How Lucy MacLean and Her “Okey Dokeys” Became Fallout’s Secret Weapon

ISSUE NO. 35

Stay weird, you sex positive little wonder.

Updated:

Apr 13, 2024 3:05 pm

Posted:

Apr 13, 2024 3:00 pm

Streaming Wars is a weekly opinion column by IGN’s Streaming Editor, Amelia Emberwing. This one contains spoilers for Fallout Season 1. If you’re not caught up yet, go check out the previous entry Dead Boy Detectives Ending Up At Netflix Is Proof That Sometimes Things Work Out.

Earnest characters are hard. They’re hard to write in a way that they don’t become walking contradictions, and they’re hard to perform in a way that feels genuine. Magnify that significantly when you drop said earnest character smack dab in the middle of an apocalypse, and that’ll leave you with Ella Purnell’s Lucy.

Prime Video’s Fallout series is founded on juxtaposition — futuristic but classic; pleasantville surrounded by wastelands; niceties covering atrocities, etc. — but, for me, none of these are more interesting than Lucy MacLean.

A lot of Lucy’s characteristics can be boiled down to naivete, which is neither new nor interesting in and of itself. What makes her such a clever character is that she actually believes what she is saying, and that she continues to fight for it even after entering the hardened, complicated, and deeply messy real world. The Overseers founded their new world in the vaults to cover up the unspeakable act of ending the old one, leaning into niceties and feigned kindness to benefit their totalitarian intentions. But Lucy grew up in the next generation. One that had the opportunity to actually buy into the crap that Vault-Tec was selling without the baggage of being an actual, literal villain.

That logic would lead you to believe that her next-gen counterparts share her ideals, but that’s not quite true either. The running theme among the other occupants of Vault 33 is cowardice. Younger brother Norm (Moises Arias) is deeply inquisitive but hides during the raid and is too afraid to enter the wasteland; ex-lover-and-also-cousin Chet (Dave Register) is happy to flee the complications of Vault 33 despite knowing what the Overseers did to the old Vault 32; the council is made up of Woody (Zach Cherry) and Reg (Rodrigo Luzzi) — both too terrified to stand up for themselves or against Betty (Leslie Uggams), who is actually from Vault 31; and Lucy’s best friend Stephanie (Annabel O’Hagan) is the odd Vault 31 transfer who hasn’t been made Overseer… yet. The transfer to Vault 32 all but guarantees that will shortly become Stephanie’s domain rather than the terrified Woody’s.

And then there’s Lucy. Scared but brave anyway; naive but ready to learn; built on prejudices that she is ready to confront; and ready to grow but unwilling to sacrifice her core beliefs in order to do so. The joyous sex positivity doesn’t hurt either!

A huge part of my fascination with Lucy — and similar though more fantastical characters like Steve Rogers, Clark Kent and Kara Danvers — is rooted in my belief that surface-level niceness has no value, but being kind is the most important thing that a person can be. Grand personalities and reputation will never matter more than character, and in a society that puts such strong value on both of the former, the latter is rarely celebrated in the way that it should be.

Nicety? Pointless. Character? Critical.

The thing about me is that I’m a cynical asshole. I’d go the way of Fallout’s Ghoul (Walton Goggins) or The Last of Us’ Frank (Nick Offerman) basically immediately in an apocalypse scenario. Firefly’s Malcolm Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) line of “I look out for me and mine, that don’t include you ‘less I conjure it does” has served me well in life. While none of those characters – the Ghoul, Frank, or Mal – lend themselves to being kind on the surface, all of them either started out that way or end up doing the right thing in the end. Nicety? Pointless. Character? Critical.

So, when a protagonist ends up being both nice and kind, I can’t help but find myself a little wrapped up in their world. Folks who actually know what “bless your heart” means will catch my drift here.

While Lucy doesn’t have the fantastical elements of the Captain Americas or the Kryptonians of the world, she is immediately crammed into an impossible scenario that challenges every aspect of life that she has ever known. Personality-wise, we see her grow throughout Season 1 as she learns not to trust every wastelander she meets. But, throughout all of those challenges, her integrity remains intact.

She stands up to her father, Hank (Kyle MacLachlan), even though the easiest route would be to simply return to Vault 33 and go back to her perfect, idyllic life. Instead, Lucy chooses to follow the Ghoul to find answers and better understand the world around her.

There’s a moment early on in the season when the Ghoul tells Lucy “I’m you,” insisting the young woman will yet be morphed by the wasteland into a monster. But, so far as Season 1 is concerned, Lucy is still insistent on proving him wrong. Of course, Lucy didn’t lose everything in the way that Cooper Howard did all those years ago, but that’s part of what makes the two’s dynamic so interesting. The monster sees the remnant of the person he once was, and Lucy sees the perceived eventuality that she has to actively choose not to become.

Season 1 of Fallout closes with a ton of intrigue for what’s awaiting our protagonists in New Vegas but, for me, I’m the most engaged with how Lucy’s character will be challenged. So long as the kindness remains intact, I’m along for the ride.