Intimacy is the real hero in The Last of Us Part 2
If you’ve been plugged into recent gaming shenanigans, you’ll have probably heard that The Last of Us Part 2 is causing quite a storm. Whether it be because there’s LGBT+ characters now (y’know, despite there being some before) or the narrative has become ‘too political,’ people have a lot to say about Naughty Dog’s latest game.
I, too, had a lot to say before the game came out. The marketing for The Last of Us Part 2 has been troubling to say the least, pitching a game that’s grotesque in its violence, a game about ‘hate’, a game that, at least on the surface level, seems to throw minorities under the bus in order to make us ‘feel something.’ I have yet to finish this game completely, but from my 20 or so hours with it, I am more than certain when I say that the marketing of this game is at odds with its finished product.
Is there violence? Yes. Is there hatred? Most definitely, and without spoiling too much, it’s this hatred that kicks off the main events the game. But is it a game about hate? No, in fact, I feel as though despite you wreaking havoc throughout Seattle, slaughtering group after group, killing animals, The Last of Us Part 2 is a game where love and intimacy is much more powerful than absolutely anything this game tries to feed to me about violence.
Intimacy takes form in many different ways. There’s something beautiful about playing as Ellie and walking through the town of Jackson to see children playing in the snow. It’s not exactly being comforted physically, but it’s a familiarity that, in the world of The Last of Us, shouldn’t even exist. Even though you can’t interact with these children, the fact that they are having fun, sipping hot chocolate and talking between one another is refreshing and tugs at my heart.
Even later on in the game, you have the opportunity to look through Joel’s house. While you could just go straight upstairs to get what you need – and it would be a perfectly valid way to play – the way the game rewards you by giving you small pieces of information about characters through your interaction with their belongings is thrilling. Seeing that, despite everything, Joel also has a basket of washing that’s a mile high, that his favourite mug has an owl on it, or that he keeps his daughter’s picture right next to his one of Ellie says more than words ever could.
Subtle intimacy is found everywhere in The Last of Us Part 2, but even the up and in your face kind is rewarding. Ellie and her ride or die girlfriend, Dina, are an incredible pair and their bond really raises the stakes in a lot of ways. It isn’t just their lines of dialogue that makes me root for them, but it’s the casual way they touch one another – the removing of Ellie’s shirt to help with her wounds, how they help one another up, the caress of a cheek. It’s these moments that stand out more than the violence ever could.
The Last of Us Part 2 may be violent, but to define it as a game about hate disregards the very thin line that concept has with love. Even with every person you kill, your reason for doing so is rooted in love and that, in itself, is familiar in a way that’s complex and compelling.
It’s these moments of quiet, of normalcy, that frames The Last of Us Part 2 as a game about love. All it asks you to do is be open-minded enough to embrace it.
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