Donut County Reviews
Enter Donut County expecting a very short experience, and you'll enjoy every minute. Just prepare to want more of its sugar-coated goodness when you've finished.
Although it's a short experience, Donut County is enjoyable. The base desire to see everything destroyed by a simple, ever-expanding hole overtakes the lack of complicated mechanics, and the story is fun, whether you want something with or without some meaning attached. At the very least, Donut County is an experience that will stick with you for some time.
Donut County is incredibly endearing, but it ends too soon. While the amusing tale wraps up nicely, I wished I could have had more reason to toy around with putting trash into holes and see concepts limited to a level or two be further expanded. Donut County is worth experiencing for what it is, but it's disappointing because it could have been so much more.
Donut County's initial ideas are fun, and the game is quite hilarious. I just wish it did more with its concepts.
Donut County presents a simple concept to players: collect objects to make a hole larger until the entire stage is clear. Done poorly, no one would remember the experience whatsoever. Developer Ben Esposito turns something mechanically simplistic into a joy via smart design. The adorable world inhabited by colorful characters is something we desperately need more of in games. Donut County might not be a long experience, but it's one that players can't help but cherish.
Donut County is a fun, simple game where you control a hole in the ground. Yet the characters and story really make it memorable.
People will call Donut County an indie darling, and those people will be right.
Donut County posits a world where raccoons crave not only trash, but also apocalyptic profit. This manifests into a physics adventure game with a primary mechanic of expanding the size of a trash-swallowing hole that also swallows everything else. Donut County is a meditation on greed interrupted by a mischievous heartbeat, which is probably what you want from some sentient raccoons outfitted with preposterous technology.
It does take a half-hearted stab at commentary near the end, as you face off with the leader of the raccoons and his very American stance on (late) capitalism, but it's a little perfunctory and played more for laughs than anything else. If Donut County has contempt for anything, it's raccoons more than politics—it does not portray our furry, garbage-plundering friends in a positive light. Holes might wreck this town, but the reputation of raccoons suffer the greatest damage.
With enough lols and charm to patch over any holes (sorry, last one) in its simple, but delightful mechanics and story.
Donut County is a singular experience that transcends its simple, but potent core mechanic thanks to its idiosyncratic humor, clever gameplay twists, and a gleeful sense of what makes swallowing the world into a hole so cathartic.
Donut County is a charming and straightforward example of how video games don't need to be overly complex or contain multiple mechanics and systems to make for a good time. While your enjoyment of the game will likely depend on how satisfying you find its overall loop of dropping stuff into a hole, if this does click with you, then there's a lot that you'll love. For the low price of entry, Donut County is worth picking up and spending an evening with just to have a good chuckle.
If you're looking for something that will challenge you and twist your brain into knots, this game isn't it. There's no real skill curve, and most of the puzzles are simple enough that you can more or less accidentally stumble on the solutions, with a few rare exceptions. But I assure you that from the first moment you tip something into that hole and see it grow, you'll be hooked. You'll want to consume everything, making the void of consumption grow ever larger. No, I'm not talking about getting addicted to Twitter or Reddit. I'm talking about Donut County. It's brilliant, it's charming, and it's simple, but I would never call this hole shallow. It holds a depth in its tranquil destruction, a surprisingly refreshing and unique experience, on the (w)hole.
Donut County will fill all the holes in your puzzle-loving heart
If you take Donut County for what it is - a short and weird experience - Ben Esposito's game will deliver a sweet moment of a strange experiment. Built as an anti-Katamari Damacy, the hole mecanics are really addictive and fun to play with, even though the game suffers from a very short length. But if you are curious enough to try something as weird as the most bizarre japanese games, you might be in for a treat.
Review in French | Read full review
Donut County's gameplay doesn't offer much of a challenge, but the mechanics work as an engaging core for a game that delivers so many charming characters and genuine laughs.
Donut County isn't really bad at what it sets out to do, but its ambitions are so meager that you can't help but feel the concept hasn't been explored to the fullest extent. This is indie game design at its most disposable. I'd be shocked if anyone is still talking about—or even remembers—Donut County a year or two from now.
Donut County is a quirky puzzle-action inspired by Katamari Damacy: behind its weird look and its zany concept the game hides a valuable lesson rooted in anti-consumerism and ecologism. Too bad that – not without a cruel paradox – a game about a hole in the ground that swallows everything inherently lacks so much depth.
Review in Italian | Read full review
Donut County offers a bite-sized adventure that's crammed with some good ideas and funny exchanges. The adventure manages to expand as fast as your sinkhole, throwing in different concepts and mechanics to keep things fresh on your rambunctious city rampage; but for everything it brings to the table, it still left me wanting just a bit more.
Donut County is a charming little indie game with bags of character, but its relaxing and easy puzzles may find some players wanting more.