Monday Misfires Part 5: Lisa isn’t the indie gem people say it is.

Lisa: The Painful seems to actively dislike, or maybe even hate, those who play it. It has “painful” in the title for a reason. It is not just the pain of the characters and NPCs on your screen, but the pain the developers hope to put players through as they move through the game. If you can see past its gratuitous violence, unhinged randomness, and excessive savagery, is there anything there?

I’m a huge fan of dystopian novels and films. I’ve endured some truly brutal, harsh, rugged worlds, everything from the original Mad Max trilogy to A Clockwork Orange, and I watch horror movies from time to time, like Saw or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I’m not coming to this game without experience in, or tolerance for, degeneracy. In fact, if you’ve seen the scene in A Clockwork Orange where Alex is forced to watch endless violent imagery with his eyes clamped open, I almost feel like the developer of Lisa endured something similar and immediately went straight to pouring it all into creating this game.

But what is it all for? What is the point? Life is cruel? Sure, people can be harsh; sadly, violence is all around us in the daily news. Anyway, in an apocalyptic flash known as the “White Flash,” every woman on Earth suddenly disappears. Why only women? It is never explained, and the narrative moves on from there, focusing on Buddy, the only girl managing to survive, and the fallout of that, including the utter desperation and intense lawlessness, gore and all, with a layer of eccentricity just below the surface that makes it all the more unnerving and macabre, with some off-the-wall dark humor thrown in.

You play as Brad, a balding, middle-aged man with a beer gut, clearly two decades out of shape for what he’s about to physically endure (never mind mentally), in search of the last girl on Earth, his adopted daughter, Buddy. The journey is arduous, jam-packed with incredibly difficult choices and decisions. I’ve beaten hundreds of RPGs and dozens of Metroidvanias, so trust me when I say that whatever choice you thought was tough in any game you’ve played pales in comparison to the severity in Lisa. The repercussions are harsh and immediate, as well as sick and twisted. The most vexing is the Russian roulette you’re forced to play, where there is no player input, and it functions on pure RNG. A perfect opportunity for a mini-game was missed.

Though there are some interesting, but basic, cart races later on that were mildly amusing. Anyway, choices and consequences, or cause and effect, are ginormous in this game, but I suppose that’s the point: to turn RPG conventions on their head. In that case, non-veterans might actually have an easier time in some respects, as I found some mechanics jarring. Such as Brad’s total HP dropping. An instinct, since that impacts survivability, is to take some joy, which Brad is addicted to. But taking too much of that can permanently drop his attack.

Low on HP and SP, and want to fill them up by the campfire? In any other game, do it and move on. With Lisa, you have to weigh the risks against the potential benefit of being healed. That risk includes negatives such as a party member being kidnapped, or money or items being stolen. There are a few places you can pay to rest in safety, like any other RPG, so keep those locations in mind. Other times, Brad has to make the tough choice between his own self-preservation and his party, or perhaps sacrifice all he’s gained, including permanent penalties, to put it lightly, that impact battle performance.

Battles are fairly basic, playing out like a distorted, debauched version of EarthBound. Yes, that game is bizarre in its own right. I’ve beaten it twice, but it doesn’t get lost in its weirdness. Lisa, on the other hand, is in another stratosphere of defilement. If you play in Painful mode, realize that you can save once before the save crow disappears forever. Otherwise, save often, as late-game enemies can and will insta-kill and perma-kill your party members. They try frequently. I didn’t like the game enough to engage in that mechanic and, as some refer to it as, “save-scummed,” my way beyond any of that, as I was already exhausted from all the party members I had lost through other means.

Be aware that there aren’t many opportunities for random battles if you want higher levels and, more importantly, money, which is often in short supply, especially after some choices. Most battles against visible NPCs are one-time, so you are left fighting ghosts in dark caves and snakes in one or two fields.

There are 30 possible characters to join Brad’s ragtag motley crew, some easy to find, some extremely obtuse and/or well hidden. In an example of odd balance, or perhaps just more proof of the game hating the players, some characters are exceptionally good while others are borderline useless. I liked Birdie, Nern, and the Grandpa-Simpson like Olan the most, with RT as my main guy “off the bench,” so to speak, and honorable mentions to Beastborn, Jack, and Geese as being effective in certain situations. I found 18 or 19 total and lost 3 or 4 throughout the game.

The world is presented in a 2D platforming style, somewhat reminiscent of Paper Mario. While a map isn’t strictly necessary, it can be confusing to remember where certain locations are, as there are half a dozen or more doors leading all over the place, and everything looks similar or the same. I even pulled up a few screenshots from a walkthrough to remember what each door led to, as each area, out of three total, is structured like a mini-maze. As you move around, be careful as drops are sudden and you can take quite a bit of fall damage.

A few of the music tracks, while exploring, were actually quite good, but I found the battle themes to be off-putting and better left unheard.

Some might see this as a cult classic or hidden gem, but if push comes to shove, I prefer Lisa from The Simpsons to be the first pop culture reference that comes to mind whenever I hear the name. Personally, I see the game as too over the top, visually and narratively, and deliberately hostile to the player, so much so that it clouds any message it was trying to share.

Every time I felt myself getting into the game, it was almost like it leaned back and sucker punched me, as if to punish me for getting even remotely close. You’ll enjoy this game on its terms, point blank. This feels like the raunchy Beavis and Butthead before the more mature King of the Hill (both by Mike Judge), so I hope the developer can also mature and come out with something superior, as the potential is there for these dark themes to be explored better. I appreciated the ambition, but disliked the experience, and would recommend countless other indie retro-inspired RPGs instead.