development. In an industry increasingly dominated by games designed for mass appeal, Duckumentary stands as a reminder of the power of weird, unfiltered creativity.

The game’s themes of rebellion and consumption also feel increasingly relevant in a world where discussions about factory farming, animal rights, and capitalism are becoming more mainstream. Duckumentary is not a subtle game, but its message is one that resonates deeply in an era of late-stage capitalism and environmental collapse.

Influence on Subsequent Games: A Ghost in the Machine

It is difficult to point to any direct descendants of Duckumentary, as the game’s obscurity has limited its impact on the broader industry. However, its spirit can be seen in other indie titles that embrace surrealism, dark humor, and unapologetic difficulty. Games like Pizza Tower, LISA: The Painful RPG, and The Friends of Ringo Ishikawa share Duckumentary’s willingness to explore uncomfortable themes through absurd premises.

If Duckumentary has a legacy, it is as a footnote in the history of indie games—a reminder that not every great idea needs to be a commercial success, and that sometimes, the most interesting games are the ones that slip through the cracks.

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Conclusion: A Masterpiece of the Overlooked

Duckumentary is not a perfect game. Its controls can be janky, its difficulty punishing, and its visuals crude. But these flaws are not bugs—they are features, integral to the game’s identity as a raw, unfiltered expression of rebellion and despair. In a world where indie games are increasingly expected to compete with AAA titles in terms of polish and production values, Duckumentary is a breath of fresh air, a game that embraces its own imperfections and uses them to reinforce its themes.

It is also a game that deserves to be remembered. While it may never achieve the critical acclaim or commercial success of its contemporaries, Duckumentary is a vital piece of indie game history—a testament to the power of weird, uncompromising creativity. It is a game about fighting against an oppressive system, and in its own small way, it succeeds. The chicken may never be free, but for a few brief hours, it gives players the chance to imagine what freedom might look like.

Final Verdict: 8/10 – A Flawed but Unforgettable Experience

Duckumentary is not for everyone. Its brutal difficulty, bleak tone, and unpolished presentation will turn off many players. But for those willing to engage with its strange, unsettling world, it offers a gaming experience unlike any other—a darkly comedic, surprisingly poignant journey through the underbelly of industrial oppression. It is a game that lingers in the mind long after the credits roll, a reminder that sometimes, the most powerful stories are the ones that refuse to be ignored.