Video games have been trying to compete with film for years. Some programmers hire top-shelf actors, create cinematic spectacles and chase Hollywood trinkets like a cartoon coyote chasing its prey. Games, trying to compete with film, often adopted the language of cinema. Shipping offers an alternative. Instead of imitating movies, it draws heavily on prestige television, presenting a character-driven narrative, slow-burn drama, and high emotional stakes that augment with each episode.
AdHoc Studio is still a newborn team, but it started out on a grand scale. Its first game proves that the senior Telltale adventure formula has never been broken; it just needed rewriting. Dispatch is a compelling interactive drama that’s like watching a stylish up-to-date superhero series. And in this case, the writing is the biggest star.
Dispatch’s narrative captivated me from the very first minutes. The story follows Robert Robertson, the third in a long line of technologically advanced heroes who go by the name Mecha Man. When Robert’s powerful mech suit is destroyed during a disastrous mission, Robert is forced to rethink his life choices and eventually joins a superhero shipping network. As you might guess from the name, SDN is an organization run by superheroes tasked with dispatching heroes to emergencies throughout the city.
Now at his desk, Robert’s life quickly turns into a tightrope as he deals with crises behind the scenes, combining office politics, a broken ego and a cluttered love life. It’s a refreshing take on the senior superhero tropes, focusing on bureaucracy and convoluted relationships rather than grand spectacle – although there are some spectacular fights along the way. The lyrics balance sardonic workplace humor with straightforward heart; I laughed out deafening listening to Robert’s stern conversations with the other characters.
Choices in Dispatch flow as naturally as conversation. Fortunately, none of the options flash “good” or “bad” like a neon sign; everything feels grounded and human…well, superhuman. Dispatch’s choices consistently forced me to think about their consequences. I actually had to pause the game when asked if I wanted to reveal my secret identity to a reformed villain who despised Mecha Man but didn’t know I was behind the machine. Not every decision carries that much weight, and the choices don’t radically change the overall plot, but I didn’t care because the larger narrative felt so solid. Instead, these smaller choices quietly change relationships, background events, and shape your ending. These rippling effects made me want to start a second game as the credits rolled to see how things would swing the other way.
The main diversification of the gameplay is the mission assignment system, in which we send heroes into the field and deal with matters from behind the desk. These sequences take you to the city’s command center, where you’re tasked with dealing with bizarre emergencies: saving a farmer from a bee attack, tracking down a science experiment that’s escaped, or calming down an furious kaiju. The tasks seem elementary, but the challenge is their inherent ambiguity; I never really knew the threat level of each mission or the ideal team size to send. This uncertainty pushes you to constantly gamble with your team. Do you send fewer heroes and risk the quest failing, or do you commit too many resources and face the risk of running out of staff later? The system is a little sloppy, but it perfectly captures the feeling of being stuck behind a desk while all the action is happening elsewhere. Like my love life in college, it’s all strategy, no time on the field.
Shipping is not a triumph of mechanical innovation. It doesn’t reinvent the narrative adventure game, but it doesn’t pretend to, either. On the other hand, it’s one of the most compelling interactive dramas of recent years, an animated superhero story for adults with the emotional punch of prestige television and a truly dazzling script. I didn’t want to stop playing just because I wanted to know what would happen next; I kept playing because I cared who it was with.
