8
« on: December 05, 2018, 09:31:07 PM »
I just finished Last of Us, a game I've always wanted to play, but never had the ability. Finally sitting down at night and playing the remaster on PS4 was a pretty incredible experience. I am of course coming to the game 5 years late, and already pre-programmed to expect the masterpiece that it (mostly!) is. But layered on top of that was an even bigger hurdle for me: The game draws clear inspiration from The Road, which is one of my favorite books. Consequently, there's a lot to love, but also inevitable contrasts and comparisons. Before I go any further, you should go grab The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Do not bother with the movie. Not saying I'm dropping spoilers here, just vouching for it as a solid book.
See, I do finish games from time to time! So long as they can hold my interest... And as far as I'm concerned, Last of Us is a modern classic. Any nitpicking I'm about to do simply can't drown out its overall greatness.
The animations and character acting were the real stars here. Holy shit... I've never played a game like this. There are thousands of small character animations that convey emotions wordlessly. There's a scene in which Joel jokes "Go Bighorns..." in response to learning where the characters will be headed next (a college). The person pointing the way is caught off guard by Joel's joke, half-smiles in surprise, but the nuance of the animation conveys that he was thinking about a distant memory of the old world. It's a single reaction animation, not even framed in a cinematic, lasting about 2 seconds, but it said more than words could. If I can critique anything about these moments, it's that they are far outnumbered by scenes that simply don't require, or benefit, from the lavish animation capabilities. The story is a pretty straightforward road trip, and the scenario stays consistent for about 90% of the game. The spectrum of possibilities is thus fairly shallow.
The game maturely demonstrates how two very different people deal with trauma. Joel turns inward, just putting one step in front of the other after his life fell apart. Though even at the start of the game, in the old world, Joel wasn't exactly Mr. Chipper. The collapse of civilization however gives him a solid excuse to withdraw and be as forlorn as he wanted. Ellie's take on the world is fresh, as someone who has never known life outside a quarantine zone. Her arc is about grappling with her optimism alongside a man and in a world that won't just mend.
The game ends precisely where it should. Joel made the wrong choice, but it was really the only option that guy was going to take -- obviously. Marlene grossly misjudged him. She knew Joel's brother, and should have known about Sarah as a result. So that's all on her, as far as I'm concerned. I could feel no remorse over his decision, even though a vaccine could have been the thing that humanity rallied around and began to heal. At the same time, it wasn't as if Joel was going to let the world take another loved one away from him. Though I was genuinely surprised that none of the emotional punches in the game left much of an impact on me. I was more fascinated with the world and the craft of how the team constructed these scenes than the content of most of them, but I conclude that's a problem with me, not the game.
Around the time of the sequel's announcement, I remember reading many opinions that the game didn't NEED a sequel. But as someone fresh from the experience, I'm happy there's more to tell about Jellie, and I'm looking forward to it.
I would have been happy with about half the fight sequences being removed. I can rationalize some intermittent stealth sequences, because paired with Joel's "sense" as a gameplay element, you constantly feel anxious, never truly comfortable in any space you walk through. All of that serves to reinforce the atmosphere that's at the heart of the story. But the sheer number of these sequences is overkill. Joel is a force of nature, to the extent that it creates dissonance in the realistic portrayal the game is clearly vying for. If I was part of a ragtag band of 20 ruffians, I'd probably start running away after I saw 15 of them mowed down by one grizzled old man. Fuck that. Most of these sequences feel like they were designed to be merely a more violent way to get from A to B, rather than to present interesting challenges that show a different side of the characters. Though one could argue that some character development happens between the startled reactions from Ellie at Joel's caveman instincts, I just wish the gameplay itself were more involved than pallet puzzles and shivving guys in the neck.
I also think I made a huge mistake by starting and then continuing to play on Normal. This made sense at the outset. I primarily wanted to experience the story, not be forced to replay sequences ad nauseum because of small mistakes. But as things progressed, my inventory was perpetually flush with items. No sequence was particularly challenging, and the feeling of scrounging the environment for materials was lessened by the fact that I never really felt in need of anything.
On to my biggest problem with the Last of Us, which is sociological: The unrealistic way people talk and interact. 20 years removed from the collapse of modern civilization, it seems insane to me that people would have the same sense of humor, same mannerisms, same function in human-to-human relations, as they do in our modern world -- they're all just a lot more grumpy. Consider, this is an era where there is no stability. Everyone has lost someone, and they are constantly running and scrounging for a meager existence. Witty repartee simply would not survive the utter collapse of the human spirit. They're sullen, but still sarcastic; a little on edge, but not far removed at all from modern human relations. As broken as people are in this setting, I feel like the change in their personalities would be proportionally radical.
This problem is solidified in Ellie, someone who wasn't even around when the world was whole, yet does a perfect mimicry of a modern teenage girl. I think Cormac McCarthy nailed it with his brittle dialogue, and how untrusting those who survived the collapse were of each other (for those who have read it, the scene with the old man is the most noteworthy example of this). This is a bit like picking on seeing a dated hair style in a movie that's supposed to be set in the future. I'm sure from the writer's room, they could argue that a teenage character should translate to dialogue that is recognizably teenage to modern audiences. If that's the argument, I simply don't agree. If civilization collapsed, the old norms would go with it, and along with that, the way we treat and value each other, and thus the way we speak and interact.
I remember reading The Road, thinking how cool a game it could be. Exploring emptied houses, putting stories together from the remains of the environment, communicating the ways of the old world to one who never experienced it (the Boy in The Road may as well be Ellie) is rife with potential. For the most part, the game does check those boxes. But it also gives you more opportunities to lean into the characters. I just wish they did more of it, and gave Joel and Ellie a longer arc. But I suppose that's what sequels are for!
Show Posts
