Lock Her Up: The Trump Supremacy, developed and published by Three Guys Game Studio, is an unapologetically absurd political parody turned twin-stick shooter that revels in its own chaos. Released in 2018, it arrived during a period when political satire was spilling over into all forms of media, and this small indie title took that energy and ran with it—literally arming caricatures of world leaders and setting them loose in an over-the-top battle against a robotic apocalypse. The concept is as ridiculous as it sounds: you take control of Donald Trump or Vladimir Putin in a cooperative wave-based shooter where the enemies are “globalist robots” and the objective is simple—survive and annihilate everything in sight. The game never pretends to be anything more than a tongue-in-cheek, politically incorrect joke dressed up as an action game, and that self-awareness becomes one of its most defining traits.
From the outset, Lock Her Up establishes its tone with exaggerated humor and deliberate absurdity. The visual presentation is loud, brash, and purposefully gaudy, with bright explosions, exaggerated character models, and environments that parody both American and Russian political imagery. Locations range from the White House lawn to the Alamo and even Moscow, all rendered in a cartoonish style that fits the game’s satirical edge. The characters themselves are caricatures, bearing exaggerated features and mannerisms that push the parody far beyond realism. The combination of political satire and arcade-style chaos gives the game a distinct identity—one that’s less about polished graphics or narrative depth and more about embracing the ridiculousness of its premise. It’s a world where real-world politics meet comic-book nonsense, where the leaders of two major powers become unlikely action heroes in a surreal fight for global supremacy.
Gameplay is straightforward but energetic. Lock Her Up operates as a twin-stick shooter, placing the player in enclosed arenas while waves of robotic enemies attack from all directions. Movement and shooting are simple, with a handful of weapons available—ranging from pistols and rifles to miniguns and sniper rifles—each offering slightly different firing rates and damage outputs. The combat is fast-paced and chaotic, with explosions and particle effects filling the screen as you mow down endless waves of metallic foes. The game’s design encourages co-op play, either through local multiplayer or via Steam Remote Play, making it more enjoyable as a shared experience than as a solo endeavor. There’s a sense of old-school arcade satisfaction in clearing wave after wave, even if the mechanics themselves are rudimentary. The limited enemy variety and lack of progression systems mean that repetition sets in quickly, but as a short burst of co-op fun, it manages to deliver a few rounds of genuine entertainment.
The humor of Lock Her Up is its central hook and also its most divisive element. The developers clearly lean into political parody without restraint, poking fun at real-world figures and populist slogans. The title itself, a reference to one of the most infamous political chants in recent American history, sets the tone for what follows—a barrage of exaggerated dialogue snippets, tongue-in-cheek references, and satirical overstatements that make it clear the game isn’t taking any side seriously. Both Trump and Putin are depicted as absurd heroes fighting against an almost nonsensical threat, and the storyline is more an excuse for mayhem than a coherent narrative. Depending on the player’s perspective, the satire might come across as biting comedy or as shallow shock humor. It’s political parody in the most juvenile, self-aware sense: provocative for the sake of being provocative, but done with a wink that softens the blow.
Visually, the game embraces its indie roots. The graphics are rough but serviceable, with character and environment designs that prioritize clarity and comedy over realism. The lighting effects and explosions are intentionally excessive, turning each firefight into a sensory overload of color and chaos. Audio design follows the same philosophy—loud, exaggerated, and often comical. The sound effects of gunfire and explosions are accompanied by snippets of distorted voice lines and over-the-top music that fit perfectly within the game’s satirical frame. The presentation won’t impress anyone expecting high production values, but it has a kind of scrappy charm that works within its low-budget context. It’s a game that feels intentionally crude, as though its rough edges are part of the joke.
Where Lock Her Up struggles is in longevity and mechanical depth. Once the novelty of its concept wears off, the gameplay loop becomes repetitive. The lack of variety in weapons, enemies, and environments means that sessions start to feel similar after only a short time. The core shooting mechanics are solid enough for a budget indie title, but without progression systems or meaningful objectives beyond wave survival, the motivation to keep playing diminishes quickly. The game is clearly designed for short bursts of play—something to fire up with friends for a laugh rather than to invest serious time in. Its humor, too, risks overstaying its welcome; while initially amusing, the jokes lose their punch after extended play, especially for players who prefer subtle or intelligent satire over broad caricature.
Still, within its limited scope, Lock Her Up accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do. It’s a low-cost, politically absurd party game that thrives on its outrageous premise. The cooperative gameplay helps it shine brightest when enjoyed socially—when laughter and chaos feed off each other in real time. It’s easy to pick up, easy to laugh at, and just as easy to put down once the novelty fades. The developers at Three Guys Game Studio seem well aware of what they’ve made: not a polished masterpiece or a deep commentary, but a self-contained parody designed to entertain, offend, and amuse in equal measure. The fact that it manages to balance that tone without collapsing into complete incoherence is, in its own way, impressive.
Ultimately, Lock Her Up: The Trump Supremacy stands as a curiosity—a chaotic, politically charged indie game that’s more about humor and excess than substance. It’s crass, ridiculous, and far from refined, but it embraces those qualities unapologetically. Players who approach it expecting satire rather than sophistication will likely find it amusing for a session or two, especially with a friend in tow. Those seeking meaningful gameplay or nuanced commentary will find little to hold their attention. It’s a product of its moment, born from the intersection of politics, internet humor, and indie experimentation, and while it may not endure as a great game, it remains a memorable snapshot of absurd creativity unrestrained by convention.
Rating: 6/10
