A glaring contradiction filled with moral quandaries that results in another Naughty Dog masterpiece led by game director, Neil Druckmann and actress Ashley Johnson.
One of my favorite quotes is Cato’s, “He who hesitates is lost.” A proverb that acknowledges the consequences of hesitation and how swift actions can lead to success. The core of this brief quote resides within the gameplay of Naughty Dog’s, The Last of Us Part 2. The sequel to 2013’s highly regarded, The Last of Us. A sequel that takes everything that Naughty Dog has built as a company and elevates it to newer, grander heights. All while finely tuning previously clunky mechanics alongside great motion capture performances to deliver a video game that pushes narrative storytelling in the medium light years ahead. A cornerstone of a generation of gaming, and a staple into the advancement of the medium.
Upon re-entering the atmosphere of TLOU2, our previous emotions are dug out and laid in front of us. A somber, overwhelmingly bleak reality of morally grey characters. A fine continuation of a great aspect from the previous game that takes its characters in unexpected directions immediately. Instead of adhering to what would make fans happy and ready to slap a purposeless 10/10 without challenge or reward, Naughty Dog and game director, Neil Druckmann, challenges our expectations of narrative storytelling by defying our attachment to the mold that has defined eye-rolling, fan-service sequels. All while harnessing so much meaning and power that works as a perfect compliment to the original game. A story energized by the obsession it has with identity, and how it’s gameplay serves as a contradiction by way of creating more depth for it’s conflicted reality it plays within.
From this point forward I’ll be tinkering with spoilers, but as most of you have already completed the game (or read about it), it shouldn’t be too big of a deal.
TLOU2 begins as a revenge story for Ellie. Having been saved by Joel at St. Mary’s hospital and denying the rest of the world a cure, Ellie leaves with her life, but Joel leaves with a checklist of consequences. No cure. Fireflies dead. Hiding the truth. Living in fear. It’s shortly into the game where Joel’s consequences of his actions quickly catch up to him, and the player is left in a state of panic and unrest. Uncertain of the game’s bold decision because of the concern that there will be no payoff. Thankfully, it pays off. What ensues is Ellie’s road to righting those who wronged her through bloodthirsty revenge. Visceral, unforgiving, and borderline villainous, Ellie leaves a trail of blood in her tracks with no remorse. Something as small as her muttering dialogue to a person dying in her grasp takes Ellie from the fan favorite darling of the first game, to a stone cold killer. Which showcases not only progress for the character amidst the circumstances she finds herself in, but a clear understanding of where they are pushing her.
Ellie’s half of the game is chaos. Actions are driven off emotion, dialogue furthermore, and hesitation is no option during gameplay. What is most crucial to the experience is Naughty Dog’s nearly perfected gameplay. Level design, world design, AI, NPCs, atmosphere, and more, TLOU2 operates as a sandbox for combat. The game opens up sprawling levels with various sightlines, routes, supplies, and enemies for you to choose how you want to experience the game. If you wish to open fire without breaking down enemy paths and quantity of obstacles in your path, you may, but it comes at the cost of not knowing just how many enemies are in your way. If you wish to sneak past enemies who chat about returning home from their patrol to play with their kid because you have a heart of gold, you may, but at the cost of being less adventurous. There is a consequence for every action, and although these actions don’t tip the scales of the narrative, it services the overarching theme of the two games. No matter our approach, whether filling up pools of blood or sneaking our way to freedom, there is an inescapable truth to the reality our characters are in. It’s unavoidable even if it contradicts your decisions in gameplay.
Which is where the story progresses around the halfway point of the game as it shifts perspective to what was thought to be the antagonist of the game, Abby. Abby, a W.L.F operative who we find lives in a stadium with a large faction of people thriving. Abby’s journey months after meeting with Ellie very much reflects each other at the beginning and end, but their journeys are on an entirely different course. They aren’t parallel with each other, but rather perpendicular. Characters who are headed in different directions, but heavily influenced by the others’ actions. These similarities between the two are short-lived and brief, and are soon to be victims of the world beyond their brief, peaceful bubble. Evident in flashbacks that both characters share at the end of each chapter open up more of the fleeting moments of tranquility that barely exist within a reality that doesn’t want it to. Both of their flashbacks exist as a means to service the same point, but more on that later.
Abby’s style of combat is hulking and brutish. More concerned with striking foes to the ground than carefully laying traps in the wake of gathering enemies’ attention. After perceiving Abby initially as a physically dominant character, it’s clear she lives a life by a code of biases from like-minded people despite her heart being just as big as her physical presence. This is shown through the game’s delightful, Lev and Yara. Two Seraphites (Scars if you’re a bigot) on the run whose people are in a cultural civil war with Abby’s, W.L.F. Lev and Yara allow the game to explore Abby’s humility, weaknesses, and strengths. For Abby her goal is complete within the first two hours of the game, the rest of her journey exists because she is a byproduct of the actions delivered by someone else’s hands. It’s a forcible way to get Abby to progress as a character, while simultaneously exploring the vast canvas beyond the immediate moments she is participating in. Her journey takes her farther and deeper behind enemy lines than Ellie’s ever does, but Abby leaves with a new outlook on people, and most importantly, herself. It’s a stark contrast to where Ellie’s journey concludes and how the two learn from one another because of the punishments dealt to each other.
The Last of Us 2 is a complicated, contradictory, morally complex and layered story. With a keen attention to detail, character, and world building. It’s a game that thrives off of establishing various cultures, outlooks on life amidst the circumstances, and the pain that comes with enduring the consequences of someone else’s actions. It’s a game about identity, not just for Ellie, Abby, Dina, and Joel, but for the NPCs you leave in the wake of your violent tear across Seattle. The “enemies” also have families, lives outside of patrolling housing complexes and tunnels beneath the Earth. They have names, purpose, goals, and an identity just as much as our lead characters. The Last of Us 2 takes the stranglehold of it’s reality and submerges it’s character beneath the pressures of action and consequence as they try to maneuver within the violent mazes of Seattle’s exhausting level design, music, and atmosphere. The game is anything but “depressing violence begets more depressing violence”. It’s a shallow and reductive take for a game that pushes the boundaries and expectations of storytelling in video games. It’s awe-inspiring, heartbreaking, tear-jerking, and pulsing with life and death scenarios around every corner. It’s just a shame to realize that the only reason we have to endure such a mentally exhausting game is because of Joel. Which is where I want to conclude this review.
Ellie and Abby are greatly affected by Joel’s decision at St. Mary’s Hospital when Joel chooses to save Ellie’s life instead of giving the world a cure. By the end of the game we realize that Joel removed meaning from one life, and gave meaning to another. For Ellie her perception of the father figure that delivered her across the United States shifted. The brave knight in shining armor is a selfish murderer who ripped life from one family to keep his. Perhaps a parallel or intersecting contradiction to how his story began? When we take a second and realize that this story exists solely because of Joel’s decision, our hearts break more when we realize that our protagonist isn’t actually a hero. He’s anything but. His decision to save Ellie ripped the cure to the infectious disease from the world that plunged into madness because of it. The lives we take in the game are lives that Joel could have saved. The pain Ellie endures and sanity she loses is because Joel chose himself over millions. Ellie’s life lost meaning and purpose and now she has to live with the burden of being the one that was supposed to save the world from a rampant, deadly disease that still rages on to this day. For Abby, the meaning and purpose that Ellie lost was given to her on her journey to bring justice to the man who took her family (and many others) away. Neil Druckmann and the team at Naughty Dog did anything but assassinate Joel’s character, because they used his character to influence this entire game and how we experience it. The depressing violence we endure is a direct consequence of Joel’s monumentally selfish decision, and if the end of the game didn’t paint it in bold enough letters, “If I had a second chance, I’d do it all over again.” A love for oneself, the cycle of violence continues because of it.
The Last of Us Part 2 is a masterpiece. An unforgiving tirade of complicated human emotions channeled through the outlet of violence. How one man’s hubris caused the continued death and destruction of the characters we meet and the world around them. How our lead characters find themselves unable to hesitate in the face of danger, but led to a point where a moment of slight hesitation can rekindle what little humanity they have left to make the right choice instead of losing themselves to the world Joel created when he made the wrong one.