In 2025 alone, there have been four major superhero movies and over ten TV shows related to major superhero franchises. And amidst all that, it’s fair to say that people are starting to feel fatigued by the genre — whether it’s the shockingly formulaic design Marvel has started leaning into, or DC rebooting yet again. And while plenty of superhero media is still finding success, it’s getting harder and harder to stand out — and even when something does, keep that momentum going. That’s exactly what makes Dispatch such a surprise, not just because it brings back the narrative trappings of Telltale Games, but because it also manages to neatly sidestep nearly all of that superhero fatigue. It’s one of the most refreshing hero stories we’ve seen in years, and the longer I’ve thought about it the more I start to understand why. It reminds me of the strong debut of one of my other favorite series — My Hero Academia.
When Kohei Horikoshi’s My Hero Academia manga debuted in 2014, it felt like a revelation. That same year the Marvel Cinematic Universe was hitting its fever pitch with Guardians of the Galaxy and Captain America: Winter Soldier, creating the perfect opportunity for something else to capitalize on the superhero craze — and My Hero Academia did. And that’s largely because of how My Hero grounded its story, how it mixed the fantastical with the mundane.
Dispatch’s main focus is on the internal strugglers and relationships of its main cast, and how living in a superhero world have informed both of those things.
More than anything, My Hero (at least in the early days) cared about exploring the idea of how a superhero society would work. What kind of organization would heroes have in the government, how would they interface with the police, and how does society, from schools to social work, adapt when everyone has powers? All of that is explored through the viewpoint of students at U.A. High School, using the trope of teenage Shonen heroes to subvert the superhero genre in some truly brilliant ways. I might have some problems with where the series has ultimately gone, but much of the series’ exploration of superhero society still, to this day, feels exceptional. And that all came at a time where other superhero media was trying to explore the psyche and psychology behind heroes.
Dispatch, similarly, feels like an exploration of the surprising mundanity of a superhero world — of the daily work grind that would still need to happen, even when some people can shoot laser beams. To that end, Dispatch combines the tropes of superhero tales with a workplace comedy in the vein of The Office, where most of the “action” takes place in office cubicles and break rooms.
But similarly to My Hero’s Izuku Midoriya, Dispatch’s main character has a direct stake in the world, and a unique viewpoint. Like Deku Robert is powerless, but the interesting twist is that he’s the inheritor to the family business of being Mecha Man — he essentially inherits becoming Iron Man. But after the suit gets damaged, the powerless Robert ends up with a sort of mid-life crisis, no longer knowing what his purpose is. He then gets recruited by a legendary hero named Blonde Blazer, to work as a dispatcher at the Superhero Dispatch Agency. And by dispatcher I mean that literally, like a 9-1-1 call center but for superheroes. The catch is that Robert is working specifically on something known as the Phoenix Project, rehabilitating former villains to become heroes.
Seeing the “downtime” of superheroes is something Dispatch really excels at — not an entirely original idea, but one the game does well.
The brilliance of Dispatch is how it embraces those mundane elements, and weaves them together with richly written characters. Dispatch’s story explores each character’s place in the world, and how the superhero society has molded them — from Invisigal feeling like she was “destined” to be a villain due to her powers, to how fame as a popstar adversely affected Prism.
While you do have an overarching narrative, Dispatch is more concerned about the interpersonal relationships of its ensemble cast — using said relationships to help flesh out the worldbuilding and universe. That’s where the game has the most in common with My Hero and why it largely succeeds as a superhero piece. So much superhero media gives us a world filled with colorful characters, but Dispatch gives us strong characters and world that we see through their eyes. That’s why it’s so important that the game’s story feels grounded and relatable — you need to be able to connect with these characters. And it’s the little moments that make the game shine, like Robert not being able to get the vending machine working, someone else breaking it, which then cuts to Robert returning to his desk with an armful of snacks.
Of course, all of this wouldn’t work without strong writing, which Dispatch does manage to largely nail by adapting a interesting blend of tones — seesawing between genuine and early 2000s edginess. It’s a chance that AdHoc Studio takes by giving Dispatch an array of crude humor, sex jokes, and intentional cringe. The game comes dangerously close to being too much at times, but more often than not, manages to straddle the line effectively. In a way, it almost feels like a blend of something like My Hero and The Boys, a genuine care for the idea of friendship and kindness mixed with a cynical sense of humor.
Dispatch emphasizes its mundanity with a strategy minigame, quite literally putting you into the role of the guy in the chair sidekick.
But perhaps what’s most amazing is that Dispatch manages to really stick the landing. The game sets up a compelling world, meanders through it with a workplace comedy, and then manages to deliver an emotional punch. It’s easy to see a case where Dispatch could have fallen apart in the last two episodes, and while there are some flaws, the game succeeds by staying grounded in the character drama — doubling down on that it’s done best the whole time. It’s an ending that feels meaningful to your interpretation of Robert as a character, even if the choices you make don’t have huge effect on how the whole thing plays out. And it equally leaves the door open for more.
But after spending a dozen hours with the world of Dispatch, I can’t help but find myself thinking about how much more I want. It’s the kind of story that I’d read any spinoff comic book, or tune in every week for an animated adaption. And a huge part of that is because of the game’s narrative focus, how it transforms the Telltale Games formula into something new and distinct. And in so doing, recaptures the magic of why we all love superheroes in the first place — because of how they’re reflections of the best and worst elements of humanity, and everything in between.
Dispatch knows what makes superheroes tick, and all I hope now is that it doesn’t stop here.
