the last of us (season 1)

For some time now, video game adaptations have felt poised to generate a potentially seismic impact on film and television, not unlike the manner in which comic books and superheroes came to dominate the medium over these past 15-20 years… but now that we appear to be on the cusp (it took an agonizingly long time for the penny to drop, but Sony finally seems to have acknowledged “Hey - we have a hugely popular gaming ecosystem and our very own entertainment division… maybe there’s some synergy there!”), it’s hard not to feel a certain ambivalence. Video games have become so cinematic and narratively ambitious in their own right, it begs the question of why even adapt them at all? If the end result is too loyal to the source material, it runs the risk of feeling like a needless transcription, a glorified xerox… but deliberate deviation for the sake of deviation simply degrades the product and alienates the fanbase (the recent Uncharted movie - in spite of its box office success - was a prime example… arbitrary decisions, such as making the lead characters significantly younger, meshed awkwardly with slavish recreations of the game’s action set pieces. The end result was floundering at best).   

HBO’s new series The Last of Us - based on arguably the crown jewel of Sony’s acclaimed stable of Playstation exclusives - is the first adaptation that manages to thread the needle almost perfectly… aggressively faithful, but using the opportunity afforded by a full season of television to further enrich and deepen the game’s narrative. It’s not surprising, given the creative auspices involved. TV heavyweight Craig Mazin (Chernobyl) joined forces with the game’s creator, Neil Druckmann, and the synergy is instantly apparent. The Last of Us is a series that generates a lot of breathless hyperbole and bluster (the melodramatic comparisons to Schindler’s List; Mazin himself anointing it flatly as “the greatest story ever told” in gaming history), but it really is a masterpiece amongst masterpieces (its polarizing sequel even more so) and if any video game felt destined to light the way, it was this one. Whether it truly forges a lasting bridge between mediums remains to be seen, but a workable blueprint has finally been provided.

At first glance, The Last of Us might seem like just another post-apocalyptic zombie saga, but the story is rooted in very real (and very terrifying) science. Cordyceps is a parasitic fungus found in the insect world, which mutates its host and assumes control of its mind and motor functions in horrifying fashion. The pilot’s chilling opening sequence features John Hannah as an epidemiologist on a 60s talk show, laying out the precise conditions that might theoretically lead to cordyceps making an evolutionary leap to a human host (hint - it involves climate change). Cut to 2003, as conjecture becomes reality and the world collapses with swift, stark and stunning fragility (in an even better vignette, an Indonesian mycologist, realizing what’s coming, informs the authorities “There’s no medicine. There’s no vaccine. Bomb this city… and everyone in it”).

Jumping to present day, two decades after the initial outbreak, we pick up with Joel (Pedro Pascal), a smuggler hardened by tragedy and hollowed out by years of grief, who operates out of Boston (which, like most major cities, is under military rule). A chain of events leads to him assuming the role of reluctant protector to a teenage girl named Ellie (Bella Ramsey), who appears to be immune… and needs to be transported cross-country to a medical lab in Colorado run by the Fireflies (rebel freedom fighters… or violent terrorists, depending on who you ask). Pascal is starting to feel a bit ubiquitous these days, given that he already portrays the title character in Disney Plus flagship The Mandolorian… but it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing Joel, so good is he hinting at the embers of humanity still smoldering beneath his taciturn shell (as an added bonus, he doesn’t have to wear a helmet 97% of the time). When The Last of Us was originally announced as a potential film, many fans called for Maisie Williams to play the crucial role of Ellie (and she openly lobbied for consideration)… but too much time passed and the part ironically went to her Game of Thrones co-star Ramsey (who played the small but memorable role of Lyanna Mormont). Rather serendipitously, it turns out, as the young English actress proves a major revelation. Her Ellie has sharper edges and a chip on her shoulder that’s more deeply furrowed than her video game counterpart’s, but she ably captures the character’s endearing blend of guarded empathy, snarky wit and survival instinct (“This is my second day in a fucking car, man!” she exclaims when Joel criticizes her ability to read a roadmap). If Mazin and Druckmann do, in fact, use the more Ellie-centric second game as the blueprint for next season, there’s little doubt that Ramsey will be well up to the task. These iconic characters are in good hands.

The Last of Us has often been described as a cross between The Walking Dead and the Cormac McCarthy novel The Road, but the series heavily shades the balance towards the latter. In fact, those expecting a more conventional zombie offering may be thrown by just how little presence the infected actually have on-screen (there’s an agonizingly tense encounter with a pair of Clickers in the second episode, and a climactic action blowout - featuring a Bloater - near the end of episode five, but that’s about it). To be honest, the story navigates some fairly over-trodden apocalyptic territory (you might be floored to learn that the *true* monster… is humanity)… but it’s a credit to the rich spectrum of supporting characters (and casting) that the series lands one emotional haymaker after another, flush to the jaw. These include Merle Dandridge as Firefly ringleader Marlene; Anna Torv as Joel’s partner-in-crime Tess; Lamar Johnson as a young man named Henry and the endearing Keivonn Woodard as his younger brother Sam; Melanie Lynskey as morally compromised revolutionary Kathleen; Gabriel Luna as Joel’s younger brother Tommy; and Graham Greene and Elaine Miles as a Native American couple who have less than ten minutes of screentime, but feel ready-made for their own spinoff series. 

Translating the pacing of the game into the pacing of a tv series is a tricky issue that Mazin and Druckmann maintain a firm handle on, though the grip often proves a slippery one. The nine episodes they have to work with encompass all of the game’s major dramatic checkpoints… though without the benefit of the hours upon hours of gameplay that allow Joel and Ellie’s bond to fully marinate. Some fans grumbled that - with available screentime at a premium - an entire episode was dedicated to Bill (Nick Offerman), a closeted survivalist who finds unlikely happiness with Frank (Murray Bartlett) over a 20-year period… or that another episode was earmarked to dramatize the “Left Behind” DLC (a flashback featuring Storm Reid’s Riley that essentially functions as Ellie’s origin story). While the former was almost bewilderingly overpraised (it was certainly a fine episode, but hardly warranted the fawning Twitter meltdown that ensued), both play a vital role in the show’s thematic trajectory. It’s worth trusting in Mazin and Druckmann’s instincts. In spite of the inevitable nitpicking and second guessing (would the subplot concerning sinister cult leader David been more effective as a slow-boil over multiple episodes? Maybe… maybe not), they show an intuitive grasp of when to deviate from the source material and when to replicate moments from the game virtually beat-by-beat and line-by-line (including - most notably - the final scene, which still stands as one of the most perfect closing beats to a video game ever).        ​

The climax of the game generated considerable debate back in 2013 (and in the years since) and it’s been fun seeing that debate ferociously rekindled in the wake of the season finale. Without getting into the details, it’s worth noting that the ethical repercussions aren’t necessarily a simple binary issue - you can view Joel’s actions as inherently selfish while still believing he absolutely did the right thing. My personal belief is that the narrative trajectory of the game (hours spent violently fighting off scavengers, raiders and various other people who’d love nothing more than to gut you and take what little you have) was designed to insinuate that the human race is too far gone. There’s no going back; no rebuilding society, miracle cure or not (as we see in Kansas City, the only thing worse than military occupation is the alternative). The title obviously refers to the remaining uninfected… but on a deeper thematic level it suggests that the final glint of our humanity is our ability to emotionally connect with another person; to care about someone other than ourselves, to value something beyond mere survival. The people Joel and Ellie encounter along the way - Frank and Bill; Henry and Sam - reinforce this concept… and suggest that it’s the one thing left in the world that’s actually worth fighting for. The one thing in the world you don’t ever sacrifice. The one thing in the world you hold on to and never let go of.