Truly had to shoot for the moon and back to justify it's existence but I think it got there. The Last of Us left alone would only further grow its classic status, relishing in an ending that finds strength in the unknown, scorning quite happily at the mere idea of answers. Few games end so honestly, Naughty Dog could've been safely on track to be renowned & beloved among the greatest of dev teams but I think this game has changed that. This game is as unsafe as it gets. This story is a ballsy decision, throwing the main attractions of the first game out of the window was even ballsier. Hard not to be a bit awestruck at Part I, but the mark Part II has left feels fire branded onto me. I've never had internal eruptions spark off like they did here and I found that emotional challenge electrifying and fascinating.
Part II rejects every possible notion of what most would probably hope for in a follow-up to The Last of Us narratively within the first 30 minutes. Despite myself being late to it I could still recall this game being marketed before release as another tense & grimy Joel & Ellie adventure, a hilarious assumption to make looking back. The entire story is - very brutally - a 'show, don't tell' affair, it'll stop at nothing to throw contradictions at you. In doing that I think this game finds its own power in places unexplored throughout Part I; the unforgiving hell that is living in this world feels uncontrollable and fickle, rather than merely being a fly on the wall you feel like part of why it has all come to this.
Despite all of Part I's ugly grittiness it was built on a foundation of love, and finding it in the most hopeless of circumstances. This in definition made it one of those rare games that tugs at your moral compass and guilt but that was never the focus. I think it now is in Part II, almost obnoxiously. A lot of the power of Part I comes in what isn't said, but Part II is the opposite. Everything communicated to you on screen feels like its purpose is to violently conflict the attachment you thought you had to this world. The gameplay's design even contributes to this more as it too toys with your attachment the first game left you with. It feels less like you're playing as a hardened survivor, as now you're given even more portability and options for how to make it out alive, further welcoming creativity in the violence which you will always relish in. I don't think this game wants you to feel guilty for doing what you do, just question it, which sometimes is compelling enough.
I naturally questioned what the game was going for as it continued. The curveballs and tropes often to feed your desire to root for the people in this game as much as they make you despise them, the ability to find the heartwarming bond that so naturally developed in Part I now seems impossible. It felt too easy to dismiss this game's story beats with 'revenge is bad', I think this game wants to punish and challenge its player, but I also believe it respects you in this effort. Part II assumes that you know revenge is bad from the beginning, and yet it doesn't shy away from trying to put you through every inch of what Ellie feels despite that, creating for a riveting experience that gives those previously mentioned curveballs a context that managed to make it all tie together in the end. A character driven story with an agonising amount of detail, the final message here is a more thoughtful one than that of 2013's The Last of Us. I see Part II as a shattering story of acceptance and what it'll take for Ellie to get there in a legitimately heartless world, and the implication comes in what that'll mean for her going forward.
An extension of the first would've been too easy for Naughty Dog. This game tackles different questions, in 2013 The Last of Us showed us the value in finding love among disparity whereas Part II had me consistently pondering over what is left when that love is withering away. Joel's infamous quote "no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for" is the backbone, put to the most extreme of tests here. Ellie's story for me was as heartbreaking an attempt at redemption that you could fathom, never a case of "us vs. them" really, it's just "us". Brings me a lot of to see a sequel go this far to surprise and provoke its main player base, it'll fly around my mind for years to come.
Part II rejects every possible notion of what most would probably hope for in a follow-up to The Last of Us narratively within the first 30 minutes. Despite myself being late to it I could still recall this game being marketed before release as another tense & grimy Joel & Ellie adventure, a hilarious assumption to make looking back. The entire story is - very brutally - a 'show, don't tell' affair, it'll stop at nothing to throw contradictions at you. In doing that I think this game finds its own power in places unexplored throughout Part I; the unforgiving hell that is living in this world feels uncontrollable and fickle, rather than merely being a fly on the wall you feel like part of why it has all come to this.
Despite all of Part I's ugly grittiness it was built on a foundation of love, and finding it in the most hopeless of circumstances. This in definition made it one of those rare games that tugs at your moral compass and guilt but that was never the focus. I think it now is in Part II, almost obnoxiously. A lot of the power of Part I comes in what isn't said, but Part II is the opposite. Everything communicated to you on screen feels like its purpose is to violently conflict the attachment you thought you had to this world. The gameplay's design even contributes to this more as it too toys with your attachment the first game left you with. It feels less like you're playing as a hardened survivor, as now you're given even more portability and options for how to make it out alive, further welcoming creativity in the violence which you will always relish in. I don't think this game wants you to feel guilty for doing what you do, just question it, which sometimes is compelling enough.
I naturally questioned what the game was going for as it continued. The curveballs and tropes often to feed your desire to root for the people in this game as much as they make you despise them, the ability to find the heartwarming bond that so naturally developed in Part I now seems impossible. It felt too easy to dismiss this game's story beats with 'revenge is bad', I think this game wants to punish and challenge its player, but I also believe it respects you in this effort. Part II assumes that you know revenge is bad from the beginning, and yet it doesn't shy away from trying to put you through every inch of what Ellie feels despite that, creating for a riveting experience that gives those previously mentioned curveballs a context that managed to make it all tie together in the end. A character driven story with an agonising amount of detail, the final message here is a more thoughtful one than that of 2013's The Last of Us. I see Part II as a shattering story of acceptance and what it'll take for Ellie to get there in a legitimately heartless world, and the implication comes in what that'll mean for her going forward.
An extension of the first would've been too easy for Naughty Dog. This game tackles different questions, in 2013 The Last of Us showed us the value in finding love among disparity whereas Part II had me consistently pondering over what is left when that love is withering away. Joel's infamous quote "no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for" is the backbone, put to the most extreme of tests here. Ellie's story for me was as heartbreaking an attempt at redemption that you could fathom, never a case of "us vs. them" really, it's just "us". Brings me a lot of to see a sequel go this far to surprise and provoke its main player base, it'll fly around my mind for years to come.