It’s a big boy, gunslingers, but not a great boy. Wasteland 3 is okay, passable, middling. It should be commended for its sheer heft, its days-long bulkiness no doubt welcome in the face of our own ongoing apocalypse, but that doesn’t make its writing any less puerile, nor its combat any less uninspired. For some, this in-jokey game of tactics and chin-wagging will fill a vacant space in life, multiple evenings of rambling nostalgia-heavy roleplay echoing the Fallouts and Wastelands of yesteryear. But for others like me, it’s a vestigial fragment of a reanimated genre, a game with by-the-numbers battling that wears thin long before its consequence-baiting storytelling has the chance to pop.
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