A Pizza Delivery | PS5 Review

When I first loaded up A Pizza Delivery, I expected a quirky, short indie game about delivering pies and connecting with the locals, hoping for something heartfelt or humorous. What I found instead was a somber, minimalist experience that left me puzzled and, initially, disappointed. For most of my 90 minutes, I felt detached and directionless despite the game being mostly on a rail rather than open-world. However, after stepping away and reflecting, I began to see a different layer beneath the gray skies and awkward scooter rides. I began appreciating the emotional intent despite the rough execution.

Slices of Sadness

The premise is simple enough: you play as a delivery driver bringing pizzas to people scattered across a desolate landscape. Your boss, Earl, contacts you via pay phone and gives you initial instructions. Other pay phones show up here and there to give vague directions while he spends time writing a novel but experiencing writer’s block. He tells you that you can only talk to others if you share a pizza with them, so there is an extra pizza in your delivery bin on your scooter. I thought this was an interesting rule that hints at a deeper theme of connection through generosity. Each person you meet is wrestling with sadness or loss: one coping with heartbreak, another numbing themselves with substances, all of them isolated in their own way.

At first, their stories felt fragmented. The interactions were brief glimpses into misery with no resolution. But looking back, I suspect the developer intended this to mirror depression itself: how every encounter can feel hollow, every conversation fleeting. After 90 minutes, when making the final delivery to an elderly woman, I wasn’t understanding the long, foggy journey that brought me there until I thought about it after I turned off my PlayStation 5.

Lost in the Fog

If the story hints at meaning, the gameplay struggles to carry it. A Pizza Delivery is, at its core, a walking simulator on a scooter. There are stretches of just riding. Too much riding. Long, quiet stretches separate the sparse moments of interaction, and the scooter’s clumsy controls make navigation feel more like a chore than an escape. 

A late-game sequence where the scooter is gone leaving you wandering through a blinding blizzard “going east” epitomizes the frustration. I spent 20 minutes moving aimlessly, eventually stumbling upon my destination by luck rather than design. Even if that confusion was meant to symbolize being lost in the fog of depression, it crossed the line from meaningful to tedious. I found myself wanting a compass, a clearer goal, or simply more to do.

Quiet Environments, Lonely Sounds

Visually, the game feels unmistakably independent. There are muted colors, basic models, and minimal environmental detail. It fits the tone, but it’s far from striking. The gray skies and empty spaces successfully convey loneliness, though perhaps unintentionally at times. The goal areas where you are meant to interact with people and share a slice of pizza are equally sparse. One is under a lean-to just beyond a cemetery. Another is at a factory that is the shape of a rectangle with smoke stacks coming out of the top. The use of fences made it look more like a prison than a factory. Within is a nifty little puzzle that uses conveyor belts, but otherwise, it’s in the middle of nowhere. 

The audio side fares about the same. There’s a somber stillness throughout, with the occasional spark. Most notably, there is a short acoustic guitar moment that stood out as a brief ray of warmth amid the gloom. Still, much of the soundscape fades into the background, contributing to that sense of isolation but offering little variety.

Final Verdict – A Pizza Delivery

When I put the controller down, my immediate reaction was that I had wasted an hour and a half. Have you ever seen The Babadook? If you just watch the movie until the credits roll, you probably didn’t like it. (And don’t get me started about the little boy who is the most annoying character in film history.) However, if you know that the “monster” is a metaphor for grief and depression, it ties everything together. A Pizza Delivery is very similar in this aspect. 

I thought about it. I thought about those few-and-far-between characters and their interactions. This was clearly a personal effort from the game maker(s) to make a point about emotions, likely depression and the isolation that is brought along for the ride. Perhaps pizza helped them find comfort and community, too? Perhaps they were pizza delivery drivers during the height of their depression? The possibilities are endless, but they make sense.

It’s not an enjoyable game to play, but I believe it’s an honest one. It’s messy, confusing, and often frustrating, but maybe that’s the point. The developer seems to have poured something deeply personal into it, even if the result is hard to love. I can respect that. With more polish, tighter gameplay, and clearer direction, their next project could hit the emotional notes while delivering stronger gaming mechanics.

For me, A Pizza Delivery was an experience that failed as entertainment but succeeded as expression. Sometimes, that’s enough.

To hear me talk more about A Pizza Delivery, be sure to listen to the November 12, 2025 episode of The Gaming Outsider podcast.

This review is based on a PlayStation 5 copy of A Pizza Delivery provided by Jesus Fabre for coverage purposes. It is also available on Xbox Series X/S and PC via Steam.