Well, here we are (seven weeks later 😅). This particular review has been hanging over me. Sure, I’ve been quite busy with work, podcast production, and buying a house: I have excuses. But I haven’t been able to shake the weight of finishing up my season review of The Last of Us. It’s surrounded by completed tasks on my to do list; a constant, blank reminder to come back.

Part of me needed time from the finale. I came out of it with disappointment and I kind of just sat in that. I poured myself into those other tasks—those excuses—all the while letting the finale be mulled over in the back of my mind. Not being on social media allowed me to be alone with my thoughts. I think I only discussed the finale with Abby, Logan, and one friend who brought it up at ultimate frisbee.

It’s time though.

The finale of The Last of Us is stunted. Clocking in at just under 43 minutes, there is no time for it to come into its own. The bulk of it sticks strictly to the game and that adherence is a hinderance. The strongest moments are not from the game, but new material brought into the light of the tiny silver screen. But those wonderful new elements have zero no time to grow or have no payoff. The rushed nature that I have been talking about since episode five compounds in the finale.

The cold open returns and was the defacto highlight of the episode. Ashley Johnson plays Ellie’s mother, Anna. Perfect casting. No one else could have done this. Ashley has given life to Ellie both in her decade long performance has her in the game and now on the HBO adaptation.

There’s real tension and suspense watching this pregnant women, in labor, trying to fight off the infected. We also get an explanation to Ellie’s immunity, something the games never really broached. Turns out this was all an original story and pitch back in 2014. There’s more to this story and one we may yet see come to light. It’s so fast, raw, and powerful. The show can do that because there is no box to be contained in. This story is new and the show shines because of that.

Later on, Joel and Ellie have a classic heart to heart before the final battle moment. We see Joel open up about some scar on his head, which turned out to be an attempted suicide on day two of the apocalypse. It’s a scenario that feels so grounded and it’s one I never considered for Joel. But this scar, as far as I recall, had never been mentioned before, never brushed off, or focused on. So we get this moment of vulnerability without any meaningful build up. It’s shock value that cheapens the weight of the actual moment between the two characters.

I think a little before that particular exchange, we get the legendary giraffe scene. It was great to see a real giraffe, a choice I was hoping they’d make. I feel like the scene lacked punch though. The show follows the game beat for beat, which includes the ladder “prompt” and subversion. This loses all its umpfh. These two have never done the ladder retrieval on the show. There’s no expectation to subvert. This narrative beat was entirely sculpted around gameplay. Now, the actual giraffe encounter is strong. A little is lost since we don’t control the pace of departure. I always linger and this, again, felt rushed. We have a lot of story to get through and only checks playhead 22 minutes to go.

During Joel’s hospital massacre, a tonal mismatch of the highest degree occurs. As Joel is ratta tat tatting through the Fireflies, we hear Gustavo Santaolalla’s All Gone (No Escape) sweeping underneath. A melancholic song that pulls your heart along its desperate notes. In the game, this emerges as Joel carries Ellie out of surgery to escape. In the show, it plays while Joel mows down mercenaries. The juxtaposition is so jarring. It lends tender, clinging hope to the most gamey part of the show rather than the paternal affection and desperation Joel displays during the actual escape. I’m saddened by this emotional mismatch.

My last complaint/nitpick/issue/etc. lies in the camera work of the infamous final scene. When Joel lies to Ellie outside of Jackson, the cameras are tilted ever so slightly to give power to Joel in the scene. From Joel’s perspective, the camera is looking down on Ellie; and Ellie’s angle is looking up to Joel. Sure, there is the physical height of it all, but in the language of cinema, this gives Joel the power in the scene. In the game, the camera is square with both protagonists. I felt this tilt diminishes Ellie’s understanding, hesitation, and growth throughout. In fairness, this is something that could pay off cinematically in future seasons, should they mirror this conversation dynamic as roles and power shift.

Here, at the end of season one, I am bummed, yet hopeful. This debut is too crammed and squanders what time it does have with the audience. Trying to fit the entire first game was a necessity from a “we have one chance” perspective. Now with multiple seasons in the works, the crew has time to slow down, explore, and grow.

HBO’s The Last of Us was at its best when it did its own thing; when it tried to expand upon the world. Some new bits were strong, while others were weak. Time was the enemy here.

As a fan, it was strange to look at something new, yet familiar. The shape of the thing was a rough approximation for what came before. The details were where differences stood out. Being so close, so familiar at times, creates an urge to reject. It can put you in a place of denial even. By the end, I wanted space from it all. I wanted the original back. Heck, I might play both games this summer.

And here, at the end of it all, I can’t help, but compare it all to Sarah and Ellie. I am Joel. I’m older. I long for the joy of new Naughty Dog stories. My reaction is to reject the 2.0, the replacement, the adaptation. By the end of my adventure with season one, I am not the Joel at the end of the game. I’m closer to the Joel at the ranch outside of Jackson. I’m scared to get close, guarding myself off as we tread on some mighty thin ice. Perhaps over time, with full understanding of what the show is and what the games are, I can see the show for what it is rather than what it is not. Perhaps with the space to breath both the show and myself can understand one another and grow. There is hope and opportunity in the space between. And when I consider that, I think it will all be okay.

I did it. I reviewed an entire season of television. Dang man. TV criticism is tougher on paper. I have no clue if I’ll do that same for season two, but thankfully I have time to figure that out. It wouldn’t be a TV episode review from me without my observations. Hopefully I can parse my notes seven weeks removed.

• The amount of Part II music was apparently “sooooo much.” I was always excited to hear Gus and Mac’s newer music utilized in Part I scenarios.
• Sticking with the Part II energy, the house in the cold open had major Ellie farm vibes.
• I found it interesting that Anna and Marlene knew each other their entire lives. Not sure that was a detail in the games.
• Anna reminded me quite a bit of the American Daughters easter egg in Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End. I would love to know the story behind that poster.
• Pretty sure I spotted that Pedro Pascal is double jointed in his thumb.
• Marlene’s cold delivery was stellar.
• Given how swiftly Anna was killed, feels like there was no chance for her to write her letter to Ellie. Perhaps she did in between scenes, but felt like that didn’t happen in the show.

Sometimes throughout the season, I wish I wasn’t intimately familiar with the source material. This episode was the biggest disappointment so far, as a fan.¹ Winter is a part of the game ripe with superb performances, gripping scenarios, and an ending that sticks. When translating Winter to TV, the old adage of “the book is better than the movie” rang so true.

I understand that Hollywood cannot fit everything in to a show. I get that these performances are the vision and interpretation of the writers, directors, and actors. It is not supposed to be the same. It should stand shoulder to shoulder or be better, like episode three did with Bill and Frank. The cut corners rob the end pacing of the story.

I want to focus on the elements I enjoyed first though. The star of the episode was hands down Troy Baker. His role as David’s right-hand man was executed with a quiet conviction. At times, Troy was more David-like than Scott Shepherd. Any time Troy was one screen, he stole the scene.

The sound design and music hit home for me as well. The scene where David’s folk is eating and all you hear is spoons clanking into the bowls with a ravenous fervor. The sound makes the hair on your neck stand up as sadness and fear swirl around in your stomach, while theirs swirl with the remains of neighbors. Immaculate sound design.

Combative scenes use music from The Last of Us Part II to great effect. I like them tapping into the well of Part II‘s music. This is a far more effective use of resources than trying to layer themes and motifs on top of the base game. Let the work speak for itself rather than cramming in all you can.

I would be remiss if I did not call out my favorite moment from Winter. They did use the Joel “pop your goddamn knee off” line. Granted, I felt Pedro’s delivery was rushed, but this moment is top tier. It is a real window into Joel’s past actions, more than a line or story told in passing. I got both Alone and Forsaken and the knee? Maybe the season wasn’t so bad after all.

Or maybe it was.

This episode floundered who should have stolen the show—David. From the quiet, calm, and intelligent performance by Nolan North in the game to the religious, abusive, lost version on HBO, I am shocked at how they ruined David. I felt like Don Corleone looking upon the aftermath of his son’s massacre.

My biggest grievance is with the added layer of religion. It feels like another attempt to add on Part II narrative elements. The writers give David this unnecessary shroud of creepy pastor. Instead of elevating the character of David or changing him in a meaningful way, they cut off his imposition at the knees. It’s a crutch that David never needed, but now he is falling all over himself. The original character was far more effective with his bond built with Ellie (built during gameplay). Being a cannibal and a predator was enough. This new trait muddies the waters, leans into stereotypical cult Hollywood writing and weakens a striking villain.

This episode bummed me way out and, honestly, it doesn’t improve from here. But, like fans of books over movie adaptations, they can never take away the original version. The attempts to strip gameplay scenarios proves how effective that hands-on interaction is for telling a powerful story. It also may be showing how lacking a story like The Last of Us can be outside of its intended medium. Without the intimate connection, the ability to walk a mile in the character’s shoes, do the highs and lows reach the same levels? Is David’s effectiveness bound to fighting off Infected alongside him?² Do Joel and Ellie work has this father/daughter bond without putting the audience in each role?

It’s odd to see a show so bound to the original source material that when it branches away, it more often fails than succeed. Yet, remaining so true to the source in other areas shows how essential the original medium is to elevating that tale. It’s a catch-22. And sometimes, I wish I wasn’t so familiar with the source material.

I am sorry this review (and the finale review) are so late. I’ve been tied up. And honestly, reviewing these last two episodes makes me a bit sad. It’s a rough and rushed end to an adaption that started strong. I am hopeful that future seasons lean into the knowledge of said future seasons to craft a better adaptation. We shall see, but until 2024 or 2025, here are some observations I made during the episode that didn’t make the cut of being mentioned in the review.

• The girl in David’s “flock,” Joyce, is the daughter of the man Joel killed at the university. Feels a bit on the nose, but a nice touch to this world. 👀
• Joel had a very nice knife to the neck stealth kill that felt gamey.
• Ellie does not eat the meat that David offers up. In the game, she does and that conveys her true level of hunger. I kinda wish she partook on the show, but maybe seeing real people eat other “real” people is tougher for audiences to swallow?
• I wish the kept the bunny kill. Overall, I felt like Ellie was more incapable in the show. Like Joel hadn’t spent off camera time teaching her to survive like he did in the game. Felt strange to me.
• Yet, Ellie’s killing of David is far more gruesome and, once again, reminds me of a particular scene in Part II. I do think it went on for a few swings too long. And I found it interesting that Joel doesn’t find her inside the burning building, but outside of it.

1. That would be until the finale, but we watched them back to back. It was a quick one-two punch.

2. I’d wager no in David’s case, far more tied to delivery and how the character was written versus rewritten.