Based on the video game of the same name, The Last of Us continues to be a moving and devastating post-apocalyptic drama centred on how retribution leads to a cycle of violence and pain.
★★★★☆
SPOILER WARNING: This article contains spoilers for season two of The Last of Us.
Set five years after season one, The Last Of Us re-establishes the world of Ellie (Bella Ramsey) and Joel (Pedro Pascal) after their odyssey across the infected US landscape ended in the brutal killing of the Fireflies. Even though the characters find safety within the walled city of Jackson, the time jump between seasons shows us the lingering consequences of Joel’s actions.
A confident pace is set from the start, though there are hints that the semblance of normality in the community cannot last. From the outset, the cinematography leans into the cinematic qualities of the game and constructs an environment that is simultaneously vast and claustrophobic. This grounds the narrative in a gritty realism, one which showcases the characters’ grief and hopelessness. Pascal’s performance is a standout draw of the season as he expertly emphasises Joel’s underlying guilt. This is most engaging during a scene with whiskey-chugging therapist Gail (Catherine O’Hara) where he masks his guilt by complaining about Ellie’s teenage moodiness. O’Hara directly counters his manner by calling out the suspicion of an unspoken betrayal, a contrast which highlights how Pascal captures Joel’s complex vulnerability. It is this aspect of performance which emphasises Joel’s inability to confront why his and Ellie’s bond has weakened, driving forward the early episodes.
However, the story’s brutal nature is reinforced to the audience when Joel is beaten to death by the newly-introduced Abby (Kaitlyn Dever) in episode two. This cruelty bolsters the compelling post-apocalyptic setting, engaging viewers via a morbid curiosity. Abby’s coldness when committing this act exemplifies how violence permeates the survivors’ lives, a crucial part of the narrative. It is particularly effective because her motive is not hidden, rather it is established from the first scene of the season. Specifically, Abby’s father was a Fireflies surgeon murdered by Joel, though the writers positioned her revenge arc as one which could span the entire season. This deliberate red herring was effectively used to create one of the most intense scenes of the season. For those who have played the game, Joel’s death was no surprise but the writers still used it to the narrative’s advantage. An unbearable building of dread occurred as the episode progressed, filling scenes of violence with a resigned inevitability. Through this, it was established that though the Fireflies murder was driven by Joel’s love for Ellie, it was ultimately an act which would not go unpunished.
From here, Ramsey is joined by love interest Dina (Isabela Merced) on Ellie’s quest for vengeance. The performance of Merced is a compelling contrast to Ramsey, with Dina’s initial positivity countering Ellie’s cynical introspection. As the pair leave Jackson, the world around them becomes increasingly hostile but the tone of the season is kept predominantly balanced. Mostly, it manages to avoid the trap of becoming ceaselessly bleak with thoughtful storytelling and some character development. But it is here where issues start to arise and the pacing falters.
There are moments where Ellie is portrayed as easy-going even after witnessing Joel’s death, making it hard to accept that the character has become encompassed by a vengeful nature. Due to this, Ellie appears to be a passenger to her own actions despite a strong performance from Ramsey. The development of her anger in the season works most effectively by the placement of a flashback episode, which shows Joel celebrating Ellie’s birthday, and the finale, where her search for Abby concludes. The inclusion of profound moments between Ellie and Joel emphasises her lost innocence in the present, serving to demonstrate how far the character will go into dangerous and irresponsible territory. This is where the strength of The Last of Us lies as a TV show, as the corrupting violence of the post-apocalyptic setting bleeds into each characters’ happiness.
The finale encapsulates this recklessness as Ellie is joined by Jesse (Young Mazino), a character who opposes her view on the purpose of community. A fight between the two ultimately leads to Abby’s return, which features a particularly impactful moment when Dever imbues palpable disbelief in the line “but I let you live!” when threatening Ellie. However, instead of letting the horror of the scene linger, it cuts to Abby several days earlier. Here, it is made exceedingly obvious that Abby’s story will be told in season three and it becomes apparent that showrunners Neil Druckmann and Craig Mazin do not wholly trust audiences to decipher what may happen themselves. This has crept in through the pacing of the season, with scenes and character relationships feeling underdeveloped or rushed because of it. Another prominent example of this is when an infected hoard penetrates the walls of Jackson whilst Joel is murdered, a sequence which should be its own tension building moment. The story does become weakened because of this issue, trading subtlety and ambiguity for overt explanations.
Whether season three can successfully subvert the image of Abby as a villain and encourage audiences to root for her remains to be seen. Dever’s screen presence was captivating and the character demanded complete attention. Much of the season’s success was anchored by the performances of Pascal and Ramsey, meaning the writers must continue to balance the emotional weight of Abby’s story with her violent acts to avoid repeating the same rushed pacing.
The Verdict
The Last of Us season two is set in a well-crafted and immersive world, with strong performances from its main cast. Leaning into the cinematic qualities of the game, an eerie and tension ridden atmosphere is created. Though it has some pacing and development issues, The Last of Us effectively depicts a world that is both full of cruelty and community, finding both hope and hopelessness in the survivors’ lives and deaths.
Words by Jess Bradbury
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.