Why did The Last of Us succeed where decades of video game movies failed?
The answer is simple: television gives stories room to breathe. The Last of Us had nine episodes to develop Joel and Ellie’s relationship. A movie would have crammed their entire emotional arc into 90 minutes between action sequences. The HBO series took time for quiet character moments, backstory episodes, and world-building that made the post-apocalyptic setting feel lived-in rather than just a backdrop for zombie fights.
Fallout proved this wasn’t a fluke. Amazon’s adaptation spent eight episodes exploring the series’ dark humour, moral complexity, and retro-futuristic aesthetic. The show could dedicate entire scenes to explaining Vault-Tec’s corporate evil or exploring what pre-war America looked like. A two-hour movie would have reduced Fallout to generic post-nuclear wasteland action with maybe one vault as a set piece.
Games are long-form entertainment. Most story-driven games take 20-60 hours to complete. Players spend dozens of hours with these characters, exploring these worlds, understanding the lore and mythology. Movies compress that experience into a highlight reel that strips away everything that made the source material compelling.
The pacing difference is fundamental. Games let players control the rhythm of story progression. You can spend hours exploring side content, talking to NPCs, or just absorbing the atmosphere. Television mirrors this structure better than films. TV episodes can slow down for character development, speed up for action sequences, and dedicate entire instalments to backstory or world-building without feeling like detours from the main plot.
Budget allocation works better for TV adaptations too. A $100 million movie budget gets spread across two hours, demanding constant spectacle to justify the cost. A $100 million TV series can spread that money across 8-10 hours, allowing for more practical sets, better writing, and character development that doesn’t compete with expensive action sequences for screen time.
TV writers understand serialized storytelling in ways that most movie writers don’t. Games are inherently episodic experiences with save points, level progression, and story beats that mirror television structure. The Last of Us episodes corresponded roughly to game chapters, letting the adaptation follow the source material’s natural rhythm instead of forcing everything into a three-act movie structure.
The creative team commitment differs too. TV showrunners typically work on projects for multiple years across several seasons. They have incentive to understand the source material deeply and build sustainable creative processes. Movie directors often treat video game adaptations as one-off projects, learning just enough about the source to fake their way through production.
Audience expectations align better with television too. TV viewers accept slower builds, character-focused episodes, and complex mythology that unfolds over time. Movie audiences expect immediate payoffs, clear protagonists, and resolved conflicts within two hours. Games rarely work that way. Most game stories are about gradual character growth, world exploration, and evolving relationships that need time to develop properly.
The financial model makes more sense for TV. Streaming services want content that keeps subscribers engaged for months, not just one viewing session. A successful game adaptation can run for multiple seasons, building audience investment over time. Movies need to succeed immediately or they’re considered failures.
Critics and audiences respond differently to TV adaptations too. The Last of Us and Fallout received serious critical attention as television drama, not just as novelty adaptations. TV critics understand serialized storytelling and character development. Movie critics often dismiss video game adaptations before seeing them, expecting shallow action movies with thin plots.
The format flexibility of television suits games perfectly. Some episodes can focus on action, others on character development, still others on world-building or backstory. Movies are locked into a single tone and pacing throughout the entire runtime.
Television proved that video game adaptations can work when given appropriate time, budget, and creative respect. The medium was never the problem. The format was.
So here’s my question: now that TV has cracked the code for successful game adaptations, why are studios still trying to cram beloved franchises into two-hour movies?
