The Last of Us Part 2 tells an incredibly moving story that, by the end, left me conflicted and heartbroken. While the majority of this emotional trauma can be attributed to carefully constructed writing alongside impressive work by actors, animators and 3D Modellers, in this post I’d like to address how gameplay contributed to the powerful narrative of The Last of Us Part 2.

Level Design

Okay, so this one isn’t exactly gameplay, but its influence on gameplay led to me including it anyway. Every level in The Last of Us Part 2 is built with narrative in mind, but not at the cost of gameplay. One of the best examples of this is the tutorial level, a snowball fight between a group of kids and Dina and Ellie. This stage puts the player in an environment with no significant consequences for mistakes and teaches basic controls and combat strategies, e.g. hide behind cover or crawl underneath certain obstacles to flank and surprise your opponents. The whole fight takes place in a cute playground within the safety of Jackson’s walls and weaves itself smoothly into the narrative. It makes sense that Dina, a character with a playful, cheeky personality, would be enticed into a snowball fight with a bunch of kids when she should instead be heading out on patrol. The whole tutorial feels organic and doesn’t overstay its welcome. Once the player has the mechanics down, they’re free to head on their way.

Another example that sticks in my mind is an early section of Seattle, which presents itself as a kind of open world space. It was perhaps one of the only areas in the game where I actually felt relaxed and provided an excellent point of reference from which the narrative would get darker. Light winds tousle grass that blankets the hills. Colours are distinct and sharp. Enemies are sparse and can only be found within the confines of certain buildings. Dina makes terrible puns as she and Ellie explore, and there’s even a music shop in which Ellie finds a guitar and plays a rather calming cover of ‘Take On Me’. All these small details felt purposeful, and it wasn’t until I’d finished the game and thought back on them that I truly appreciated how they influenced my perception of the world and the narrative. It was a smart way of portraying Ellie’s life at the beginning of her journey, of highlighting the joy that she would then destroy through her obsessive revenge mission.

Atmosphere

While atmosphere is built through a variety of factors in The Last of Us Part 2, in my playthrough it was a gameplay moment that completely shifted how I felt in the in-game world.

I happened to be exploring a building alongside the main road and had found a crafting bench. Such locations are not only sparse in survival horror games, but sacred — a safe haven in which players can improve their gear and catch their breath.

So when I heard footsteps rushing up from behind as I was browsing the gun upgrade menu I was at first confused, then terrified as Ellie was brutally torn from the workbench and attacked. Ripped from safety, I fought as Ellie did — like a wild animal, cornered. A few minutes later and I’d managed to take out all the enemies, but from that moment I was shaken, and I wouldn’t recover until the credits rolled. The game had gone to the effort of reminding me that this was not a safe world, and that Seattle in particular was not a safe city, especially for Ellie. The atmosphere changed because the game defied convention and forced me to take action to survive. Additionally, I became acutely aware that if this could happen once, then it could, and probably would, happen again.

Game Length

This is a long game. With an average playtime of 25 hours, it’s not the kind of experience anyone can expect to gun straight through. While at times this length can get annoying, particularly when the player has just spent upwards of 10 hours fighting their way through Seattle only to have to do it all over again, I found that the frustration and fatigue elicited by such extensive playtime actually worked to compliment the narrative. Ellie and Abby’s arduous experiences are shared by the player, so that everyone involved is wishing they could be finished and heading on their way. Yet every time that final hurdle was leapt, a dozen more appeared. In my case it even began to emulate the negative aspects of Ellie and Abby’s obsessions in my own reality. My sleep schedule began to bend, then break, and I found my whole routine falling apart for a few days as I tried in vain to finish that ‘final stretch’, a stretch that kept on stretching.

Character Switch

The most brutal, driving and controversial aspect of the game is undoubtedly the fact that just as you seemingly reach the climax, you are forced into Abby’s shoes, not for a single flashback, but for another 4 days of survival in Seattle that run parallel to Ellie’s. It was a risky move. I know that some people found this annoying, in large part due to the game’s gargantuan length. To have spent so long struggling through to the story’s climax, only to then have to play the same 4 days all over again, and as the villain?! It’s a disconcerting experience, but as I spent time with Abby and her friends it became clear why Naughty Dog had done it. Abby takes time over the course of these 4 days, as well as with a few extra flashbacks, to consider her revenge mission and the hole it failed to fill. As I watched Abby grapple with the fallout of her obsession, her failed and now unattainable relationship with Owen, her ruined friendship with Mel, and her own perception of self as a savage monster, I began to empathise with her. The game even goes so far as to have Abby take a child, Lev, under her wing, a reflection of Joel’s taking care of Ellie. By the time I snuck into the theatre as Abby, I was torn.

The game wasn’t about to let up though. I was then pitted against Ellie as Abby in a fight that left me emotionally churning. I didn’t want to hurt Ellie, and each digital punch I threw dealt a very real emotional blow. I didn’t want any harm to come to either character, but of course, that isn’t how the game works. Abby, the player, brings Ellie down in a series of button presses and extremely brutal scenes. To rub salt in the wound, this wasn’t even the end of the game — you had to fight Abby as Ellie again hours later, putting you through that same, brutally violent torment all over again.

Conclusion

It makes sense that in a game about the destructive forces of obsession and revenge, empathy would be the weapon employed against the player’s feelings. The way in which level design, atmosphere, game length and character perspective are translated into narrative through gameplay is incredibly intelligent and works to build powerful empathy between the player and the characters. This game feels deeply loved by its creators, and it shows.

Images sourced from https://www.thelastofus.playstation.com/#media