The Last of Us Has a Storytelling Handicap

Spoilers and Golf Puns from Season 2 of the Zombie Apocalypse Drama

SPOILER DISCLAIMER: This article contains major spoilers for ‘The Last of Us’ Season 2 and the video game The Last of Us Part II. If you haven’t watched the show or played the game and wish to experience the story unspoiled, consider revisiting this piece after doing so. Proceed at your own risk.

EDITOR’S NOTE: We are, first and foremost, a movie Substack. Do not expect television commentary to become commonplace. Caleb and his wife recently welcomed a baby girl to the world, so television is all they have time for. Thanks for understanding!

WRITER’S NOTE TO THE EDITOR: You leave my wife and children out of this! Every path has a price, and The Last of Us had it coming.

EDITOR’S NOTE TO THE WRITER’S NOTE TO THE EDITOR: Bite me.

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On Wednesday night, after we put our kids to bed, my wife turned to me and said, “Let’s finally watch The Last of Us Season 2!” I took a deep breath and nodded. I wasn’t excited. How could I be? As someone who played the games, I knew what was in store for us.

I won’t pretend I loved The Last of Us Part II like its predecessor. I have profound memories of playing through The Last of Us into the late-night hours, sustained by pizza rolls and the incredible story that unfolded before me.

As the credits rolled, I sat in complete silence, tears welling up in my bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes. I never knew a video game, of all things, could move me so deeply. I can’t say the same about The Last of Us Part II.

Yes, it is ambitious. Its themes are thought-provoking. Its production quality is unquestioned. It is acted exceptionally well. But, its story is flawed and executed poorly—pun intended! Unfortunately, the same can be said about the show so far.

I could gripe about the story: the overreliance on deus ex machinas, the uncharacteristic character decisions, the pacing that will bore you to death one moment and put you in a neck brace the next, and the contrived, unnatural connections we are told to have with characters throughout the story.

Since 2020, the story has divided fans of the games, and I imagine it will similarly divide fans of the show. Whether or not The Last of Us Part II is a story worth telling is irrelevant because it has already been told.

My complaint is the overcommitment to a non-linear storytelling structure and how the story is presented to us as the audience.

The decision to jump through time and introduce key narrative elements out of order undermines the emotional weight and thematic depth of the story, especially in a TV series format.

Before I launch into my grievances, let me be clear about two things.

I am not opposed to non-linear storytelling. Many movies and TV shows, including Memento, Arrival, Pulp Fiction, and HBO’s season one of Westworld, use non-linear story structures well. There are certainly others.

I also admire writers who take risks. At least The Last of Us writers pushed the boundaries in an era of story “retelling” that either remakes the next classic Disney film left in a dwindling pile of source material or resurrects some beloved movie from the '80s so it can be peddled to the next generation of moviegoers.

That said, being bold doesn’t make a good story. When non-linear storytelling misses the mark, it can be confusing, annoying, and disastrous.

We are linear, storytelling creatures, living our lives step by step, with one event following another. The linear story of our lives, the story we tell ourselves, is how we process reality, make sense of our experiences, and understand those around us.

Like our ability to recognize humanlike VFX that fail to cross the “uncanny valley,” we have an intuitive sense for storytelling. By design, non-linear storytelling disrupts the natural, linear flow we deeply understand and experience.

When done well, non-linear narratives can create mystery, build tension, further develop characters, and give us insight into multiple perspectives of the same story.

Unnecessary or poorly executed non-linear narratives can confuse the audience and dilute the emotional impact of themes and characters.

The creative decision to force The Last of Us Part II into a non-linear structure ultimately does a disservice to the themes and characters, especially when adapted for television.

As the opening credits for Season 2 began, I suspected the show would follow the game's non-linear structure, but I was curious how it would be adapted to the new format.

Would it stick to the structure of the source material? Abandon it entirely? Or find an alternative narrative order to better fit a TV series? The initial scenes of the new season confirmed my suspicion, but left me confused.

Season 2 opens by reminding us of Joel and Ellie’s conversation at the end of Season 1. Joel lies by swearing that the Fireflies couldn’t produce a vaccine from Ellie’s immunity to the cordyceps. Ellie reluctantly accepts Joel's word, and they go to Jackson together.

In the next scene, we are introduced to Abby. Not only are we introduced to her from the outset, but we are also given the driving force of her character, which is killing Joel.

Wait, seriously? Sure, we don’t know precisely why Abby wants to see Joel suffer and die, but it's obvious she is a Firefly seeking revenge for Joel’s murderous rampage at the end of Season 1.

The decision to establish Abby’s character and motivations immediately undermines one of the significant benefits of adopting non-linear storytelling: mystery.

In the video game, we are introduced to Abby’s character as she and the group reach the outskirts of Jackson. We have no context for her or the group's reasons for coming to Jackson, and we are left to wonder about their motivations even after Unhappy Gilmore does a number on Joel’s head, leaving him dead and mangled in a pool of his blood. Oh, yeah, Joel dies, by the way.

While the game’s non-linear approach still undermines the potential weight of Joel’s death, in my opinion, it was certainly shocking.

The show, however, undercuts the emotional force and shock value of its non-linear structure by revealing Abby’s motivations upfront.

When Abby and Joel miraculously run into each other in the show, we know conflict and, at the least, an attempt on Joel’s life is around the corner.

Why commit to a non-linear structure only to abandon its usefulness at a crucial moment like Joel’s death?

The scene introducing Abby also signals to the audience that we are meant to feel sympathy for her, which feels contrived and unnatural.

We have no connection to Abby yet and won’t for who knows how many episodes, but we are implicitly told that we are meant to connect with her, now or in the future.

Given the non-linear structure, it is no surprise that the show will attempt to form these connections through various time jumps to fill in the gaps.

Why is Joel and Ellie’s relationship strained? Flashbacks! Who did Joel kill that set Abby on her path of revenge? Time jumps! What have Joel and Ellie been doing for four or five years since returning to Jackson? Queue the “A Few Years Earlier” title cards!

Don’t get me wrong. I look forward to these moments, especially those between Joel and Ellie. They were the best parts of the game, and I am sure they will be the best parts of the show. The issue is the lack of linear context and overall story cohesion.

Season 1 of The Last of Us proved that a non-linear structure can be very effective. In Episode 3, Long, Long Time, we follow Bill and Frank's relationship from the beginning of the outbreak to Joel and Ellie’s arrival at their homestead, where our main narrative occurs.

The non-linear structure benefits from its brevity and focus on Bill and Frank. It’s a heartbreaking episode and a masterclass in storytelling.

Now, imagine that the episode starts with Bill and Frank at the end of their lives. They’re old and sick. Rather than leave one or the other to survive the terrible world alone, they choose to leave this mortal coil together of their own accord.

They are about to drink their poisoned wine when… flashback! Only then do we see their relationship and the events that precede their ultimate demise together.

Can you imagine how different that episode would be? The culminating moment of Bill’s and Frank’s relationship would lose its power and meaning.

The presence, not the absence, of all the context and events that precede Bill’s and Frank’s deaths allows us to understand and react to their experiences, making the pivotal moments of their story all the more meaningful.

By comparison, Joel’s death is deprived of essential context and preceding events, severely limiting its potential power and meaning.

The non-linear structure of The Last of Us Part II and Season 2 aims to offer multiple perspectives on the story, shifting between Ellie and Abby to show how their lives and choices aren’t so different. I get it.

Aren’t protagonists and antagonists different sides of the same coin? Don’t we love because we hate, and hate because we love? Aren’t we all just parallel lines endlessly drifting through the void, only to be caught in the eternal return of the same?

Who's to say! I’m still waiting for my flashback to find out, damn it.

Am I saying I could have done it better? I guess so.

Television, by its nature, is very different from video games and films. With limited time per episode and seasons broken up over several weeks and months, The Last of Us Season 2's non-linear structure feels jarring, underwhelming, and a bit exhausting.

The viewer must attempt to piece together a story of disconnected beats, narratives, and perspectives to walk away with something whole that they can feel emotionally and consider intellectually.

At least, I hope so. If the goal of the story is emotional apathy, moral ambiguity, and general confusion, it succeeds.

To make matters worse, we must wait for Season 3 before anything from Part II is remotely resolved. Season 1 of The Last of Us established a tight, emotional narrative that was linear and complete. If Part II or Season 2 never existed, you would never be the wiser.

By contrast, Season 2's non-linear structure demands that viewers hold onto these unresolved and disparate threads of a story for months, if not years, until the new season arrives.

We are four episodes into Season 2, and Abby has hardly been mentioned or on screen since she sent Joel’s head tumbling down the big, green fairway in the sky.

How are we as the audience supposed to engage with her character if there is nothing to engage with almost halfway through Season 2? Is she a psychopathic villain we are meant to hate? A misunderstood victim we grow to understand?

I assume we will find out, but in the meantime, we’ve been introduced to a host of other new characters, factions, and narratives. It is difficult to know where our minds and hearts are supposed to focus.

Extending the story across multiple seasons will only make it harder for viewers to stay connected to the characters and their motivations, diluting the impact of the show’s most pivotal moments.

I am happy to be proven wrong as the show unfolds, but the true meaning of Joel’s death will have to be explained in a non-linear structure or left entirely unexplained. Both present problems for our ability to truly consider and feel the weight of the themes and characters.

We will have to wade through Ellie’s and Abby’s various perspectives and past experiences throughout countless episodes and, at least, another season before we can comprehend Joel’s death. By then, I worry that any sense of Ellie, Abby, or Joel as characters in that pivotal moment will be lost upon us.

A linear structure would have allowed the show to continue building the relationship between Joel and Ellie, exploring the four or five years between the events of Season 1 and Joel’s death.

This narrative path could have deepened the audience’s emotional investment in their bond, showing how it was tested and strained over time but never broken, ultimately making Joel’s death even more devastating.

Don’t get me started on the decision to replace Tommy with Dina as the second witness to Joel’s horrifying death! That was another story element the video game got right over the show.

I understand the show needed Tommy, a familiar character, at Jackson for the zombie invasion set piece, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Still, it is another example of sacrificing story for spectacle.

Anyway… we could witness Joel and Ellie’s relationship grow and change in a linear structure. Season 2 could end with Abby’s appearance and her murder of Joel.

It would preserve the emotional weight of that moment, allowing the audience to feel the shock and horror of his death as if we were Ellie. That is what we are meant to feel, the depth of Ellie’s remorse and sorrow.

Instead, the non-linear structure makes us Ellie with amnesia. We are still expected to feel her pain and anger in that terrible moment, but without any of the important memories that make Joel’s death so meaningful.

That’s why Joel has to undergo a brutal and grotesque death. It’s the only way we, as the audience, can feel much of anything without the preceding events that make it whole for the characters it defines, namely Ellie.

His body has to be destroyed because there is no soul, no deeper connection, no matured relationship immediately present for us to mourn then and there beyond what Season 1 established.

I felt the devastation of Joel’s death in Episode 2, but only because I knew the whole story. I have all the pieces to make that moment really matter.

Much like my wife’s reaction to Joel’s death, anyone unfamiliar with Part II’s story is likely more confused and annoyed than sad and angry.

In Season 3, the story could shift focus to Ellie’s quest for revenge, juxtaposed with Abby’s motivations and the larger cycle of violence and revenge they both experience and perpetuate.

Offering a serious, convincing attempt at restructuring The Last of Us isn’t why I am writing. Any linear structure would better serve the themes and characters, whatever that specific structure might look like.

I am just disappointed to see the story and characters unnecessarily subordinated to style and novelty, which aren’t the reasons we fell in love with The Last of Us in the first place.

Of course, who am I to offer criticism, let alone story revisions? After watching Episode 2, my wife responded, “Well, I may not be worthy to cast the first stone, but I will certainly get in line.”

I am also getting in line, along with many other fans, I imagine. But, I’ll trade in my stone for a pitching wedge.

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