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likefromtheoffice · 4 years

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What I Had To Do - TLoUII SPOILERS

I started feeling compelled to write a deep reflection on The Last of Us Part II when it became clear I was going to be playing as Abby for quite some time. Like everyone else, I imagine, I had made up my mind about Abby almost immediately. She would die, and I would be the one to do it. I didn’t want to play as Abby, I wanted to not move the controller and just have her die. But the game makes the choices here.

Of course, knowing Naughty Dog and expecting the level of quality I did from this game, there was certainly a reason we were slated to spend so much time with her. While I ultimately came to respect this choice, it was plain to see that the game was going to attempt to change our minds about Abby, to show us how she came to be the person she is and how she was driven to do the things she had done. For this reason, I was not engaged in Abby’s story. Because, like I said, I’d already made up my mind.

The brilliantly-handled revelation of her father being the surgeon the player is forced to kill in the first game was enough to fully humanize this woman who, in the space after she kills Joel up until she is hoisted in the Seraphite noose is surely the most viciously despised character on Playstation. Even though I kept the difficulty low in order to breeze through her portion of the story, I admittedly did eat my words: “If they can change my mind about Abby, I’ll be shocked.” My mind was changed just about as much as Abby’s heart changed throughout her ~10 hours of game time. She ends up doing almost exactly what Joel does for Ellie for a very similar reason, although Lev’s brain can’t save the world.

When I found Abby at the Pillars, I had already decided that if the game were to give me the option to press Square to kill Abby or circle to let her live, I’d smash the circle button. When Ellie says “I can’t let you leave,” I thought to myself, “yes, let’s actually do let her leave, but we probably should fuck her up a little bit, right?” Fuck her up we did, but of course the game isn’t base enough to trivialize the story it’s told over 20+ hours by letting you funnel out all your rage with a button press, completely destroying Ellie’s and Lev’s lives with a single click.

So ultimately, Abby’s segment shows us a lot about the world we’re living in inside this game, and the metaphor of warring clans with their own agendas and perspectives very directly reflects the distilled personal motivations behind Abby’s and Ellie’s actions. I said a hundred times that Abby’s section was too long, and I think I’d drastically shorten the first act. I don’t think we needed to stroll through the base and see kids taking classes in an attempt to humanize and raise the stakes for her. When we’re forced to play as her, we are not interested in what is happening. You could start with information about Owen and the coming attack on the Island. A lot of Abby’s section felt like Druckmann knowing that we need more hours for $60. But this may have been because until Lev’s mother dies in her cabin, I still wanted to watch her die.

This is where it all changed for me, except for the feeling that her segment was still too long. One thing this segment does perfectly and to hopefully great and continued effect, is to show us--more than the game already has--that LGBTQI+ stories are now a part of our human experience, and these people will be in the stories we tell. And it won’t be a fucking big deal. “Do you want me to ask about it?” “No.”

I was able to stay almost entirely blind to the promotional materials for Part II. When I started the game at 11pm CST, I knew only that there was a guitar, there was a fight in a shopping area, and there was a real bad person cutting a hanging guy’s stomach open. I was also able to avoid anyone’s conjecture about the game, but in seeking the opinions of others after I’d completed it, I’ve discovered the bizarre criticisms about the narrative. Namely, being forced to play as Abby for so long and having “social issues” shoved in their face when they’re “just trying to play the game.” I had a problem with the Abby segment even after I began to see its purpose, but eventually it cracked me open in the way it intended. In making me do the things she’d done, I was of course forced to fully realize her perspective from the moment we’re put over her shoulder instead. But the latter issue is what bothers me to no end, and it’s upsetting that we’re still here as gamers.

If someone has a problem with Ellie’s sexuality or coming of age, Dina’s sexuality, Lev’s gender identity, or the fact that all our main characters are women, then the only hope I have for that player is that they might see themselves in Seth. Seth is the physically oldest character we see in the game, and he is the only character who has any problem with what he’s seeing. He’s alone in his bigotry and he is weak. He will die very soon and he will do nothing meaningful before then, aside from being forced to make free steak sandwiches for those he has hurt by those who are in power and do not take his side. If this hypothetical--although very real--player fails to make this revelation and turn this corner, if that person still disapproves of the story being told, my question to them would be: “did you accidentally buy this when you meant to download Call of Duty: Warzone?” If you’re not playing the game for the story, you should just play a game where you’re always shooting things. If you are playing the game for the story and you have a problem with the story, also fuck off to Call of Duty. I use Call of Duty here because it’s mainstream and not objectionable and you are holding the trigger through most of the game where the story doesn’t matter if you don’t want it to, not because I have a problem with its playerbase or the games themselves.

The dissent I still cling to is that it’s difficult to ratchet intensity upward and keep motivation high when you know the character has to survive because you’ve seen a future piece of the story--especially when you don’t want them to survive. This was most sharply upsetting when I was still playing as Abby after she shoots Jesse and Tommy in their heads. I felt like tossing the controller and quitting. The only reason I can think of for this choice is that the trope of unwinnable fights in games exposes the guts therein. For me, though, this exposed them even more. I would rather have tried very hard to kill Abby and then have her overpower me with those cannon arms and watch the devastating Dina scene play out. It’s what I wanted just then, and was undoubtedly what Ellie wanted. This would have aligned me more with her, the character who I would still side with instantly and unquestionably. It was so strange to fight Ellie’s AI, particularly because the computer does not play her like I do, and for the only portion in the entire game, she was not human. I understand what this rigid perspective attempts to illustrate, but the choice still puzzles me greatly.

While I am still able to see why the game did it and why it was necessary, there was no way I was ever going to care about the Jackson Crew. This made playing with Manny and Mel very frustrating. Owen’s meta-perspective philosophizing about how none of the clans are actually any different from each other was interesting, but it was not touched on for very long, and now seems to only have been there to benefit Abby’s journey toward her own perspective-altering events. I see this as the only other true failing of the game, although I don’t have any idea how it could’ve been done differently. Aside from being shorter.

The reason everyone hates playing as Abby is because very few narratives have ever fully explored the other side of a conflict, and for us to be forced to see that, to play as The Bad Guy for so long, is something we’re absolutely going to hate for a long time. It does, or it should if you’re paying attention, eventually do exactly what it’s supposed to do. When Abby becomes human, we can then say that we’ve experienced the story up to that point. We are almost never shown this, much less forced to do it.

Another thing I’m stuck on but can’t suss out is the theme of pregnancy and innocence. Of course, an unborn baby is completely innocent even in an overgrown hellscape. Where this is most effectively employed is when the knife is at Dina’s throat. “Good.” Maybe the most terrifying line in the whole pair of games. It shows us the depth of hatred these women have fallen to, and how, like the player controlling Joel or Ellie or Abby in parts I and II, when we have to survive, it doesn’t matter what’s going on in anyone else’s life. If we feel someone has wronged us, we take everything from them and don’t consider the consequences. This game does show us our own actions very plainly, and the ultimate consequence could not have been more beautifully shown than in the final chronological scene in Part II. In following her own anger--combined with Tommy’s--she has damaged her connection to the very reason she followed it. She cannot play the song she shared with Joel without wounds appearing in the music itself.

Ultimately, the story told here is about violence. Why, how, and when it is employed, the unexpected casualties thereof, and how it changes the world for everyone connected to it. Love, hate, survival, revenge, and so many more. Joel protecting Ellie ended a lot of lives--starting as duty and perverting into misguided redemption and love. Abby avenging her father ended a lot of lives--starting as revenge and ending as duty and love. The cyclical implication is very clear as we come to blows between the two rowboats, although it is--like many other gigantic story moments--masterfully left un-hinted-at. If Ellie were to have held Abby under the water for a minute more and Lev were to survive somehow, we’d have ourselves a Part III for almost the same reason which started us down the troubling path of Part II. Can you imagine Ellie looking into the boat at a broken and unconscious Lev? Would she have felt something similar to looking over the bars of JJ’s crib?

What a lot of games don’t bother to explore is what violence takes away from those who employ it, no matter the reason for their doing so. When Ellie walks away from the farmhouse where her family used to live, leaving the last object connecting her to Joel there at the window, I was devastated, as I’m sure we all were and as I’m sure the storytellers intended. Through the deeply troubled feeling Naughty Dog left me with, I was searching for meaning, like Ellie was after seeing those giraffes: “After all we’ve been through. Everything that I’ve done. It can’t be for nothing.” What was it for? It seemed like it was going to be difficult to determine when the credits started to roll, but when it appeared to me, I was embarrassed it had taken me so long to figure out. Everyone was led to their devastating conclusion by the same driving force: love.

There’s also been a fair bit of talk about how bleak the outcome is, and how hopeless everything seems. This observation comes down to how deeply we’re hit by Abby’s boat disappearing into the fog as we sit entirely alone, physically and emotionally less than we’ve been so far, and how the ending and outlook of the whole game isn’t really what we want right now because our world doesn’t need a lot of help in the bleak category. Of course we want everything to work out, and we are so used to video games giving us what we want. Tragedy doesn’t cater to the wants of the audience, and the weight of this tragedy is gargantuan. What a knee jerk dismissal of the story would rob you of is the incredible contrast. I finished the game eight days ago and I’ve probably watched the dance scene at least once per day since. How gorgeous. “Oh, Ellie…” says Dina. To feel this moment fully, knowing its the beginning of a beautiful thing that can’t last, is a gift rarely given to any audience or player. It does so much so deeply in 3.5 minutes. That scene in itself shows us that this isn’t what we’re used to, and the bit of Joel and Ellie’s interaction we get in that scene also demonstrates that the things we care most about are not okay right now. We were Joel more than Ellie in the first game and we protected her. We saved her. We want to continue to protect her.

But the decisions Joel made in the hospital guaranteed things would never be okay. What is it that these folks want from the ending? “You killed Abby! Congratulations! Ellie went on to found Joel Miller Memorial Research Center, where a cure was eventually reverse-engineered from a culture of bacteria extracted from Ellie’s intestine. Dina eventually forgave Ellie, and invited her to live with her and JJ inside the walls of Jackson where they dance, free from hatred and despair, every Thursday night.”

It’s hyperbolic, sure, but what a fucking waste that would be. What we have instead is a seemingly insurmountable sorrow which wraps around a glowing core of warmth and beauty which we’ve seen firsthand throughout both games, begging us to discuss and reflect and analyze and feel. Is the ending really entirely hopeless if Ellie puts down and leaves behind the guitar which attached her to Joel? I don’t know if she’s wearing or still has the watch, I’d have to see the cutscenes again. But she’s walking away from it, finally. What could she be walking toward?

Finally, there is one piece of storytelling after the credits, not a cutscene or a piece of text. The iconic title screen rowboat which we assume Ellie rides away in is replaced with its twin, dragged up onto the shore near Abby & Lev’s beached fishing boat. I’m having trouble putting what I believe this means into words that don’t sound too disgustingly sunny, but if Abby and Ellie, these two veritable destroyers are now free from the searing chains of revenge, and we’ve seen their allegiances shift and their hearts fundamentally changed, imagining the good they’re capable of isn’t too terribly difficult a task. That’s disgustingly sunny to even type out, but I believe it’s supported. It’s very clear that at this point, both parties deserve and have earned peace, inside and out.

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