Bloody Hell, This 'Dating Sim' Is A Nightmare: Why 'I'm In Love With Your Dead Grandmother' Is Unintentionally Horrifying
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
I'm In Love with Your Dead Grandmother is a dating sim that could work if the jokes were funny. They are not. Read our impressions for more.
Right, gather 'round, mates, because I've been rummaging through the digital archives, and fair dinkum, some games out there are wilder than a wizard's botched potion. This week, we're diving headfirst into a title that sounds like a particularly unhinged TikTok trend: 'I'm In Love with Your Dead Grandmother'. And trust me, it’s somehow more bonkers and unsettling than that name suggests. We're talking less 'charming indie experiment' and more 'accidental psychological horror flick dressed in visual novel clothes.'
Now, before we go tumbling down this rabbit hole, a massive shout-out to **Paulo Kawanishi over at Polygon** for bravely treading these hallowed, or perhaps unhallowed, grounds. His review, originally published on March 7, 2026, as part of Polygon's 'Random Select' column, really peeled back the layers on this digital oddity, and frankly, my own curiosity receptors went into overdrive after reading it. He's done the yeoman's work here, so we're building on his excellent observations, adding a sprinkle of my own Jeff-fueled musings about what happens when satire goes a bit... sideways. You can check out his full, insightful breakdown.
So, what exactly is this game? Produced by Kimulator's Films, 'I'm In Love with Your Dead Grandmother' pitches itself as a visual novel – a 'dating sim,' even – that aims for absurd, low-budget satire. You step into the digital shoes of Noah, a 28-year-old chap who, after creating a dating app profile, lands a first date with Michelle. Sounds pretty standard, right? A bit of digital romance, maybe some quirky dialogue choices. Well, buckle up, because Noah quickly veers into a realm so cringe-worthy, it makes early 2000s raunchy comedies look like Shakespearean sonnets.
See, Noah isn't just a bit awkward; he's a full-blown social catastrophe. On his date, he offers Michelle food made of Play-Doh (yes, Play-Doh!), is utterly tone-deaf to her feelings, and, perhaps most disturbingly, carries a camera in his trousers. He then has the gall to ask Michelle if he can snap photos of her to share in a group chat with his mates, where, as the game reveals, he regularly swaps pictures of naked women. Bloody hell, mate, where are your manners? Or your moral compass, for that matter?
But the titular twist comes when Noah learns about Michelle's grandmother, Betty. His interest in Michelle immediately evaporates, replaced by an unsettling obsession with seducing the elderly woman. His ideas, as Kawanishi points out, border on outright sexual harassment. It’s here that the game's attempts at humor truly crumble, revealing something far more sinister underneath.
The genius (and horror) of this game, as dissected by the Polygon review, isn't in its preposterous premise, but in how terrifyingly *real* Noah feels. He’s meant to be a caricature, an exaggerated joke, but he ends up being a painfully accurate embodiment of a particular brand of toxic, outdated masculinity. Think of those wild TikTok trends where women expose the absolute shockers they receive from guys they’ve dated – the ones demanding money back for dinner because 'no sex' or delivering rambling monologues about their 'fantastic qualities.' Noah is that guy, cranked up to eleven.
He’s a self-centered, insecure mess, swinging between unwarranted overconfidence and paralysing self-doubt. His own concerns are paramount, while Michelle, the actual human being sitting across from him, might as well be a cardboard cut-out. Kawanishi aptly compares him to characters from 'I Think You Should Leave' or 'Tim & Eric,' those uncomfortable masters of cringe comedy. But Noah isn't quite hitting that mark; he's playing a role he doesn't understand, and the result is less funny, more 'hide-under-the-bed-and-pray-he-goes-away.'
The game's interactive elements don't help matters. As a player, you're often prompted to choose Noah's responses, but it’s like trying to pilot a malfunctioning robot through a tea party. Kawanishi describes it as trying to control an 'alien visitor in a human body,' and I reckon that’s spot on. Should he be honest? Should he avoid a kiss? Noah himself doesn’t seem to know, making it impossible to empathize with this digital disaster. He's just so damn unlikable, you almost want to hit the escape button and scrub your brain clean.
Noah’s only sanctuary of confidence is in his own head, his childishly hand-drawn fantasy world where he’s the irresistible charmer he desperately wants to be. There’s a scene where he imagines winning Betty’s heart, and out of a long list of options, the *only* one he believes would work is pretending to be a plumber so she'd have to go on a date with him to pay for the 'work.' Think about that for a second. His ideal courtship involves creating a situation where an elderly woman is forced into his presence due to a fake debt. Being himself, sharing genuine feelings? Out of the question. Bloody hell, even a goblin wizard crafting a love potion would come up with something less manipulative!
This game is *supposed* to be funny. It’s meant to be exaggerated jokes, callbacks to those infamous early 2000s raunchy comedies. But for Paulo Kawanishi, and I strongly suspect for many others, the jokes simply don’t land. Instead of laughter, you get shivers. Instead of 'ha-ha,' you get 'oh, dear god, no.' Noah’s voice, his 'sexy moves' towards Betty – it’s all just… horrifying. It’s a game that fails as satire but accidentally succeeds as a chilling character study of a genuinely awful person.
So, while 'I'm In Love with Your Dead Grandmother' might not be the laugh riot it aims for, it certainly sparks a conversation. It’s a fascinating, albeit deeply uncomfortable, look at the fine line between absurd humor and genuine discomfort. And sometimes, mate, those accidental revelations are the most interesting stories in gaming.
Original article: Polygon