Wolfenstein: The New Order is much like its protagonist: big, dumb, and ugly.
I am intrigued by Wolfenstein's alternate reality; it's fascinating to speculate on what would have happened had the so-called Third Reich won WWII. But this game pursues it only insofar as a reason for shooting, killing, and exploding Nazis. All of that, ultimately, is unrewarding as the thick-necked, fat-headed American protagonist tears his way across that overused linear path from point A to point B, through a vast, grey, flat wasteland, to yet another dull, cliched, laughable final boss. I'll never get those hours back.