Recap of ‘Fallout’ Season 2, Episode 8: Departure from Las Vegas

The hit series Fallout has created a unique challenge for itself by delivering a second season that surpassed its impressive debut with sharper wit, bolder visuals, and enhanced humor. Given this track record, expectations for the season finale were naturally sky-high. Despite these lofty anticipations, there was little doubt that Fallout would rise to the occasion.

However, the Season 2 finale of Fallout leaves a somewhat anticlimactic aftertaste. The episode fell short by deferring numerous payoffs, keeping several secrets under wraps, and stretching some storylines a bit too thin. While the content remains strong, there’s a lingering feeling that the series stopped just shy of achieving true greatness.

Directed by Frederick E.O. Toye and penned by Karey Dornetto, the finale keeps viewers engaged with its fast-paced narrative. The action swiftly moves between various characters, locations, and even time periods, ensuring that the momentum never falters. By the episode’s conclusion, the rapid transitions keep audiences captivated with compelling action sequences featuring characters whose outcomes genuinely matter to the viewers.

In a climactic showdown, Lucy MacLean faces off against her father, Hank. It’s revealed that Hank is now directly allied with the Enclave, the orchestrators of the apocalypse and the chaos that ensued. These are the same ominous figures that Robert House and Barb Howard had warned Coop about before disaster struck.

Hank attempts to implant a miniaturized mind-control chip into Lucy, nearly invisible to detect, to exert his influence over her. However, the unexpected arrival of the Ghoul, who is also navigating Vault-Tec’s Vegas facility, disrupts his plans. The Ghoul eliminates Hank’s accomplice, wounds Hank, and hands Lucy a gun, allowing her to decide her treacherous father’s fate.

Instead, she decides to chip him instead, demanding answers before she lobotomizes him. Then he reveals that he’s already sent out countless chipped and brainwashed servants into the Wasteland already, doing the bidding of the Enclave…whatever that might be. 

Then he switches on his own chip and wipes out his memories. Lucy realizes the father she knew, for all his faults, is now dead. It doesn’t feel like a victory.

As for the Ghoul, he finds his family’s cryo-chambers with the help of Robert House, whose digital self the Ghoul awakens using the cold-fusion diode as a power source. But the chambers are empty — except for a postcard left behind by his wife Barb long ago, indicating that she and their daughter Janey fled to Colorado. 

Convinced they’re still alive — perhaps they’re with the Enclave? — the Ghoul reunites with his dog and heads east, happier than we’ve ever seen him in Ghoul form.

His flashbacks help us piece together what went wrong in Vegas to set up the calamity to come. The President himself must have been an agent of the Enclave, because Coop is arrested by the House Unamerican Activities Committee the day after the handoff. 

His ally, Congresswoman Welch, is reduced to that head in a jar connected to the computers that program the mind-control chips. She was selected to be the basis of the victims’ reformatted minds for her kind, non-threatening, do-gooding personality. In the episode’s most uncomfortable scene, she pitifully begs Lucy to mercy-kill her.

In the end, he and Barb are loyal to one another. She really did want to betray her masters and save the world; Coop tells her he’ll testify she had nothing to do with anything, that it was all his idea. Now we know why they got the divorce — for appearances’ sake — and how Coop got his new reputation as a pinko.

Norm MacLean is rescued from a lynching by the nefarious Bud’s Buds when they are attacked by a swarm of giant cockroaches. Like something out of Alien: Earth, the bugs go for the jugular, killing everyone but Norm and Claudia. He puts her on a sledge to return to their home, the vaults, which he knows are set to be subject to some terrible experiment.

The experiment, known as Phase 2, is kicked off by none other than Stephanie. In Coop’s flashbacks, we learn that the one-eyed vengeance-seeking Canadian refugee became one of the cryogenically frozen Bud’s Buds by seducing and marrying Hank MacLean before the bombs dropped. (Yes, Hank’s a bigamist on top of everything else.) 

Opening Hank’s secret briefcase, Stephanie straps on a fancy-seeming Pip-Boy that connects her directly to the Enclave in their snowy mountain redoubt. Before he wipes out his personality, Hank says that for the Enclave, the surface world is the real experiment, not the vaults. This suggests a conspiracy vaster or more powerful than even the corporate cabal that hastened the world’s destruction. 

Maximus pretty much just spends the episode battling deathclaws, while the locals place bets on his survival. He’s saved by Thaddeus, who snipes a few monsters one-handed by using his toes to steady his rifle. Eventually he’s reduced to facing off against the beasts with a roulette-wheel shield and pool-cue spear, like a true knight of old. This time around he’s rescued from certain death by the soldiers of the New California Republic, an aging bunch who show up in force led by that woman Lucy ran into a while back. 

They arrive none to soon. The Legion soldier played by Macaulay Culkin winds up coming out on top of the groups brutal internecine power struggle. When he discovers that the former Caesar’s will dictates that there will be no more Caesars and that the Legion dies with him, he simply eats the document and claims the laurel crown anyway. 

All the surviving soldiers flock to his banner and he leads them on an invasion of New Vegas. His goal: to build Caesar’s Palace. (This is a joke bad enough for prime Mel Brooks, and I mean that as a high compliment.) Reunited outside the casino, Maximus and Lucy head to Robert House’s suite (he’s powered himself down but he’s still a ghost in the machine) and watch the troops roll in, holding hands. That’s the end of our adventure in Vegas, for now.

Is this really the ideal place for this season to call it a day? Emotionally, all the characters we care about achieved some catharsis or earned some grace, and that’s certainly satisfying. Teasing the Enclave again but not showing us what they’re up to or who’s in charge; setting Hank’s secret plan in motion but not telling us what it is; setting the stage for a war for New Vegas between the NCR and the Legion, with deathclaws running amok in the bargain, but not firing a shot; triggering Phase 2 but not actually implementing it…It’s hard not to feel that this episode underdelivered relative to what it could have given us. I understand the value of cliffhangers, but this feels more like they ran up to the edge of the cliff and just stopped.

Even so, this is a relatively minor criticism of a very strong second season. The obvious star power of Ella Purnell, Walton Goggins, and Kyle MacLachlan as Lucy, the Ghoul/Coop, and Hank fuels this thing like the diode fuels Robert House’s computer brain. Having the less charismatic characters like Maximus and Norm just straight-up fight monsters to the death makes their storylines as exciting as that core group’s, if less emotionally involving. There’s still room for very funny, very broad satire, like when the Vaulties who’ve surrounded Steph’s office suddenly start chanting DEATH TO MANAGEMENT, fully radicalized in a matter of minutes. 

And everything feels big. Big skies, big vistas, big city, big underground vault, shot at angles or with a swirling movement that emphasizes the scale. The protracted monster fights are visceral and fun in a creature-feature way; you get the feeling that if this show could somehow work actual kaiju combat into things, it would. (Surely there’s a Godzilla lumbering around the wasteland somewhere, right?) As always, every tonal shift feels natural, like commentary on the other tones present in the show, rather than just a way to jerk the audience around.

It takes real skill to pull off this wild balancing act. Fallout makes it look easy. While the finale didn’t deliver everything it promised, the show’s promise remains undimmed.

Sean T. Collins (@seantcollins.com on Bluesky and theseantcollins on Patreon) has written about television for The New York Times, Vulture, Rolling Stone, and elsewhere. He is the author of Pain Don’t Hurt: Meditations on Road House. He lives with his family on Long Island.