An very aggressive robot, madly in love with a female, ripping enemies' limbs off while yelling in a bleak future. Does it sound familiar? Not at all? You may have to be a GenX European comic book enthusiast who ate up the controversial and countercultural Italian graphic novel series RanXerox in the late 1970s. In 1990, RanX released a modest, now-forgotten brawler/adventure hybrid game of his own. Perhaps that endearing anti-hero is too much for today's sensitivities. But with a changed concept, it could sail through the gaming world without drawing criticism from the cancel culture.

Here's a little gender and sexuality reversal: Cookie Cutter is a violent video game where the player controls a hyperviolent female robot who is madly in love with a girl. She rips enemies' limbs off while wailing in a dystopian future. However, there is very little to no NSFW feeling on Cookie Cutter, so we can't really discuss underground sensibilities, gaming punk, or cultural subversion. However, the game is a solid Metroidvania with striking hand-drawn graphics and intense, kinetic fighting. For some, it should enough.

Not as strange as anticipated

In Cookie Cutter, Cherry plays a fierce female android whose human creator and soul mate were brutally kidnapped by the robotic regime's oppressive troops. They live in a totalitarian society that was intended to be a technological paradise in which humans would live on in robotic bodies after death. After a number of things went wrong, we are left with exploitation and future fascism, which sparked resistance. Overall, the setting is a traditional science fiction dystopia, unworthy of being published by La Biennale di Venezia. Sometimes, the strange things you see are quite insignificant and unremarkable.

One example is Regina, a "female" AI that you carry around in a mechanical device that resembles a vagina. All that's there is strong innuendo and purposeful wordplay. From that premise, you might fairly anticipate something clever, contentious, and outlandish, right? However, what you get is mostly corny conversation interspersed with jokes. You will eventually lose interest in what the other NPCs are saying since they are much less unique. Thankfully, Cookie Cutter makes up for its poor storyline with plenty of offerings.

Peeking cherry

Here, the main draw is gory, violent battle. Cherry uses immense energy as she kicks and punches, creating the "void" resource that powers her unique weapons. These are the primary methods for eliminating legions of more difficult adversaries. Using the robust metallic gauntlet, you will first clubbing and throwing mobs across the room. After a few hours of thrilling exploration, you'll get an electric guitar, then a chainsaw, and so on. Certain weapons, like that chainsaw, may also be used to create paths, making previously unreachable areas accessible via different levels.

Combat is joyful in many ways. You will be on the defensive as the enemies will not let up, attacking you with frequent swings, claws, and even the odd gunshot. It's amazing how you can use the terrain and manoeuvrability to stack them up, take down many of them with a single blow, stagger them, and then tear them to shreds like Doom Eternal. It is quite helpful to utilize such strategy since the ripped adversary voids and returns some HP. You may use electric fields, lasers, poison beams, and other environmental dangers to launch smaller enemies, but doing so will prevent you from using staggered, replenishing violence. You can also use void to heal, but it takes time and necessitates removing yourself from direct danger.

To drastically accelerate the staggering, you might attempt to deflect their blows if you're feeling daring. Since it needs very precise timing, you'll probably overlook it in favor of the more visceral clobbering. Unfortunately, you'll ultimately have to get the hang of it since certain bosses demand you to grasp that technique.

Megastructure calls to you

The game Cookie Cutter is very big. It's a megastructure with 10 enormous sections where everything takes place. Although they are related, the majority of the pathways are initially blocked and need for a certain piece of equipment or skill. That is the mainstay of each Metroidvania, and in terms of the scope and intricacy of its zones, Cookie Cutter delivers. Discovering it all is a great deal of joy. You'll always find new methods to open up new paths, such as the double leap, ground slam, ore-ripping chainsaw, and other skills and equipment.

There's more motivation to squeeze into every nook and cranny thanks to the resource/upgrade mechanisms. You may get the money and materials you need to upgrade your equipment by often finding secret chambers and other areas of the enormous labyrinth via exploration. Elevated equipment levels significantly alter the obstacles that you may encounter. You have an extra layer of passive gear components in addition to weapons and gear. Those may be enabled or disabled as needed, based on the circumstances and the quantity of permanent power cells you have so far located. Because you'll never have the energy to switch everything on at once, tactical awareness is essential.

Asskickers everywhere, band together

This is the most fun I've had in Metroidvania since Metroid: Dread. I spent around twenty hours within this sneaky Megastructure, and it was well worth it simply for that feeling. Nonetheless, I find myself puzzled by most of the narrative choices. The developers have the chance to produce something really memorable. But as soon as they took up the ball, they dropped it, as if they were scared of the monster they were making.

In my opinion, Cookie Cutter was clearly intended to be very provocative and thought-provoking. Sadly, the content creators disregarded that blueprint. Why create a game with a robot that resembles a vagina and a lesbian as its main character, almost guaranteeing a M rating (ESRB) on its own, and then have the storyline become a boring, mostly safe affair? What good is it to attempt to be edgy and then back off practically as soon as your intentions are declared? Why let the audience be haunted by its traces? Numerous reasons...