Marvel’s Deadpool VR Review for Meta Quest

Trying to explain my experience with Marvel’s Deadpool VR feels like trying to narrate a roller coaster while the tracks are being built under you in real time. I walked in with the admittedly heavy baggage of having already been spoiled by Camouflaj’s Iron Man VR and Batman: Arkham Shadow, which sort of warped my expectations before the headset even slipped over my eyes. VR superhero games can hit a special high, and earlier titles had already set a mark that Marvel’s Deadpool VR had no choice but to wrestle with. Twisted Pixel Games being at the helm added its own flavor, since their past work on things like ’Splosion Man and Ms. Splosion Man gave me a sense of how gleefully chaotic they can be, even before I found myself standing there as Wade Wilson with twin katanas strapped to my back.

And then, of course, the story doesn’t bother easing you into anything. I went from familiar Deadpool snark to being kidnapped by Mojo, who the text describes as an intergalactic TV producer with an obsession for violence. Mojo shoves Deadpool into this bizarre, carnage-heavy reality show that alternates between “acquisition missions” and Death Battle Arena mini-games. That meant hunting down Marvel villains across levels—Omega Red and Lady Deathstrike being among the most prominent in my run—while Mojo’s grotesque enthusiasm filled the air. On paper, it sounds like nothing more than scaffolding holding a bunch of chaotic set pieces together, and honestly, narratively speaking, that is exactly what it is. But the game is very aware of itself, constantly bending into its own absurdity through Deadpool’s talkative personality and through that nonstop flow of jokes that becomes a kind of noise you learn to manage, especially when you take the text’s suggestion of playing in one- or two-hour increments to keep everything fresh.

Deadpool’s voice fills every corner of the game, and because Neil Patrick Harris performs him with such sharp comedic timing, there is never a moment when you forget that this character is supposed to be an unstoppable fountain of sarcasm. The source text specifically says that Harris’s delivery is so on point that it feels on par with Ryan Reynolds. The jokes pull from an enormous net of pop culture—everything from “Damn Daniel” to “Pepperidge Farm remembers,” with nods to Vanquish, Ted 2, Dancer in the Dark, NCIS, Danganronpa, Smurfs, Pokémon, Sense8, Secretariat, Pitbull, and Fortnite—and as I moved through these references, I could feel the game daring me to keep up with the amount of noise Deadpool pumps into your ears. Spiral, in contrast, had a flatter delivery that didn’t stand out, while Mojo’s voice had the grotesque sleaze exactly as the text describes it. Lady Deathstrike dropped some strong comedic lines, too, especially when the game decided to tear my limbs off mid-fight.

Speaking of limbs, the dismemberment system caught me off guard not only because it was strange to see but because it genuinely affected the gameplay. Losing an arm meant I was actually fighting one-handed for a while until the limb regrew. Losing my entire lower half forced me into that memorable race against a recurring antagonist where all I had was a grappling gun. Losing my head turned into a scene where I stared up at my own body from the floor. These details are all straight from the text and form some of the oddest but most memorable segments of the entire experience. The gore remains cartoonish rather than realistic, with detailed dismemberment and giblets that match the cel-shaded art style.

But before I talk about visuals, I should go into the combat loop that fills most of the ten-to-twelve-hour campaign. Deadpool VR’s action is unapologetically arcade-like. I moved through waves of thugs, demons, and cybernetically enhanced space zombies while juggling twin katanas, dual pistols, wrist grenades, and the gravity gun that happily tosses enemies around. Deadpool wall-runs, double jumps, powerslides, dive-kicks, grapples, and generally turns each arena into a playground of movement. Enemies drop all kinds of weapons—assault rifles, shotguns, SMGs, grenade launchers, missile launchers, flaming swords, shock batons, and the chainsaw-bladed axe that is as ridiculous as its description implies.

The weapon progression surprised me with how specific the numbers are in the source text: around eight pistols, eight wrist-mounted grenades, and eight katana variants can be unlocked in the hub using Mojo bucks. Pistols like the Penetrator have laser sights, some katanas extend mid-swing, and others return to your hand like boomerangs. The differences between variants feel meaningful enough that you can shape how you play based on what you select.

One of my favorite mechanics, and one the text emphasizes heavily, is Big Money Time. Filling the meter and pressing the X button on the left controller triggers short bursts of extreme power. By default, you get Gambit’s explosive kinetic cards. The text describes the moment “You’re the Best” by Joe Esposito kicks in during Big Money Time as Deadpool throws glowing purple cards at waves of ninjas, and living through that moment feels like stepping into a comic panel that got stuck inside a 1980s training montage. Other Big Money Time options include Thor’s hammer and Star-Lord’s Element Guns, with background tracks from Faith No More and The Flaming Lips.

Movement, enemy variety, weapon grab mechanics, and the general spectacle all create a strong rhythm, but the source material takes great care to point out the weaknesses, and I absolutely noticed them as the hours stacked up. Melee strikes feel weightless, swords pass through enemies with almost no physical resistance, and two-handed guns feel flimsy. Guns in general suffer from enemies being sponge-like; headshots don’t matter until the health bar is low. The parry system is described as inconsistent and finicky, and that description fits exactly with how I experienced it. After the first few hours, the lack of solid physicality in combat becomes more glaring, even though the action looks spectacular.

Boss fights underline that problem. They are described as multi-phase bullet sponges with slow-motion Quick Time Event segments that sometimes eject you from VR entirely if you’re not standing in the exact spot the game expects. The text explicitly notes that it can shove you back to the Quest lobby during a boss fight, which I experienced myself, and that specific bug breaks immersion more than anything Deadpool himself says. Only one boss stands out; most are functional but forgettable.

Between combat sections, the game throws platforming, small mini-games, and exposition dumps at you. There are plenty of super fun sections, though a fair few feel repetitive to the point that Deadpool himself calls it “lazy game design” mid-mission, which is in the source text, and while I laughed, the repetition was still obvious. Mojo’s Battle Arena missions sit somewhere between entertaining and uninspired.

Visually, this game finds its strongest footing. The text praises Twisted Pixel’s cell-shaded comic-book style as the best execution of this look to date. Every environment—from grimy alleys to neon-soaked intergalactic arenas, from Mephisto’s tacky casino to Omega Red’s Soviet-themed compound and the psychedelic Rez Infinite–style homage—pulsed with vibrant color. The lack of environmental interactivity is neutralized by the strength of the art direction. What surprised me was how clearly the text notes the disparity between the Quest 3 and the Quest 3S. Everything looks significantly better on the Quest 3, though performance dips appear late in the campaign on both devices. Heavy scenes filled with explosions, vehicles, or large enemy crowds cause framerate drops, pixelation, and even buzzing noises from the headset under stress.

Sound design is another standout. Neil Patrick Harris carries the entire experience with a performance the text describes as perfectly capturing Deadpool’s snark, self-awareness, and chaotic energy. Mojo vocalizes sleazy delight, Spiral sounds comparatively flat, Lady Deathstrike delivers comedic lines during dismemberment scenes, and the soundtrack blends Marvel-grade score energy with pop anthems and rock tracks. Even long dialogue scenes held my attention because the voice acting remained entertaining even without gameplay happening.

Comfort settings include three modes: one with snap turning, comfort blinds, and no screen shake; one called “VR Hero” with all visual restraints removed; and the ability to skip visually intense vehicle sequences. A Kidpool mode reduces vulgarity, although the source notes that this runs counter to Deadpool’s nature.

So, where all of this lands for me, in the end, is that Deadpool VR is fun when it’s flowing and uneven when it isn’t. The movement and combat pulled me in, the different Deadpool variants made replays enjoyable, and Neil Patrick Harris fit the character really well. The boss fights dragged things down, especially when the scripted moments broke immersion, and the performance dips were hard to ignore on the weaker headset. Even with the flaws, it still ended up the most complete and entertaining superhero VR experience since Batman: Arkham Shadow, as long as you’re playing on the Quest 3 instead of the Quest 3S.