There are certain names in gaming that come with baggage. Expectations. A promise. Painkiller is one of them. You do not reboot Painkiller unless you are ready to let players loose in a cathedral full of screaming horrors with weapons that look like medieval torture devices and absolutely no concern for subtlety. So going into the 2025 reboot, I wanted carnage. I wanted speed. I wanted that slightly unhinged arena shooter energy that feels like it is one misstep away from collapsing into beautiful chaos.
What I got instead is a good, modern co-op shooter that occasionally flirts with greatness but rarely lets itself completely off the leash.
Let’s start with what works, because when Painkiller hits, it hits properly hard. The core combat feels weighty and satisfying. Weapons have real punch to them, with enough impact and visual feedback to make every demon you drop feel earned. There is a tempo to the firefights that rewards aggression rather than passivity. Health and momentum systems push you forward instead of encouraging you to hide behind cover, and in those moments where you are dashing between enemies, juggling reloads and carving through waves without stopping, the game finds its identity. It feels fast. It feels vicious. It feels like Painkiller.
Visually, the gothic aesthetic carries a lot of the atmosphere. Massive, imposing structures loom over arenas drenched in hellfire glow. The lighting work gives encounters a dramatic edge, especially when things get hectic and the screen fills with explosions, particle effects and flailing limbs. The boss fights are a genuine highlight, leaning fully into grotesque spectacle. They feel like events rather than obstacles, demanding attention and movement rather than just sustained damage output. These encounters are where the reboot most confidently channels the franchise’s legacy.
The biggest shift, though, is structural. This Painkiller is unapologetically designed around co-op. That is not a criticism in itself, but it changes the tone. With friends, the game becomes a proper demon-slaying playground. The arenas feel more dynamic, the chaos escalates naturally, and there is a satisfying rhythm to coordinating abilities and surviving overwhelming odds together. The design philosophy makes sense in that context.
Solo play tells a slightly different story. AI companions are competent but never particularly inspiring, and there is a noticeable sense that encounters are tuned with teamwork in mind. The feeling of isolation that defined older arena shooters is softened. Instead of feeling like a lone force tearing through Purgatory by sheer will, you feel like part of a system. It works mechanically, but emotionally it lacks a bit of that feral edge. Painkiller, as a concept, should feel dangerous. This version feels controlled.
Content-wise, the campaign moves at a brisk pace. Some players will appreciate the tighter runtime, especially in an era where every shooter seems determined to stretch itself thin. Others may find it slightly undercooked. The core loop remains consistent throughout: enter arena, survive waves, push forward. Because the gunplay is strong, this loop never becomes dull, but it does stop short of meaningful evolution. Enemy variety is solid without being exceptional, and while there are spikes of intensity, the escalation curve feels flatter than it could have been.
What stands out most is that this reboot does not try to be a nostalgia museum. It is not a one-to-one recreation of what came before. It feels like a modern reinterpretation aimed at making the formula more accessible and more team-focused. For some, that will be exactly what they wanted. For others chasing that pure, old-school arena chaos, it may feel like something vital has been smoothed out.
Personally, I landed somewhere in the middle. I had fun. Genuine, adrenaline-fuelled fun, particularly in co-op sessions where the combat systems were allowed to breathe. I admired the art direction and enjoyed the spectacle of the larger encounters. But I never quite reached that transcendent flow state where the game disappears and instinct takes over. The edges are sharper than most contemporary shooters, but they are not razor sharp.
Painkiller 2025 is a strong return, just not a legendary one. It proves there is still space for gothic, demon-blasting mayhem in the modern shooter landscape. It just stops short of fully embracing the madness its own name demands. A 7 out of 10 feels fair. It is stylish, energetic and frequently satisfying, yet never quite unhinged enough to be unforgettable.