Just like everybody else on the planet with an HBO Max account, I’m absolutely captivated by HBO’s The Last of Us, a stirring TV adaptation of Naughty Dog’s exceptional 2013 video game of the same name. Pedro Pascal and Bella Ramsey are scary good as series stars Joel and Ellie, while the mushroom-headed Clickers, Bloaters and other infected creatures populating the show’s post-apocalyptic ruins are just plain scary. They’re fungi, but they’re not fun guys.
Yikes. If you’re booing, I earned it. I’ll see myself out after
the next few paragraphs.
Because I’m desperate to be an authority on where the series
is going as friends and family gush about the series, I completed the first Last
of Us game a few weeks ago. It took me about 12 hours, and although I’m not
a huge fan of stealth games – the very reason why it has taken me so long to
complete a single playthrough of the first game – I’m glad I took the time and thoroughly
enjoyed the story. Of course, I couldn’t stop there, so I immediately
downloaded The Last of Us Part 2. I’d heard how heart-wrenchingly heavy the 2020 sequel is, and it didn’t sound like something that would be an absolute blast
from a narrative perspective, but I breezed through the first game fairly quickly
and was confident I would do the same for the follow-up. I wouldn’t be depressed
for too long, would I?
I WOULD.
I’d reached the apparent climax to the story at about 12
hours. Stealing an hour or two a night, this had taken me about two weeks. I cried,
I winced, I screamed out loud a few times and I was excited to wrap things up.
But the story didn’t end there. In fact, the game took me back in time, to
replay the previous three days’ events from the perspective of the antagonist.
I was only halfway done.
Damn it all.
There might have been a time in my life when I would have been
stoked to have so much game left to play. I recall many late nights with games
like The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time or Star Wars: Knights of
the Old Republic – worlds and universes I wanted to explore for hours on
end. Yet, with a little less than 12 hours of gameplay remaining, I found
myself frustrated. How dare Naughty Dog painstakingly craft an intricate long-form
narrative dissecting the perils of revenge! Don’t they respect my time?! I’ve got
stuff to do.
After completing my playthrough just an hour prior to this
writing, I couldn’t help but shake that weird feeling that I liked the story –
loved it, even – but I wished it happened in about half the time. Perhaps this
was me coming to grips that I’ve aged out of the core demographic for video
games in general, and they’re not necessarily designed for dudes in their late
30s whose solitary downtime is limited. Or perhaps a pandemic-ravaged dystopia isn’t
exactly somewhere I love escaping to when I’m relaxing. Check the price of eggs
lately. We’re basically living in it.
Regardless, I put down my controller fully satisfied with
the story that was told and look forward to seeing what’s next, both in games
and on HBO Max. To Naughty Dog, thank you. You’ve crafted an incredible and LENGTHY
story that’s becoming an all-time great HBO series as I type. But to all game
developers, I beg you: Make your games shorter. Exhausted Elder Millennials everywhere
will thank you.
It’s not you. It’s us.
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