The Last of Us Review

Apocalypse, the Beautiful

Just look at it.

I hate to be trite and go on about how Naughty Dog's The Last of Us is one of those rare experiences in gaming. The gameplay is not particularly rare, but the story weaved and the treatment of each character within it are indeed quite special. The end result is a game that weighs heavily on the soul hours (or days) after the credits have scrolled.

The game starts in Texas during a climactic moment in the spread of a human variant of the cordyceps fungus. In reality, this fungus is known to possess insects until such time that it strays from its tribe, dies, and grows a large spore spewing growth from its head cavity. In The Last of Us, the fungus turns humans into a type of zombie, constantly desperate to perpetuate itself through bites and scratches. As time goes on, the fungal growth breaks through the skull, turning the person into a wandering drone, constantly clicking and using echo location to find potential victims. I won't delve into the introductory moments so as to avoid spoilers, but it's fair to say that those events dig their claws both into the soul of the male protagonist, Joel, and the player, establishing a somber tale for the remainder of the game.

Joel's story then continues with Ellie, a young woman whom he is tasked with transporting over amazingly large distances and mostly by foot. Ellie is a tough tomboyish character, obviously hardened by growing up in a world of survival of the fittest and witnessing the utmost in violence around her. Like Elizabeth from Bioshock Infinite, despite the purpose of the trip, Ellie is not simply being escorted and protected by her valiant hero. Instead, she is capable of participating in taking down foes, though to a lesser extent. Unlike Elizabeth, she doesn't randomly but predictably find objects to assist Joel in skirmishes, and she occasionally does need to be saved like he does. However, that latter fact is not an annoyance in the least and comes up rarely, especially if you know what you're doing. For the most part, Joel does his thing, and Ellie may or may not be involved.

Ellie, the girl

The Last of Us features gameplay similar to the Uncharted series – third-person shooting with a variety of weapons, some up-close melee, and a functional stealth mechanic. The difference in this experience is that the apocalypse has left the protagonist's approaches rather resource-restricted. You can waltz into a room shooting everyone, but ammo is moderately scarce, and your health is persistent, meaning you need to heal yourself with medical kits in order to recover from grave injury. Time is also a resource, though: healing takes a noticeable amount of time that isn't convenient for firefights, enemy characters change their patrol patterns over time, and silent kills take uncomfortably long.

There are two main sets of foes in this game: the infected and the bandits. (This is to imply that there are other foes, which I won't spoil here.) I've already explained the infected, and the bandits fit the common apocalypse story trope of the people who turn on their fellow men to survive. Where the game deviates from other such stories, such as that of Fallout or I Am Alive, is that Joel has played the bandit before, something that is revealed in an early conversation with Ellie. Although killing to survive is the name of the game you're playing, you are controlling someone who has killed to steal and stand his ground.

As varied and nuanced as Joel can be, his bandit nemeses in some scenarios are so large in population that they are as meaningful to kill as the ridiculous mobs of goons in the Uncharted games. A rudimentary understanding of the bandit archetype easily reveals that men (always men) of such violent and aggressive nature are probably unlikely to band together in such huge groups without attacking each other. Yet, there they are, the disposable people. Whatever weight this game was purported to lend to killing is continually negated as more bodies are thrown on the heap.

Joel, the handsome man...being killed by a clicker

I attempted a stealthy route through these killing fields, which had varying results. The biggest irritation was the false sense of completion to almost every scenario. When Joel murders the "last" guy, it's always signaled by a bolder takedown – instead of silently choking the man out, he will curb stomp him, for example. But over and over, as I begin rummaging for resources, suddenly, I hear the voices of even more men coming, and my heart would deflate. The new aggressors/victims fan out in unpredictable patterns with an almost GPS-like sense of Joel's and Ellie's location.

I suppose it is reasonable for this to happen once or twice, but the frequency was alarming. Joel comes equipped with his own version of Batman's Detective Mode from the Arkham games, lowering his ear near the ground and restricting his movements to listen for enemies' locations. Obviously, this ability is nigh superhuman in its execution, but it is remarkably stunted in its inability to pick up men beyond the door you are trying to reach or to hear the men shooting the breeze waiting for you to eliminate their brethren. This inconsistency is a frustrating immersion breaker. This isn't war; it's survival. You'd imagine that instead of filling areas in distinct waves, these disorganized foes may meander in and out sporadically, making it hard to tell if there even is a last guy.

Upon the second wave, I'd occasionally lose my cool or my own personal energy to maintain stealth, and let shootouts break out. Depending on available weapons and ammo, these controlled rather well. Fumbling with reloading guns and figuring out what to do when you completely run out of ammo for one lead to tense moments where you have to decide to run and hide or beat attackers senseless at risk of exposing oneself. Breaking stealth by accident or on purpose to handle enemies more aggressively worked well. It was during unavoidable shootouts that I'd wonder why I just wasted ten minutes acting stealthily if there was literally no way to proceed to the goal that way. Saving checkpoints are relegated to the beginnings of "encounters" no matter how many waves of enemies there might be, and restarting to try again is sometimes completely unpalatable.

Teaching a bandit to cha-cha!

I don't want to say I couldn't or didn't enjoy these encounters at all because that would be lying. Instead, it felt like I was playing a separate game until I could get back to the game I really wanted to play, which involved rummaging for supplies, reading unlucky victims' journals and letters, solving navigation puzzles, and listening to Naughty Dog's famous idle chitchat between characters. These moments when characters are interacting, either by helping each other cross gaps or by commenting on their surroundings are when the player is invited to bask in the world created for him or her. When Joel and Ellie had company with them, they'd carry on with their own conversations or even perform activities with or without his presence. It's nice to be reminded that there are people in The Last of Us.

There are some positive encounters in the second half of the game which managed to sufficiently blend the combat/stealth gameplay and the story effectively for me. These typically involved a deep sense of urgency for the characters to get to the goal or the next area safely, and I discovered that it was possible to survive some of these without killing everyone (or sometimes anyone). Much like the expected mechanics of the upcoming Republique, sometimes survival would come down to just getting out of there, which worked handsomely. I loved feeling the close call of leaving the scene, my heart beating out of my chest, in contrast to the feeling of eliminating everyone because it's impossible to open the gate without alarming everyone.

Resource collection comes in multiple flavors. On top of ammo, the player needs to find resources to craft items, such as medical kits and shrapnel bombs, supplements to increase various skill levels, generic groupings of parts to enhance weapons, and various memorabilia that enhance the story behind the setting. Opening Joel's backpack does not pause his surroundings, though, and crafting items takes time, so it is best to always be prepared. I played the game on Easy, and I found digging through each room I came across and looking in every possible corner yielded me a constantly full backpack, though some scenarios left me disparagingly low on certain kinds of ammo for quite a while. Melee weapons are all limited in the numbers of times they can be used, and despite the obvious existence of actual knives about, Joel frustratingly only utilizes limited-use crafted shivs to slash foes. It's an ineffective method the developers used to limit the player needlessly.

Getting Ellie to a nunnery was pivotal here.

Regardless, Naughty Dog managed to make the experience of playing The Last of Us unique through their entire presentation. Beginning with the graphics, they have managed to stay on top of this console era with their sublime mastery of the PS3's now seven year-old GPU. The game is, simply put, utterly gorgeous. Many games feature fantastic images of barren plains and sterile offices, made astonishing by effective character models and expert lighting. Well, this game features dirty, gritty, and object-populated environments, also effectively modeled and lit. Not since Uncharted 2: Among Thieves have I been this enamored with trash, but the way the graphics team rendered filthy, garbage-strewn, lived-in environments consistently for the entire game is once again worthy of applause. This game breathes apocalypse whereas some games only begin to emulate it. And don't get me started on the amazing seasonal weather effects, particular that of the snowy winter.

The accolades I can throw upon presentation don't end there, however. Sound design is excellent with realistic object collision sounds and voices becoming appropriately muffled as Joel puts walls between them and the source. (Small critique: if you don't face characters talking to you, they sound like they're coming through by radio sometimes.) The voice acting among the main characters is heartfelt and delivered with a lot of extremely necessary credibility. The personal connections required by the script would sound ridiculous otherwise. Award-winning composer, Gustavo Santaolalla, crafted a hard-hitting and really emotional score to complement the entire experience.

My final act of gushing has to be for the writers. I previously mentioned the absorbing chitchat between characters, but something else I loved was Joel's commentary after picking up letters and journal posts, adding gravitas to them by simple acknowledgement. The whole journal collection game changes when the character doing the collecting elects to voice how he feels about each item. It makes the objects less pointless to pick up. Also, a handful of the bandits would have conversations before beginning their patrols, such as chatting about whether or not the "boss" would activate an old movie projector. These dialogues were appreciated even if they were all we learned of the bandits' desires.

I had better luck than this.

However, the meat of the main narrative is simply one of the most touching and appreciable stories out there in gaming. Whereas I said Bioshock Infinite is worth its ending alone, every moment of The Last of Us' story is valuable and precious. As events degrade, as they are wont to do in these kinds of stories, the moments and interactions between the characters are very heavy and important. No character is introduced without the player getting a full sense of his or her motivations and personality, and certainly, no character is one-note. I could have simply heaped this praise over the opening events and those that unfold shortly after, but my true adoration is for the game's final act. Although the ending is nuanced and difficult and will keep you up at night mulling over, events preceding it are filled with such an emotionally taxing intensity that my heart could have stopped. The story alone sells the game, but even less than that, this section is a shining example of narrative and gameplay marrying to tell a personal tale. It weighs on me as a human being, and I expect it to do the same for others.

Although I would not call The Last of Us the complete package, I recommend it to everyone looking for a deeply and maturely handled story, filled with realistic characters and motivations. I've refrained from commenting on the relationship between Joel and Ellie because I seriously do not want to give away the turns it takes. Their tale, by virtue of them being the consistent factor throughout the game, is obviously the most important, but I also do not want to negate the other stories you'll encounter. I just hope the more typical aspects to the overly hyped gameplay do not dissuade you from taking the plunge.

All images obtained from Game Informer.

BioShock Infinite Review

Storytelling that reaches for the sky

Columbia, the vibrant city in the sky

I loved the original BioShock. It was the first first-person shooter that demanded I play it despite the fact that I didn't play those types of games. There was just something about it that I wanted to experience as soon as it came out. It was given to me as a present, and I ended up buying a $250 video card for my computer so that it would run correctly. I don't regret any of that because my curiosity turned into adoration and excitement as I played through the dark, sunken halls of Rapture. BioShock was a creepy experience that questioned the idea of free will through a unique combat system and deliberate visual design.

Starting BioShock Infinite was a wholly opposite experience. In contrast to the scary, confined spaces of Rapture filled with suspense about what's around the next corner, Columbia, the city in the sky, is an open, bright environment, and it's loud. The game wastes little time into throwing you into a world that you are pressed to comprehend as it's all being thrown at you. You play as Booker DeWitt, a former Pinkerton agent tasked with getting a girl out of Columbia and bringing her to those who have indebted you. As soon as you land, you are confronted with all of what makes the city tick.

Booker walks through a city in celebration of itself with a long trail through confetti and parades and carnival games. There are no shootouts or worries as you travel down the path to the first narrative impetus, and surprising as that may be, it is not the first time Columbia lets you take the world in. These moments were some of my favorite and most treasured. Although I will try not to spend an entire article contrasting BioShock Infinite with its predecessor, I will note that the times I was able to walk freely around and explore helped me believe in Columbia more than Rapture, where once you were done with one task, you had little else to do but head to the next. Columbia is also alive – you get to experience quite a handful of scenarios that place Booker with actual living people, who are not maddened nor are they turning on him at first sight. Once the violence of the game actually does start, walking freely among the living creates a different kind of suspense, where you spend every minute wondering when everything will just go wrong again. You know you aren't safe forever, and you find yourself wanting to lap up every drop of calm you can.

Riding the sky lines like a boss.

Of course, BioShock Infinite doesn't offer a lot of calm, and Booker is forced to defend himself against hordes of foes who try to take him down. To aid, the game offers a slew of guns, whose variety grows insanely larger as you make progress. Booker is also aided by vigors, solutions that offer inhuman abilities once imbibed. Initially, you gain the ability to coerce machines into attacking your foes instead of yourself, but soon after, you are able to throw fiery grenades that aids with concentrated groups. There are eight abilities in all, and each one can be upgraded twice with money found off bodies, in chests and boxes, and on the street. In fact, possessing a vending machine nets you a handful of money. Like ammo to guns, your ability to fire off your vigors is limited by available salts, and each vigor uses a different amount of your salts with use. Although salts can be easy to find both during and after firefights, it becomes imperative to consider which ones you want to use at a given time just in case you'll be taken by surprise before reviving.

The most unique battle aid of all comes after you meet and rescue Elizabeth, the aforementioned girl, who is actually a mysterious young lady imprisoned by the zealous and xenophobic Comstock, leader of this flying marvel of a city. Elizabeth possesses the ability to open "tears" within the environment, which can yield replenishing items, different weapons, or even navigation options. It is this ability that makes her special and wanted by Comstock, but the origins of how that relationship came to be is thoughtfully explained throughout the narrative until the finale.

Although Booker is tasked with bringing Elizabeth out of Columbia, he is thankfully not required to protect her. Unlike Yorda in Ico, Elizabeth is not helpless; she is more like Elena in Uncharted 2 in both positive and negative ways. On one hand, Elizabeth effectively navigates battle arenas without being harmed, and she will often throw ammo, health, and salts that she finds to you as you need them. On the other, she is nigh invincible in a disbelief-suspending way. I watched as she ran right through one of my exploding grenades to take cover, gracefully remaining unfettered as four men melted to ash right next to her. She also has her creepy moments, such as when I watched her take off running down an alley only to pop up right next to me when I ask her to unlock a door, another ability she brings to the table. Since she is not able to unlock doors during battle, I'd be willing to wait the extra ten seconds or so for her to believably walk back to me to help.

Sometimes, the game tries to be creepy like its predecessor.

Very early on, Booker (and eventually, Elizabeth) is granted with a skyhook, a device that allows him to ride rails that connect the various floating islands that make up Columbia and also to bludgeon foes with. The mechanic is certainly new to me, and it can be fun to make your own roller coaster fly-through the expansive environments. However, they also serve a strategic purpose during battle, allowing Booker to fly off to higher ground or cover or to attack foes while he rides. They were such a fun installation that I was a little disappointed about how deliberately they were entered into environments. They always either served a narrative or combat-related purpose and very rarely aided in exploration or finding secrets except in some earlier areas.

I realize that my complaints seem geared towards exploring Columbia despite BioShock Infinite being a first-person shooter. To me, the ability to experience a real, living city in the middle of a first-person shooter was what really shined in this game whereas many games in the genre impress such immediacy that the player is not permitted to bask in the work the designers have created. As a shooter, the game succeeds ably – weapons and abilities work, and there is good variety in both of those and in enemies. But I feel like the game failed to actually make me feel powerful by the end. Surely, I upgraded my weapons and vigors and would pull off crazy stunts like forcing five enemies to float in the air while I attacked them with electric crows followed by a shotgun blast. Those moments, by all means, are integral parts of BioShock's character and appeal.

The problem is that doing all that and then watching the enemies land on the floor and continue attacking you is disheartening. I played on Medium difficulty (recall that I'm the Easy mode guy), and instead of the enemies acting more strategically, they were just bullet sponges, a problem I also had with Uncharted way back when. The worst offenders were the Patriots, robotic effigies of Washington and Lincoln, who were plain immovable, only able to be stunned by the Shock Jockey vigor or similar environmental hazards. Compared to fighting Big Daddies in the original BioShock, these lacked humanity. I was literally fighting statues with mounted chain guns.

If it isn't caucasian, Columbia doesn't like it.

No, the Big Daddies of this game seem to be the Handymen, created from citizens extending their lives with oversized, artificial husks with exposed heart containers. But unlike BioShock, Handymen join the cavalcades of enemies that rain upon you, adding to what becomes an overwhelming insanity circling Booker and Elizabeth. I eventually grew tired of the overpowered combinations of foes the game would throw at me before the final battle sequence, which is mostly an irritating survival mode where Booker must slay round after round of enemies until the game finally gives you the ending you waited for.

Oh, but what an ending it is. The story of Booker trying to take Elizabeth out of Columbia and away from Comstock ends up being a twisting tale of choice, redemption, and freedom. It all culminates in one of the very best finales I have ever witnessed, where a single moment made me feel every emotion my body could handle at once. I was left with my mouth agape as I tried to process what I had just witnessed, and I still had about five more minutes of the ending to play through. It was brilliant and certainly another one of Ken Levine's ouevres that is a must to experience, particularly after one has played through BioShock. Though Booker's own character arc and Elizabeth's rival the predecessor's protagonist quite headily.

Barring the amazing main story and character arcs, the remainder of the writing is great at leaving a fantastic first impression even if much of it is ultimately not resolved. Columbia is a city with a lot of character, not just colored by its scientific innovations and religious overtones but also its political influences. An early sequence in the game perfectly demonstrates just how racist and xenophobic these people are, and Comstock directs them all to a fault.

Religion plays a large part in this game.

Taking place in 1912, black and foreign people take their historically given place at the end of the line in BioShock Infinite. Making no qualms about confronting the very real bigotry that took place in the early 20th century in the United States, people of color and different creed are all in subservient roles, and their portrayal in illustrations and advertisements is villainous and revolting. The downtrodden find their hope through the Vox Populi, a rebel group headed by Daisy Fitzroy, a former servant. When Booker begins his journey, they are mentioned in passing, but eventually the story confronts you with their soldiers and their mantra quite often. The path that storyline takes becomes an excuse for events to occur as opposed to an important driving force behind them, which is a bummer.

There is also the story of Songbird, Elizabeth's jailor and protector before Booker arrives. He is a destructive character that Elizabeth is tied to in an emotional relationship similar to Stockholm syndrome. As the story progresses, Booker is threatened and knocked around as Songbird chases the two partners around Columbia, but it was not as oppressive and continuous as I was expecting. I had hoped for scenarios where I was authentically trying to evade him, either by hiding in shadows or running between safepoints. None of this came to pass, and his arc ends with a surprising moment dulled by his lack of real presence or character development.

A lot of effort was put into conveying a detailed and believable city.

All these elements are honestly fascinating. You find yourself wanting to know more about them, and the characters involved obviously have depth. When you are playing the game and experiencing events with them, your attention is arrested by them. It is more the lasting feeling that leaves you wanting more. Whereas the finale stays in your mind and your heart like a parasite, these other elements are passed like a stone when the game is done. It is a shame because they have such presence, and the Vox Populi storyline is very relevant to race relations today.

Everything I have described is all portrayed through absolutely breathtaking environments and beautiful music. The soundtrack, aside from featuring a compelling score, also features odd covers of songs from later decades in our history, such as "God Only Knows" sung by a barbershop quartet or "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" played on a calliope. Columbia features varying though narrative-driven weather and times of day. Atmospheric effects and excellent color choices make every element of the city pop regardless of the weather. Textures also looked really good up close, with some very weird exceptions like flowers and bushels of apples, but neither of these detract from the awe-inspiring vistas. Character models are overused, though.

One of the moments I was delighted to witness admist all the craziness.

BioShock Infinite is a wild experience. The city of Columbia demands attention, and the story takes the player through some unforgettable sequences while also giving the player ample time to take it all in, a gift from the developer. And it all culminates in a final act worth talking about until Ken Levine's next brainchild comes out. But my major gripes with the combat scenarios and some narrative letdowns prevent this from being the perfect experience I hoped it would be. I love the gift the game has given me despite these things. It's hard to describe without spoiling it, but trust me when I say you must play this story. Just play it on Easy if you're anything like me.

All screenshots taken through Steam.