'Fallout' makes for delightfully twisted, post-apocalyptic fun

It's a little odd and more than a little unsettling that two of the best game adaptations in recent memory - this and 'The Last of Us' - are preoccupied by the end of the world as we know it.

In both instances, the apocalypse is shown in stark and vivid detail early on. In 'The Last of Us', the sense of foreboding is palpable and the end is grimly inevitable. We merely have to sit and wait for it, because it's coming no matter what. Yet in 'Fallout', we see everyone trying to ignore it and only making any kind of an effort when the mushroom clouds start appearing over Los Angeles. If there's a gallows' humour in that prospect, 'Fallout' finds it immediately and makes it more weird, violent, and twisted than you can probably imagine.

That's one of the most enjoyable aspects of 'Fallout', and something that Jonathan Nolan - brother of Oscar-winner Christopher - has preserved in full from the game and accurately translated into this adaptation. The game is noted for its bleak and twisted comedy, revelling in the maddening spectacle of arch-fascists trying to control what's left of a blackened cinder and the maniacs who think anything of the old world is worth preserving. Caught between them are hapless people just trying to make their way across the wastelands. Story-wise, 'Fallout' smartly eschews trying to adapt specific storylines or side-quests from any of the games, but rather concocts a new one set in the rich and familiar landscape.

Without giving too much away, the first four episodes we were shown focuses on a trio of characters - a vault-dweller, a novitiate of the Brotherhood of Steel, and a 200-year-old mutant ghoul who's also a bounty hunter - as they seek out a mysterious stranger, and something buried in his head. Literally. Ella Purnell plays Lucy MacLean, said vault-dweller, while her father is played by a very Dale Cooper-adjacent Kyle MacLachlan. Although Walton Goggins is no stranger to a Stetson, here he's playing a particularly vicious variety of cowboy and doing it under a ton of makeup. Aaron Moten, meanwhile, zeroes in on all of the long-winded, blow-hard virtues of the Brotherhood.

Again, what showrunner Jonathan Nolan has captured so well is the tone and the vital mixture of hope and cynicism that makes 'Fallout' so interesting. MacLachlan and Purnell's characters look and sound like they've walked off the set of a Ronald Reagan movie, while Walton Goggins' good old cowboy carries off the makeup with a swagger befitting a veteran performer. Beyond these sharply realised performances, however, is a fascinating blend of psychology and world-building. In 'Fallout', there's a real sense of how varied the world after is, and how there's such a possibility for this thing to run and run if audiences embrace the weirdness of it. Some of the characters are hopeful and life-affirming, but also embittered and downright misanthropic.

There's a keen sense of design, with many locations, costumes, and even music cues lifted from the games, but it's not placed in such a way as to distract viewers or keep out those who never played any of the 'Fallout' games. If anything, 'Fallout' takes direct inspiration from the same sources as the game itself - Kubrick's 'Dr. Strangelove', LQ Jones' apocalyptic classic 'A Boy And His Dog', and naturally, George Miller's 'Mad Max' - but all with its own flavour and style. Of the four episodes we saw, 'Fallout' moves a steady clip with plenty more to come in the remaining four and further beyond to the next season, which is almost certain to happen.

Darkly funny, vividly realised, and with a talented cast that's game for the setting and story, 'Fallout' is going to delight those played the games just as those who haven't.

All eight episodes are available on Prime Video from April 11th.