Why ‘The Last of Us’ Is Destined to Divide
One of HBO’s most ambitious series of the past few years has quickly become one of its most controversial
For many watching The Last of Us, they still may not be aware of its origins. Based on the popular 2013 PlayStation series, also titled The Last of Us, it’s likely the most notable instance yet of a video-game-turned-TV-show achieving critical acclaim.
Historically, it’s been an exception rather than a rule for studios to funnel the proper care and resources into transferring these interactive tales to the big screen — or to our living rooms. It’s productions like HBO’s The Last of Us that are beginning to garner credibility for a medium that’s widely been stigmatized. The Super Mario Bros. Movie, Minecraft Movie, and the Sonic the Hedgehog trilogy have left notable impact craters, but do little to affirm the notion that games can offer real narrative depth.
Even as someone who’s harbored affection for video games since I was old enough to flip on my first Game Boy, it was hard not to buy into some of the societal stigmas and misperceptions around them. I thought throughout most of my life that there was limited terrain between the one-note, colorful Super Mario Brothers series and the wanton, mafia-styled violence of Grand Theft Auto. The Last of Us arrived for me as a revelation.
I was astonished to see for the first time that games could not only offer multi-dimensional stories, but that they could be so wildly involved and well-realized that they occasionally soar beyond the bulk of what’s on television and in theaters — that simply watching their plots progress could be much of the impetus behind my continued clicks.
For those already aware of the series’ completed arc, watching the story take on a new life outside of video game culture is a unique thrill. But there’s also a sobering pride in knowing where it ultimately leads.
On one hand, it’s a delight to see the broader world fall in love with a universe whose appreciation has thus far been reserved exclusively for gamers. Playing through the series, I was continually bowled over by what a travesty it is that such amazing stories could be trapped within an ecosystem that most people were unwilling to explore. Seeing the lore finally reach wider audiences is as righteous as it is overdue.
But on the other hand, it’s bittersweet to see a new generation that’s invested time and emotion into this world begin to wrestle with the same torturous plot twists that I confronted a few years earlier myself.
Just as The Last of Us was the first game that taught me all that a game could be on a narrative level, The Last of Us Part II was the first that shed light on just how much our critical standards have changed as gamers in the past few decades. As these virtual experiences have progressed from 2D planes with rudimentary pings to full-fledged 3D worlds with maps and soundtracks and expansive varieties of creatures and items, we’ve pried open wholly new parameters to examine and appraise — new criteria to judge each new title by and be divided over.
There are so many components on the rubric now that to offer players an incredible game with breathtaking visuals and a lived-in world is no longer always adequate; many have grown to expect the same quality of writing in these new releases as they do from the best TV shows or movies. Game developers can’t just enhance and expand gameplay, toss in a few new features, and stamp sequels “ready for release” as they could in the past. Sometimes meeting expectations requires a decade or more in production, as Grand Theft Auto VI has infamously shown.
Not only are the people involved with these major titles tasked with improving experiences that are already colossal, but writing cohesive enough narratives to make them worth happily wading through until completed. They operate under different constraints than the creators behind the Super Mario Brothers or Kirby franchises, who have been more or less given free rein to recycle the same story ad infinitum — just so long as the finished product reliably reaches the fun quota.
The Last of Us Part II achieved the discordant feat of building on the first iteration’s mechanics and world in every conceivable regard — all while leaving legions of fans fuming and fractured over its merciless plot. The original The Last of Us tells a story that many believe would have been best left untouched. Even if there was more to the story left to tell, what it provided gamers felt complete. It was the story that we saw adapted in season 1, and is much of what the early show owed its success to.
In recreating the story behind the series’ second game, The Last of Us’ showrunners were faced with a near-impossible challenge. They could have either portrayed some of the most controversial twists in the history of video games in an attempt to properly retell the story on HBO, or they could have preserved the charm that defined the first season and sacrificed faithfulness to the source material.
As the second season wears on, it’s clear that The Last of Us’ image has already been hampered by the series’ new direction. While HBO’s typical production value remains at the forefront, and so much of what defined the first season is still alive and well in each episode, I can’t help but feel as though the show is a walking corpse. Its darkest plot points are bound to disappoint and divide— even sicken.
No matter how well they’re depicted, appalling fans is all but inevitable. If showrunners choose to retell the story with a religious attention to detail, or if they diverge from it dramatically, huge swaths of viewers are bound to be disappointed all the same. The review-bombing campaign has already begun, and as people continue learning just what a brutal story The Last of Us is, I don’t expect this controversy or distaste to dwindle.
I’ve already watched fans walk away from the show in the aftermath of recent events. Some argue that its lifeblood has gone dry, and that prior, magnetic appeal only held strong through that first season. I watched people level the very same criticisms against the second game in the series, so this lambasting is all too familiar.
Neil Druckman’s story is as harrowing as they come. Whether HBO and director Craig Mazin can sufficiently sanitize it to suit the tastes of wider audiences — or win back the one it’s already lost — is a weighty gamble. But if Game of Thrones has taught us anything, it’s that gratuitous gore is no disqualifier for greatness. Despite being one of the most polarizing releases to ever hit store shelves, The Last of Us Part II actually went on to win The Game of the Year award in 2020.
Sometimes it seems that a certain level of shock and controversy has become an unfortunate prerequisite for narrative greatness. So many shows and movies that are considered near-mandatory viewing would exceed the sensibilities of prior generations.
Yet when we grow to care so much about the characters on screen, it’s often this realistic sense of stakes — and the disconcerting knowledge that no one is truly safe — that makes for the most satisfying immersion. It makes the viewing experience more personal. And it makes the grieving process when we lose the characters we love all the more painful.
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The golfing episode caused a ruckus