Pigeon Simulator sits squarely in the realm of mischievous, low-stakes mayhem: you are a government pigeon tasked with containing supernatural oddities across a stylised New Squawk City. The premise sells itself on absurdity and the game obliges by leaning fully into the bird-agent conceit with goofy tools, target quotas, and a brisk mission template that give it an identity that’s immediately clear and consistently playful. The narrative framing is intentionally thin; it exists to justify the antics rather than to support a dramatic arc, which keeps the tone light but leaves players seeking any kind of proper storytelling wanting more.
At the heart of the experience is a short, repeatable loop: launch into a level, grapple toward anomalies, neutralise or capture them, and return to the extractor. That loop produces genuine moments of slapstick joy when everything clicks – the combination of awkward pigeon flight, tethered tools and explosive oddities creates chaotic, funny scenarios. Progression systems provide tangible upgrades that change how a run feels, with increased mobility, extra air jumps and more effective equipment opening up different approaches to objectives. These systems give runs a satisfying tick of growth, but the progression’s fragility undercut by the run-based resets reduces long-term investment; losing upgrades after mission failure dampens momentum and makes repeated tries feel more like repetition than escalation.
Controls are approachable but have a particular character: pigeons are initially graceless and that deliberate clumsiness is part of the design, making later mobility gains feel earned. The tools – grappling devices, projectile “poop” mechanics and other government-issue gadgets – are amusingly tactile and encourage improvisation. Yet the execution is uneven; collision and flight feel serviceable rather than precise, and the mechanical rough edges occasionally lead to frustration during tighter encounters. The balance between comedy and responsiveness tilts toward the former, which suits social play but leaves solo runs exposed to mechanical irritants.
Visually, New Squawk City is bold in concept and modest in scope. The aesthetic choices – bright, cartoony surfaces, exaggerated props and physicsy interactions – align with the tone and deliver a coherent world without striving for technical impressiveness. Environments read clearly and suit the gameplay, but variety and visual polish are limited, so distinctiveness fades after repeated visits. Audio design matches the visuals: coos, tool noises and squawks contribute to the characterful atmosphere, but there’s no sweeping score or soundscape depth to lift the experience beyond its comedic core.
Where the game finds its clearest footing is in cooperative play. Shared confusion, combined escapes from escalating chaos and synced gadget use create memorable sessions with friends and make the core loop feel lively and social. Conversely, solo runs lack the same buoyancy; without other players the run structure’s reset penalties and the game’s lightweight systems reveal themselves more bluntly, shifting the experience from playful to grindy. The matchmaking and in-game chat elements matter here: when communication works the game hums, and when it doesn’t the social spark dims.
Taken together, Pigeon Simulator delivers a competent, funny co-op romp more than it offers a durable single-player package. The premise is excellent at selling small bursts of entertainment, the upgrade system supplies short-term reward, and the multiplayer chaos is the best reason to play. Its limitations – modest graphical variety, an unforgiving run reset on failure, and some control imprecision – keep it from being a deep, long-term play for most players. As a silly, social diversion it succeeds; as a solo progression experience it falls short.
Score: 6.8/10
Press Play Media 