The Last of Us Season 2: Binge, Fringe, or Singe?
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
Binge, Fringe, or Singe? is our television series that will cover the latest seasons, miniseries, and more. Binge is our recommendation to marathon the reviewed season. Fringe means it won’t be everyone’s favourite show, but is worth a try (maybe there are issues with it). Singe means to avoid the reviewed series at all costs.
Warning: This review contains spoilers for the second season of The Last of Us, as well as the first season and both of the affiliated video games. Reader discretion is advised.
When the first season of HBO’s The Last of Us premiered back in 2023, it was a revelation. Not only could a coveted video game be adapted into something remarkable, but the best adaptation of a video game property ever could amount to being more than just “pretty good.” The Last of Us was once breathtaking: a tug-of-war between grief and responsibility, as we watched a broken man, Joel (Pedro Pascal), in a world that was somehow even more shattered, trying to navigate his way; as an individual; as a guardian; as one of the last remaining people alive. My one concern was the pacing for this first season. It moved far too quickly, and all of the characters who came and went felt anecdotal as opposed to impactful. A brand new character would be introduced as a major antagonist (Kathleen Coghlan), and her departure was even quicker than her thorough exposition. The connection between a bereaving father and a young girl, Ellie (Bella Ramsey), strengthened a little too quickly for audiences to feel as earned as it should have. Nonetheless, we turned a blind eye to these issues (amongst a handful of other similar blemishes) because The Last of Us succeeded in a profusion of ways. The heightened senses of sorrow and dread festooned the first season, with hints of finality at every turn. It’s true that the franchise is called The Last of Us because it depicts the remnants of human civilization after a global outbreak of a Cordyceps infection, but it also represents the last of us: humanity as a collective unit.
The second game, The Last of Us Part II, furthers this notion with the concept of how we lose those closest to us, be it through death (Ellie losing Joel early on as he is brutally murdered by the then-new character, Abby) or other forms of detachment (Ellie sacrificing her relationship with Dina because she cannot let her vengeance go). Therefore, we watch Ellie become further isolated from those who keep her ticking, be it through means against her control (Joel) or via self-sabotage (Dina). Grief is a fickle bastard; I know this all too well, having never fully been the man I once was when my mother passed away two years ago (and, at this rate, I have had to accept that I will never be the same). The Last of Us is the inner struggle with healing, and the allegory of having a world that is equal parts destroyed (the ruins of civilization looming over the mass graves of the infected and slaughtered) and enriched (via the nature that grows through the devastation) has always been a clever one. When you grieve, you appreciate being alive more, but you also will forever feel the rancor of having to go through life without your loved one. When Joel connects with Ellie, he isn’t replacing his deceased daughter but, rather, finding purpose to remain alive in a world that is hospitable as a planet but beyond dead as a nation.
We concluded the first season with the ultimate sacrifice. Joel successfully brings Ellie to the head base of the Fireflies (a resistance-based squad pushing against the fascist ways of the Federal Disaster Response Agency, or FEDRA). Ellie is immune to infection because she was birthed while her mother was attacked by a Runner (someone at an early stage of infection), granting newborn Ellie with a vaccination of sorts; this explanation is found only in the series, as the video games — to the best of my knowledge — never gets into why Ellie is immune. Ellie is to be delivered by Joel to the Fireflies so they can figure out a cure to save humanity once and for all. Once Joel learns that Ellie would die in the process, he couldn’t go through the thought of losing another child (he bonds with Ellie over the course of this journey to the point that they are like father and daughter). He sacrifices the saving of humanity for the protection of his daughter-figure. In the magnificent third episode “Long, Long Time” — a one-off featuring the couple Bill and Frank — Bill turns to Frank to thank him upon the latter’s last day alive. He acknowledges that living life is all about finding purpose, to which he concludes, looking at an ailing Frank, “You were my purpose,” before vowing to die alongside his partner. Ellie is Joel’s purpose, even if it has precluded the saving of humanity (then again, it was never certain if experimenting on Ellie would have even succeeded in creating a cure, but it was the best shot the world had).
Before I continue, I want to preface the remainder of this review by proclaiming myself to be a massive fan of the The Last of Us video games. Yes. Both of them. The first game may be on my Mount Rushmore of video games, and I consider it perfect (my Fireflies tattoo may prove this opinion). I also consider the highly polarizing second part to be a brilliant video game; as someone who adores Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, I don’t have a problem with a video game pulling the rug from underneath me, changing the protagonist of the game I am in the middle of playing, and challenging me to question what I am experiencing. I don’t think the second game is quite as good as The Last of Us, but that has more to do with the first installment being nearly untouchable by most games, rather than any reservations I have with Part II (I am certainly not in the camp who feel that the game is poorly written or an antithesis of what the first game represents). Even if I despised Part II, I will never judge an adaptation based on its relationship to the source material but, instead, on its own merits. I don’t care what the series does differently from the games as long as the end result is good. With all of this in mind, let us continue.
The Last of Us’ second season kicks off with a bang and similar enough to the video game that it appeared that Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann (the whom directed and wrote both of the The Last of Us games, either alone or with partners) were sticking closely to the source material. I consider Part II quite strong with its writing and direction, so this wasn’t necessarily a bad choice to make. I just worried about the pacing that made the first season feel a little hurried. In the games, you can take as long as you like to carry out missions or objectives. The show doesn’t have that luxury, but even during its best episodes, I wished that The Last of Us slowed down and appreciated the spaces in between the noise. We cut to five years after the events of the season 1 finale. Ellie and Joel are still at the Jackson commune and are integrated within the society there; the kicker is that they have a rift in between them. It isn’t apparent at first, but it is later revealed that Ellie resents Joel for dooming humanity by saving her life (she makes a discovery after Joel lies to her). Meanwhile, there are quite a few new characters, including Dina (Isabela Merced) who has been elevated in terms of prominence in the series compared to the second game. Here, she is close with Joel similarly to how Ellie once was. Dina is also Ellie’s love interest (as was true in the game as well) after breaking up with another local, Jesse (Young Mazino). Dina acts as a vessel between Joel and Ellie for two episodes, purveying the information that they wish not to share directly with one another.
Then there is Abby (Kaitlyn Dever). Gamers already know her story well, but those who have only tuned in to the television series were introduced to her as the daughter of a doctor who was murdered by Joel in cold blood in the season 1 finale (Abby’s father was one of the practitioners who was to work on Ellie to create a cure). She promises revenge and goes on a five-year-long quest to find and kill Joel. Conveniently, season 2 starts where Abby needs it to, as she comes across Joel in the second episode (“Through the Valley”). This is after Ellie and Joel drift even further apart following a New Year’s Eve party (where Joel punches a bigot for singling out Ellie and Dina’s public displays of affection, and Ellie dismisses Joel’s efforts as a means of trying to get back into her life). Joel and Dina go on patrol when Abby — who is in deep trouble with a hoard of infected — is spotted. The Joel of old is no more: he is now in his sixties and softened after years in the Jackson commune. He was once never trusting of others, but here he gives Abby — the wrong person — the benefit of the doubt and rescues her. Abby tricks Joel and Dina into going to an abandoned lodge near Jackson, where other members of Abby’s crew (all members of the paramilitary group, the Washington Liberation Front [WLF for short]) were stationed. This becomes a trap that ensnares both Joel and Dina, with the opportunity for Abby to exact her revenge.
Meanwhile, there’s a lot going on elsewhere. The Jackson commune is under siege as a smarter wave of infected targets it (using the spreading tendrils that were previously found within the pipelines of Jackson, I assume). Joel’s brother, Tommy (Gabriel Luna), and others stage a defense to try and keep the infected out. This become a bloodbath of both infected and civilians as a Bloater (someone who is in the later stages of being infected to the point of mutating to behemoth proportions and strength) breaks down the Jackson wall, allowing for hundreds of infected to infiltrate the once-protected commune. Before the attacks got this messy, Ellie — still angry at Joel — begins to worry when Joel and Dina aren’t back from their patrol. She leaves Jackson to search for them, which ultimately leads her to the very lodge that they are held at. Joel is held there against his will, unable to go back to what he can see from afar is a Jackson on fire (only to worry if Ellie, Tommy, and other loved ones are dying, and there’s nothing he can do to save them here). Abby doesn’t care. She cripples Joel with a shotgun blast to the knee and promises to torture him very slowly (reducing him to mush with just the pummeling of fists alone for most of the abuse).
Ellie finally finds Joel and an unconscious Dina before she is intercepted as well and forced to watch the coup de grâce: Abby taking a nine iron to Joel a few times, and then taking the broken shaft and lunging it into his neck. This gruesome twist made an already-intense episode and made it a pulverizing hour of television (and one of the best entries in the The Last of Us series by a mile). It was clear that the series would never be the same now that Joel (and, as a result, Pascal) was mainly gone (outside of the penultimate episode of the season: a flashback entry that shows the events between the first season and the schism between Joel and Ellie that would ensue). However, just because the series was to be different, does that mean it had to flounder as much as it has for numerous episodes since? No, and while I won’t be melodramatic and say that the second season is terrible (it’s pretty good, but abundantly flawed), it’s evident that the series wasn’t sure how to handle the series after Joel’s death (despite, you know, the source material that managed to keep going after the same plot point occurred).
The Last of Us takes a noticeable dip in quality in its second season.
The third episode, “The Path,” isn’t a part of that equation. I feel like it is the necessary de-accelerator that the series has always needed. In the game, you march forward after Joel’s death and keep going. This episode allows Ellie and company to properly process Joel’s murder (to the best of their abilities) before wondering how to reciprocate this event (all while Jackson heals). It is from this point onward, especially the episode “Day One,” that the biggest issues with The Last of Us begin. While I am not aiming to make comparisons between the game and the show, Ellie is a jaded, scornful person when she goes on the hunt for Abby in retaliation. In the show, Ellie hides behind false positivity and joy which is a character trait that is interesting for only so long; Ellie should have cracked sooner because her character is reduced to near-infantilization at this point. Much of Ellie’s directness, fury, and calculative ways has been passed on to Dina, as if the series either didn’t have faith in Ramsey’s portrayal as Ellie as a lead actor, or that Joel needed to be replaced by Joel 2.0 (or, honestly, both). I have no issues with the show deviating from the game (how they rewrote Bill and Frank was exemplary), but I do feel like the series is stunting itself. If this narrative is about the pain of loss, why are we softening the blow?
Seeing as I have brought up “Long, Long Time” again, I also believe that the second season has tried to not just hearken back to this stand-alone episode but outright recreate it via Ellie and Dina’s relationship, from the scene of Ellie playing Pearl Jam’s “Future Days” on guitar (with the same vulnerability of Bill playing the titular Linda Rondstadt staple on piano for Frank) to the creation of purpose to keep on surviving. Eliminating the queer aspect of these parallels because I don’t think it needs to apply to this point, I almost feel like the series desired to catch lightning in a bottle again. I don’t have an issue with callbacks or the repetition of themes and ideas; in fact, I encourage it, especially so that “Long, Long Time” feels uniform with the rest of the series. However, when this means that two episodes are devoted towards dialing down Ellie’s apparent rage, glossing over important revelations in favour of sentimentality, and hurrying along the post-apocalyptic threads in favour of the romance at the forefront, I feel like the series suffers. Why doesn’t Dina care to know more about Ellie’s miraculous invulnerability right away? How can no one hear Ellie and Dina talk at full volume when they are approaching the WLF Seattle base? Why couldn’t we see Jesse tailing Dellie (as they’re affectionately known online) before he shows up at precisely the last second? Why can’t we get more clues as to how Ellie is truly feeling underneath her false glee? “Long, Long Time” is a fable of an entire relationship that is self contained. Trying to achieve something similar for multiple episodes — all within a fraction of both Ellie and Dina’s storylines — is a well-intentioned misfire.
Outside of the third and sixth episodes (which act as means of slowing things down, enumerating the finer things before we proceed into the darkness ahead), season 2 is somehow worse with the pacing issues, despite the intention to stretch out the second game into two seasons (the third season will clearly focus on Abby’s perspective of things, as well as the last third of the Part II game between Ellie and Abby’s characters). Once Ellie and Dina trek to Seattle in search of Abby, logic gets tossed out the window enough times. Ellie activates the generator in the movie theatre she and Dina are staying at to turn on the lights in the middle of the day (furthermore, how would this not attract nearby infected, or either FEDRA, WLF, or Seraphites, the latter being a cult that was introduced this season). Ellie and Dina’s horse is left in the abandoned record shop and never acknowledged again even though both characters clearly shared a connection with it. Dina finds out she is expecting Jesse’s baby by using pregnancy tests which are most likely beyond expired at this point in the apocalyptic timeline. I could keep going, but you get the idea. The series is now racing through plot points to squish most of Ellie’s Part II narrative into seven episodes when it honestly doesn’t have to. When episodes can be an hour long, could Ellie not explain to Dina her immunity for two extra minutes in an episode that is already around fifty? Could we not have had hints that Jesse was following Ellie and Dina — even if mysteriously and without a clear depiction that it is him and not an enemy — sprinkled throughout the two episodes that focus on the trek to Seattle? These aren’t even big asks when The Last of Us could slow things down far more than just brief, periodic pauses.
All things considered, The Last of Us’ second season is still good. It just isn’t great, outside of standout episodes. It feels less assured as to what it wants to achieve with its themes, tone, and story. Even so, I feel like the heart of the series is still ticking and it is bright enough to keep the show’s momentum going. When there is a clunky line of dialogue (like Dina calling Ellie “non-school oriented” when there must be a simpler way to convey this point across), the chemistry between Ellie and Dina makes this odd statement endearing (at least partially). When the show moves along too quickly, the wonderful production design at least makes these momentary stays captivating (even if the hair and makeup department making our post-apocalyptic characters look too nice has been noticeable lately). There are still things to positively take away from this season, mainly the second and sixth episodes (one can point to Joel’s presence in both being a major reason why, but I also think this is indicative of the show being at its best when it is actually dealing with themes of desperation and grief).
Not once have I felt unhappy to watch The Last of Us, but I feel like this show that was once exhilerating has become just good enough; it was once must-watch entertainment, but is now something to watch if you are interested. A series that is so focused on loss and mortality shouldn’t be tiptoeing around this subject as much as it does in this second season (you can cane both joy and sadness without being too invested in one over the other). I’m still fond enough of what I see, but I cannot help but mourn what once was: one of the finest shows riding out the death of the Golden Age of Television. It no longer stands out amongst the rest of what is out there, and it saddens me when there was such promise. I am intrigued to see what the Abby-centred season brings, but the series will be finished in one or two seasons at this rate (which, sadly, may be for the best if it continues to dip in quality).
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.