The 2025 sequel swaps the original’s first‑person scavenging for third‑person, cross‑play co‑op across four vibrant planets—packing slapstick tools, slapdash bosses, and surprisingly sharp satire.

If Journey to the Savage Planet was the quirky office prank that spiraled into a fire drill, Revenge of the Savage Planet is the whole HR department getting roasted on the company Slack—loud, colorful, and gloriously unbothered by decorum. Developed and published by Raccoon Logic (the team that created the first game as Typhoon Studios), this follow‑up lands with a clear thesis: exploration should be rewarding, jokes should land with a splat, and co‑op should be a first‑class citizen. It launched May 8, 2025 on PC and consoles, with online cross‑play and split‑screen co‑op baked in.
What’s the setup?

You’re a disposable cog in a galaxy‑spanning megacorp. Having been “made redundant and abandoned” on the far edge of space (corporate speak rarely sounds this cheerful), you rummage through alien biomes to gather resources, catalog wildlife, craft upgrades—and eventually stick it to your former employer. The tone is satirical but focused: think fake infomercials, hostile HR memos, and a habitat you can decorate with a level of pride that would worry an interior designer. The official pitch emphasizes scanning plants and creatures, spelunking through caves, lassoing wildlife into holding pens, and turning your Space Trailer into a shrine of bad taste, all while upgrading a Swiss‑army arsenal of mobility tricks.
A sequel that actually changes the angle

The biggest shake‑up is perspective: the original was first‑person; the sequel switches to third‑person. That one decision does a ton of work. Platforming reads clearer, situational awareness improves in the scrum, and the game can flex a wilder animation style—your explorer squashes and stretches like a cartoon character that survived a Looney Tunes stunt. It’s not just cosmetic; reviewers widely flagged how the shift, paired with multiple planets, makes the world design feel more cohesive and consistently rewarding to poke around.
A galaxy of goo (and gadgets)

Everything in Revenge seems to either be made of goo, produce goo, or fear goo. The game riffs on status‑effect slimes (conductive, fiery, etc.), and the toolset doubles down on slapstick: a magnetic fork that yeets metal objects, a hose that sprays elementally charged liquids, and a late‑game grappling upgrade that transforms traversal into free‑form air‑acrobatics. The result is improvisational puzzle‑combat where you’re just as likely to win because you MacGyvered a solution with physics as because you aimed true.
The structure echoes modern Metroidvanias in spirit—return to earlier areas once you’ve unlocked the movement or tool gate that used to taunt you—across four primary worlds (plus a cheeky “maybe more” tease). Each biome is dense with scannables, secrets, and side detours; rarely do you jog ten meters without seeing an enticing ledge or an odd plant daring you to poke it.
Co‑op, done generously

Raccoon Logic makes co‑op the headline, not a mode buried three menus deep. You can play online with cross‑play or locally in split‑screen, and the level design embraces that partnership—one player baiting a nest while the other scans or grapples to a hidden cache feels like the intended rhythm.

Even better, it supports couch co‑op, a rarity for this kind of open‑world explorer in 2025, and an absolute blessing for anyone who misses arguing over who gets the “good” half of the screen.
Revenge also arrived Day One on Game Pass for console, PC, and cloud, which instantly lowers the friction to try it with friends. If co‑op curiosity is the nudge you need, Game Pass removes the last excuse.
The comedy actually uses the controller

Video‑game comedy often lives in cutscenes that beg you to stop playing. Revenge is smarter: it wants the gag to fire when you press a button. Ads loop on your habitat’s giant screen, yes—but the bigger laughs come from physics pratfalls, upgrade‑triggered happy accidents, and the way tools let you over‑solve simple problems in stupidly satisfying ways. Think “What if Zelda was funny on purpose?” filtered through a ‘90s‑meets‑Nickelodeon slime sensibility. It’s irreverent without being cruel, and when the jokes miss, they at least miss at speed.
How long is it, and what’s the arc?

Expect a brisk, focused campaign—roughly a dozen hours if you beeline objectives, expanding to 15–20+ for completionists who must scan every plant and mount every suspiciously climbable rock. Crucially, the game spaces out its power curve well: early jumps and pistol buffs, then mobility unlocks that flip traversal from methodical to gleefully free‑form. That cadence pulls you off the golden path again and again to chase a secret you clocked three hours earlier.
Combat: the weak link (by design)

The gunplay is intentionally light—one main blaster with meaningful upgrades and a toolbox of crowd‑control toys. When enemy swarms are on‑script, the chaos is good, clean bedlam; when they’re not, aiming and pacing can feel like the straight man in a sketch that doesn’t need one. Several outlets dinged repetitive encounters and occasionally fussy enemy behaviors; others argued the combat is a supporting actor to traversal, scanning, and puzzle‑centric tinkering. If you’re here for arena shooter highs, you’ll bounce; if you want an exploration‑first playground where fights are punctuation marks, you’ll vibe.
Performance & polish: mostly smooth, sometimes squeaky
On PC, the game’s art direction sings—thick color, bold silhouettes, readable platforms—and performance is generally solid. On consoles, experiences are more mixed. Some reviewers noted quest marker hiccups and an odd music system that starts and stops a little too eagerly during fights. Others called out occasional instability. None of it felt deal‑breaking in aggregate, but it’s the difference between “delightful” and “delightful, with a couple scuffs.”
Progression: sticky in a good way

Where Revenge shines is in its loop. Scan it, sample it, sling goo at it, then pin it to your growing encyclopedia.

Bring back resources to your Space Trailer, cash in upgrades, and immediately feel them matter.

The late‑game grappling re‑contextualizes everything you’ve seen, and the habitat customization—purely cosmetic but weirdly addictive—gives the satire a home base. Even the “collect them for the sake of collecting” tasks land because the world is tightly designed; the shortest distance between two points is rarely the most interesting.
Co‑op quality‑of‑life

The best endorsement for the multiplayer is that nothing important breaks when two players are poking the world at once. Progress sync is handled sensibly, puzzles don’t devolve into lockstep frustration, and the map density gives each player something to chase at all times. Cross‑play worked as advertised in testing across outlets, and the split‑screen option—again, bless it—turns Revenge into a couch staple.
Post‑launch support: demos, tunes, and… a golden bidet

Raccoon Logic has been refreshingly open about post‑launch plans. A free Steam demo arrived alongside a chunky update that added a 60 FPS mode, a photo mode, and more habitat decoration goodies—plus an absurd in‑game “Bidet‑a‑lago” trinket for buyers who sample the demo first. The studio has also been candid about wishlist‑to‑purchase realities and how stronger early sales can greenlight more DLC. That frankness fits the game’s tone: honest, a bit cheeky, and entirely fine poking at the money part of making games.

Little touches that linger

- Traversal clarity. Third‑person makes reading jumps fast and fair. The difference is night‑and‑day when eyeballing a moving platform or a tilted rail.
- Tool synergy. The “magnetic fork + hose + grapple” trio is a chaos engine. It rewards curiosity over twitch reflexes, which fits the exploration‑first ethos.
- Biome variety. Rainforest starter, icy peaks, sandy dunes, volcanic craters—each feels like a focused puzzle box, not a map marker landfill.
- Community‑friendly on‑ramps. Included in Game Pass and offering a free demo lowers commitment for co‑op squads deciding on a weekend game.
The verdict

Revenge of the Savage Planet isn’t trying to be the biggest open world of the year—it’s trying to be the most toy‑like. On that front, it mostly nails it. The new third‑person angle reduces friction everywhere it counts; the four‑planet structure is dense but digestible; the slapstick gadgetry lets you solve problems sideways; and the co‑op options (online cross‑play and split‑screen) make it easy to share the silliness with someone else. When the combat underwhelms or the polish scuffs appear, the game’s personality papers over the cracks with a wink and a wobble.
If you loved the first game’s tone but wished it felt more like a playful platformer than a shooter, this is your sequel. If you want a breezy, technicolor adventure to lose a weekend to—alone or in laughter‑punctuated co‑op—this is your huckleberry. And if you’re on Xbox or PC with Game Pass, it’s a zero‑hesitation download. Sometimes revenge is a dish best served… slimed.
Platform & availability notes: Launched May 8, 2025 on PC (Steam/Epic/GOG) and consoles, with online cross‑play and local split‑screen co‑op; the shift to third‑person from the 2020 original is one of the sequel’s defining strengths. A free demo and a post‑launch update added a 60 FPS mode and photo mode, with the team openly courting DLC support. On Steam, user reviews currently trend “Very Positive,” reflecting a community that’s embraced the goof.
Score: ★★★★☆ (4/5) — A vibrant, witty co‑op romp that favors curiosity over carnage.