Critapocalypse Podcast

Critapocalypse is a British review podcast built on a simple habit: two hosts sit down, say what they watched and played, and refuse to be diplomatic about any of it. The episode count is in the high two hundreds. The format is deliberately loose. Some weeks it is two reviews each, kept short. Other weeks it stretches into an end-of-year retrospective covering the whole twelve months. Games get genuine expertise. There is a stretch on Dragon Quest VII, its reputation among the series, the grind, and how the 3DS remake compares to the hundred-hour PlayStation version. A Switch 2 release is greeted less as excitement than as the end of the news section. Licensed shovelware aimed at children gets a passing kicking. Television gets equal weight. Stranger Things returns after three years and the hosts are grateful for the four-minute recap, then puzzled by a recast child actor. Star Trek continuity comes in for a long, affectionate untangling of which series is pulling threads from which. There is real admiration too, particularly for production craft: painting planes out of skies, clearing highways of traffic, emptying Las Vegas for a shot. Horror gets recommended on the strength of its bleakest escalations. Reality television gets the roughest handling, especially a dating format where contestants push back against being ranked. Running under all of it is the political figure of the week, a recurring segment that has settled on Donald Trump for long stretches. British politics gets its turn too, from election odds to AI-generated campaign imagery and the people who fall for it. Elon Musk and Donald Trump falling out is treated as the biggest cat fight of the year. None of this is analysis in a conventional sense. It is verdicts, delivered fast, with the reasoning showing. The two hosts have a well-worn rhythm, one often derailing the other mid-review, and neither pretends to have prepared. Sign-offs are abrupt and unedited, trailing into Lego plans, a flight to Heathrow, or a promise to review Dragon Quest next time. Language is unfiltered throughout and the political material is crude by design. What holds it together is consistency of taste and the sense of overhearing an ongoing conversation rather than being addressed by one.