The first time you see that hospital hallway in Salt Lake City, something shifts. It isn't just a game anymore. It’s a weight. The Last of Us video games didn't just change how Naughty Dog made software; they basically recalibrated what we expect from digital storytelling. Most "zombie" games are about the thrill of the headshot or the adrenaline of the escape, but Neil Druckmann and the team at Naughty Dog decided to make a game about the cost of love. Specifically, the terrifying, destructive things people do when they have something to lose.
It’s been over ten years since Joel and Ellie first walked out of that Boston QZ. We’ve seen a sequel that divided the internet into warring factions, a high-budget HBO adaptation, and a remake that sparked debates about "necessary" upgrades. Yet, the core of the experience remains this jagged, uncomfortable masterpiece. People still argue about the ending. They still cry at the prologue.
Why?
Because it’s honest. It’s brutal. It’s deeply human in a way that most big-budget AAA titles are too scared to be.
The Joel Miller Problem: Hero or Villain?
We have to talk about that ending. You know the one.
Joel Miller is a smuggler. He's a survivor. He’s also, by almost any objective metric, a man who committed a horrific act of violence to satisfy his own emotional needs. When he pulls Ellie out of that operating room in The Last of Us Part I, he isn't saving the world. He's dooming it. Or is he? That’s the genius of the writing.
Players often fall into two camps:
- Joel did what any father would do, and the Fireflies were incompetent anyway.
- Joel is a selfish monster who robbed humanity of its only hope and robbed Ellie of her choice.
The truth is messy. The Fireflies, led by Marlene, were desperate. They were willing to kill a child without her explicit consent for a chance at a vaccine. They didn't even give her a chance to say goodbye. But Joel’s lie—that "there were dozens" of others like her—is what sticks in your throat. It’s the moment the relationship becomes built on a foundation of sand. It’s a brilliant, heartbreaking narrative choice that forced players to inhabit a character they might suddenly disagree with.
The Last of Us Video Games and the Evolution of "Ludonarrative Dissonance"
Gaming critics love the term "ludonarrative dissonance." It basically means the story says one thing, but the gameplay says another. Think of Nathan Drake from Uncharted being a charming rogue in cutscenes but a mass murderer in the levels.
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In The Last of Us video games, Naughty Dog tried to bridge that gap.
In Part II, the violence feels heavy. It feels gross. When Ellie kills a dog or an NPC screams out their friend’s name—"Omar!" or "Nora!"—the game is forcing you to acknowledge that the people you're killing have lives. They have names. They have friends. This isn't "fun" in the traditional sense. It’s stressful. It’s exhausting. Some people hated it for that exact reason. They wanted a fun adventure, and instead, they got a 25-hour panic attack about the cycle of violence.
The gameplay loop of scavenging for every single rag and roll of tape mirrors the desperation of the world. You aren't a superhero. You’re a person with a broken brick and a half-empty 9mm.
The Technical Wizardry of the Remakes
When The Last of Us Part I (the PS5 remake) launched, there was a lot of noise about the price tag. $70 for a game people had already played twice? It seemed steep. But if you look at the technical leap, it’s wild.
The original 2013 version relied on "canned" animations for faces. The remake uses the actual performance capture data from Troy Baker and Ashley Johnson, mapped onto high-fidelity models. When Joel looks at Ellie at the end of the game, you can see the micro-tremors in his eyes. You see the hesitation. It’s no longer just a "video game character" talking; it’s a performance.
- Motion Matching: This technology allows characters to move more fluidly, transitioning between walking, running, and taking cover without that awkward "sliding" look.
- AI Overhaul: The enemies in the remake actually use the flanking tactics developed for Part II. They’re smarter. They’re meaner.
- Audio Design: Using 3D audio means you can hear the clickers... well, clicking... right behind your actual ear. It’s terrifying.
What Part II Actually Got Right (and Wrong)
The Last of Us Part II is one of the most decorated games in history, yet it has a user score on some sites that would make you think it was unplayable garbage. The "Abby" situation is the obvious flashpoint.
Introducing Abby—the daughter of the surgeon Joel killed—was a massive risk. Forcing players to play as her for ten hours after she kills a beloved character was an even bigger one. Honestly? It’s a masterstroke of empathy-testing. The game asks: Can you find a way to care about the person you hate most?
For some, the answer was a flat "no." And that’s a valid reaction. The game’s pacing is also a bit of a nightmare. The Seattle Day 1-2-3 structure repeats twice, which can make the middle of the game feel like a slog. You finally reach a climax as Ellie, and then—bam—back to Day 1 as Abby. It’s jarring. It’s intentional, but it’s jarring.
But the combat? The combat in Part II is arguably the best "stealth-action" has ever been. The way Ellie can go prone, crawl through tall grass, and use the environment is incredibly fluid. It feels like a lethal dance.
The Cultural Impact and the HBO Jump
It’s rare for a game to transition to TV and actually get better in some areas. The HBO show took the bones of The Last of Us video games and added layers that a game simply can't. Episode 3, "Long, Long Time," is the perfect example.
In the game, Bill is a crotchety survivalist who helps you get a truck battery. You find a note from his partner, Frank, which reveals their relationship ended in bitterness and suicide. It’s dark. It’s sad.
The show flipped that. It gave us a 20-year love story. It showed that even in the apocalypse, something beautiful can grow. It provided a foil to Joel’s journey. While Joel was shutting the world out, Bill eventually let someone in. It’s these kinds of expansions that keep the franchise relevant. It’s not just about the Cordyceps; it’s about the people left behind.
Real-World Connections: The Science of the Fungus
Naughty Dog didn't just invent the Cordyceps. It’s real. Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is a fungus that actually infects ants, takes over their nervous systems, and forces them to climb to a high point before bursting out of their heads to spread spores.
Obviously, it doesn't happen to humans. Our body temperatures are too high for the fungus to survive. But the "what if" factor is what makes the games so grounded. The "Clickers" are just a logical (and horrifying) extension of what happens when a fungus needs to find a new way to navigate after losing its eyesight.
How to Approach the Games Today
If you're jumping in for the first time or planning a replay, there’s a specific way to do it to get the most out of the experience.
First, don't rush. The environmental storytelling in these games is top-tier. Every house in the suburbs, every abandoned office in Pittsburgh, tells a mini-story. Look at the notes. Read the journals. There’s a story about a man named Ish in the first game that you find through various collectibles in the sewers. It’s one of the best "sub-plots" in gaming history, and you can completely miss it if you’re just sprinting to the next objective.
Second, play on a higher difficulty. "Grounded" mode is the definitive way to play. It removes the HUD, makes resources incredibly scarce, and turns every encounter into a puzzle. You’ll find yourself weighing the value of a single brick versus a molotov cocktail. It makes the world feel as dangerous as the characters say it is.
Actionable Next Steps for Fans
If you've already beaten the games and you're looking for more, here is how to dive deeper:
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- Watch the "Grounded" Documentaries: Naughty Dog released two feature-length documentaries (one for each game) that show the grueling development process. It’ll make you appreciate the technical craft much more.
- Explore the "American Dreams" Comic: This prequel comic explains how Ellie and Riley met. It adds a ton of weight to the Left Behind DLC.
- Check Out "No Return": If you have The Last of Us Part II Remastered, play the roguelike mode. It strips away the story and lets you just engage with the combat mechanics using different characters like Lev, Tommy, or Mel.
- Listen to the Podcast: The "Official The Last of Us Podcast" goes episode-by-episode through the games and the show, featuring interviews with Troy Baker, Ashley Johnson, and Neil Druckmann.
The legacy of The Last of Us video games isn't just the sales figures or the awards. It’s the way it forced the medium to grow up. It proved that games could be uncomfortable, morally grey, and devastatingly sad, while still being "blockbusters." Whether we ever get a Part III or not, the story of Joel and Ellie is already etched into the permanent history of the medium. It’s a reminder that in a world gone to hell, the most dangerous thing you can do is care about someone else.