Brace for Impact: 'Grand Theft Auto 6' Is Coming

By now, you probably already know. The launch of what many are predicting will be the biggest video game of all time is just months away: Grand Theft Auto 6. The question isn’t whether it’ll sell. It’s how deeply it’ll embed itself in the culture for years to come.

Anticipation's been building for more than a decade. GTA V feels like a lifetime ago, and fans are frothing at the mouth. This isn’t just a game release—it’s an event. Leaked footage (including reports of a nudist colony within the game) has become big news. Netflix has secured an exclusive early window for the franchise's next major preview, and some are wondering whether the streaming giant can handle the crush of viewers — millions of people, watching together, for a game most of them will end up playing alone.

So, yeah, it's a big deal.

The series began modestly, but it didn’t become what we know today until Grand Theft Auto 3 in 2001. I remember the buzz, but I didn’t buy it at launch. Then a friend described it as “playing Pulp Fiction,” and that was all I needed to hear. The idea of committing heinous crimes and acting like a complete sociopath from the safety of my sad futon sounded oddly compelling. I drove my maroon Dodge Stratus to Best Buy, handed over my cash, and raced home to play.

I don’t want to sound like Grandpa Simpson, but back then, kids, there really was nothing like it. You could go almost anywhere, do almost anything. It wasn’t linear. Carjackings, bazookas, random brawls — it was all on the table. There were even in-game radio stations with bizarre DJs. I’d been playing games for years, and this was one of the few times I remember feeling genuinely stunned.

But there was another sensation, too. I knew the game was satire — a funhouse mirror held up to America, all excess and irony. Knowing that didn't help. There I was, grinning as I plowed through firetrucks and evaded an army of cops. That discomfort sharpened when my two roommates walked in and saw what I was doing. I don’t recall the exact exchange, just the core of it: them looking perplexed, asking why this was fun, and me fumbling for an answer beyond, “I don’t know. It just is.”

Now comes Part 6. There’s never been a game this anticipated. I’ll play, no doubt. But I’m not eager to do it in front of anyone.