Dispatch (2025): The Review

Overview

Dispatch is absolutely “phenomenal!” The weekly release cadence worked like a charm, pulling me into fan theories, community chatter, and all the delicious speculation that came with its sharp writing and magnetic characters. Yeah, the pacing drags here and there, and the illusion of choice cracks once you spot the rails beneath it, but the tight bond between story and gameplay, plus the clever way the plot loops back into the dispatch calls, kept me hooked. 

Score: 9 out of 10

The Positives ✅

Dispatch takes a superhero story that could have easily been generic and turns it into something surprisingly grounded and human. Every scene feels intentional, every line of dialogue hits just right, and the way the characters interact: sometimes heartfelt, sometimes dripping with sarcasm, is pure gold. The dispatch system itself is a clever touch, blending gameplay and narrative in a way that never feels forced, and it ties neatly into the themes of the game. Even the smaller, simpler segments still feel meaningful because they reinforce the world and the characters.

Visually, Dispatch is stunning. The cel-shaded art makes it look like a high-budget animated series you’d actually want to watch. Cinematic action sequences flow with smooth rhythm, and transitions during branching choices are seamless. Meanwhile, the audio work is top-notch. Voice actors bring every line to life, whether it’s dry humor or quiet vulnerability, and the inclusion of a Streamer Mode is a thoughtful bonus for anyone sharing the experience online.

Storytelling is another major win. The writing leans into absurdity and humor while still hitting emotional beats when it matters. Robert Robertson III, a.k.a. Mecha Man, feels real as a character despite the superhero trappings, and watching him navigate the SDN desk job makes for surprisingly compelling moments. The episodic structure, releasing one week at a time, rekindles that old-school Telltale energy where Wednesday felt like an event, bringing fans together to speculate, debate, and theorize. It’s a smart throwback that shows the format still works when done right.

The cast is phenomenal. Aaron Paul, Jeffrey Wright, and Erin Yvette elevate what could have been a typical superhero story into something with texture and humanity. Their performances make the dialogue pop, and even the smaller character beats feel alive because of how invested the actors are. Small touches, like the way dispatch missions reflect internal team tension, make the world feel lived-in and reactive.

Finally, $30 for all eight episodes feels fair. Each episode may only run an hour, but the quality of writing, voice work, and pacing ensures that time is well spent. It’s a solid mix of story and gameplay that delivers consistent engagement from start to finish.

The Negatives ⚠️

The pacing is uneven, especially in the middle episodes. Episodes 3 and 4 can feel sluggish, with the larger plot barely moving forward. Some narrative threads take hours to set up and then resolve in a blink, which makes the middle act feel padded. Dispatch calls are fun and add gameplay variety, but they can dominate the runtime to the point where the main story loses momentum. It’s not bad per se, but it does leave you wishing for more time spent on character moments outside the desk.

Choices, while fun, don’t always carry the weight you might expect. The classic Telltale “illusion of choice” is here, your decisions shape dialogue and short-term relationships but rarely alter the overall story. Even a completely different playthrough ends up in roughly the same place. Some plot twists are predictable, and a few emotional beats feel forced, as if characters acted that way simply to push the story forward. A few character dynamics in dispatch missions don’t always sync perfectly with the narrative, which can be jarring.

Replay value is limited. Once the story is done, there’s not much reason to return outside of minor choice variations. While the dispatch system is clever, there’s no dedicated story-free mode to let you keep playing with the Z-Team endlessly, a missed opportunity that could have extended the game’s lifespan.

The Experience 🎮

Playing Dispatch is an experience that’s hard to shake. From week one to the finale, the game keeps you invested with its sharp writing, strong humor, and emotional beats. Watching Robert and his ragtag team navigate both heroics and bureaucracy is oddly compelling, and the combination of dialogue, dispatch missions, and occasional quick-time events creates a rhythm that keeps you engaged. There’s a real sense of satisfaction when you see how even small choices ripple through relationships, even if the story itself marches to a predetermined beat.

The episodic release format made the game feel like an event. Each week, communities buzzed with theories, polls, and discussions. It brought back that old-school narrative game energy, the kind that made waiting for the next episode part of the fun. That sense of shared experience, coupled with the story’s mix of absurdity and earnest superhero moments, makes Dispatch feel like it could have easily existed as a TV show rather than a game.

Despite the pacing hiccups and predictable twists, the finale delivers. Episodes 7 and 8 are intense, emotional, and satisfying, making the entire journey worthwhile. By the end, you’re fully invested in the cast, leaning forward in your seat, hoping your choices helped everyone survive the chaos. The mix of narrative prompts, dispatch mechanics, and small gameplay systems like hacking minigames adds enough variety to keep it fresh without ever feeling tacked-on.

Overall, Dispatch proves that episodic storytelling in games isn’t dead. It’s smart, funny, emotional, and heartfelt, with gameplay that complements the narrative rather than distracting from it. Sure, there’s room to expand, longer episodes, more dispatch content, and a story-free mode would be welcome, but even as it stands, it’s a remarkable example of how superhero stories can be done differently, and done well.