the Last of us: season one tgg review

The following is a spoiler-free review of Season 1 of The Last of Us. The series premiered its debut on HBO on January 15th 2023.

Now we don’t really review Tv Shows but with this being game related we thought why not, you may find more like these upcoming with one big segment on the soon to be released DnD movie so we hope you enjoy our Review below.

The best adaptations don’t just imitate their source material but aim to enrich for those familiar with it, while also acting as an entry point for those who aren’t. HBO’s The Last of Us does exactly that: a brilliant retelling of one of video games’ most beloved stories that rebottles the lightning of what made it so special to many in the first place, letting it strike again to stunning effect. Thanks to a pair of phenomenal lead performances and a beautifully executed vision of what it is to find hope and love in a world hellbent on denying it, The Last of Us thrills from the first episode to the last.

The shape of the story will be familiar to any who have played the original game, but that’s not to say you’ll know exactly what’s coming next since deviations are frequently taken. A postpandemic world where pockets of humanity aim to keep afloat amongst a sea of infection, it’s a place brought to stark realisation by showrunner Craig Mazin, aided by the creator of The Last of Us video game, Neil Druckmann. The setup for the plot circles around Joel, a smuggler tasked with couriering a teenage girl west in an America ravaged by a deadly fungal pandemic for the past 20 years. Of course, things don’t go smoothly as danger lurks around every corner in both human and post-human forms, ready to break their evertightening bond.

The Last of Us HBO Series Character Guide

Ellie, who could easily have been reduced to a plot device, is the charismatic heartbeat of the show, simultaneously reminding Joel of what he’s lost, and filling him with a sense of purpose not felt since his darkest day. Love lost is a throughline of the series, but more critical to The Last of Us is the pseudo-paternal love found between the two. Bella Ramsey is simply electrifying as Ellie, effortlessly shifting between delicate vulnerability, youthful excitement, and determined power. She’s a true revelation and deserves all the credit in the world for making her mark on a character whose previous interpretation has been so firmly ingrained in people’s minds. She’s dynamite from the offset, but Ramsey goes from strength to strength in step with Joel and Ellie’s relationship as the season progresses.

Pedro Pascal, meanwhile, brilliantly steps into the well-worn shoes of Joel Miller, southern fried drawl and all, carrying himself in a convincingly experienced and world-weary way. He’s often brooding and quiet – acting as a foil to Ellie’s infectious energy – and able to powerfully express deep emotion through a single look of his eyes. He fits the role perfectly; stoic in the face of adversity and able to position himself at each end of Joel’s emotional spectrum, from warmly caring to ruthlessly violent.

Bella Ramsey is simply electrifying as Ellie.

Solid performances flank the pair as characters weave in and out of Joel and Ellie’s journey. These include Anna Torv as the steely Tess, Gabriel Luna as Joel’s estranged brother Tommy, and Lamar Johnson as the layered and compassionate Henry. Special mention has to go out to Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlett who are unforgettable as the melancholic Bill and Frank respectively. We spend fleeting time with some great performances that act to consistently remind us about the fragility of life. If The Last of Us draws up a Venn diagram made up of good and evil circles then the overlapping middle ground would be heavily overpopulated.

Season 1 packs a lot into its nine episodes, which can leave it feeling slightly rushed on occasion as it hurtles towards its ending. It’s still a conclusion that packs the gut punch it needs to though, and one that’s ultimately earned. That said, I’m well versed in the world of The Last of Us from playing through each of the games multiple times, but I do wonder if the uninitiated may struggle with the number of new concepts and words (FEDRA, Fireflies, cordyceps, etc.) thrown at them consistently in early episodes when the pace is at its most express.

Breathe, and it’s in these pockets that The Last of Us often shines brightest. Yes, seeing recreations of pivotal scenes from the game brought to life offers its own sort of thrill, but it’s most exciting when exploring less trod paths – a case best exemplified by the arrival of Nick Offerman’s Bill. He’s a character given incredible new depth as one handwritten note from the game is expanded into the season’s best hour of television. A heartbreaking account of love being found in a world that all too often tears it apart, it’s a special story elegantly brought to life through tender performances.

It explores themes mirrored through Ellie’s eyes in another later standout episode and is a testament to how love between two people –no matter who they are or who they choose to share it with – perseveres even when the world and bodies physically channelling it fade. It’s a credit to the show’s creators that two hallmark episodes push queer relationships so firmly to the forefront when it would’ve been so easy to sneak them in as a footnote. They’re presented without judgement and with complete celebration. In a post-apocalyptic vacuum that denies any air of happiness to thrive, these rare sparks of life are all the more important and impactful – like fireflies illuminating an abandoned glass jar.

It’s a credit to the show’s creators that two hallmark episodes push queer relationships so firmly to the forefront.

Visually, The Last of Us is often a sight to behold, even when the camera is pointed at firmly ugly subjects. Details like old paint scabbing over walls and fungal veins crawling across floors sweep convincingly through most buildings. Vast landscapes paint pictures of classic westerns, especially as the seasons change and snow carpets the ground. But while The Last of Us is a great-looking show, it’s in its audio that it particularly excels. Distant cries and nearby clicks often echo scarily through scenes in a world so quiet that any sound can be alarming. The original score is also superb, as familiar refrains from Gustavo Santaolalla’s iconic soundtrack sing in harmony with original pieces that pulse and drive their way through some of the more action-heavy moments.

Totally obvious comparisons can be made to The Road, but The Last of Us rarely reaches the levels of unrelenting bleakness that Cormac McCarthy’s novel nor its subsequent film adaptation did. For each helping of the macabre, there’s a small measure of levity or glimmer of light. The Last of Us may present itself as a hopeless world but over the course of a season it reveals plenty that’s worth fighting for, and in that regard is more reminiscent of Alfonso Cuaron’s Children of Men in both its themes and visual identity. Lowsaturated greys, greens, and browns occasionally make way for bursts of flame or the flash of gunfire. Bombed-out cities still present flickers of life and echoes of a civilisation worth saving, with both stories ultimately coming down to the successful smuggling of a young woman and the powers of love and the human spirit when combating mother nature’s cruellest will.

There’s barely a still camera shot throughout, tying thematically into the always-on-the-move nature of the story as we dart from place to place across America. There’s no glamorous Hollywood choreography nor any feats of super heroics. It’s all very human and rustic, bordering on clumsy in its action scenes. You can smell the fear and sweat coming off of Joel during a scrap – rooting the action in each encounter’s desperately tangible stakes. While there are some standout moments of combat, in truth The Last of Us is more interested in showing the fallout of violence than the violence itself, letting the echo of each gunshot ring out long before the next is fired.

Action is used sparingly – but too often shocking effect – as are appearances of the infected. Close ups of the infected and their new, fibrous biology are quite frankly disgusting as fuzzy tendrils crawl out of their mouths like nested xenomorphs. Their mushroomed scalps add layers of fear to each one, each feeling like a genuinely deadly threat regardless of how well-armed Joel and Ellie are. In the game, the presence of the infected is mainly felt through gameplay and combat encounters. As the show isn’t relying on giving a player something to constantly do with their hands, it chooses to instead focus on the human stories existing in this world and does so to great effect. That being said, I couldn’t help but wish for just one or two more clicker appearances over the course of the nine episodes, as we sometimes go through stretches of multiple instalments without a sighting of the terror they can bring.

The Last of Us is more interested in showing the fallout of violence than the violence itself.

On the whole, the plot doesn’t waver too far from its source material but does occasionally stray from the path in order to shine a light on previously unexplored corners of the world. Certain shots or lines of dialogue will have players doing their best Leonardo DiCaprio pointing at the TV impressions, but crucially, these never feel crowded in, instead fitting in perfectly with the aesthetic at play. A liberal use of flashbacks paints a bigger picture of the world at large, giving extra context on both a personal and global level and providing societal snapshots of life both before and after the outbreak.

You really get a sense that Druckmann is relishing revisiting his story and adding in sections, such as an early stopover in Indonesia, that just wouldn’t have made sense to have in the game. It also takes time to explore themes shared with Mazin’s previous work on Chernobyl – primarily the valiant fight of working-class people against hopelessness and failures of government. Never once, though, does it take its eye off of the very personal human impact that a world changed forever makes on its people in different ways. There’s a real sense of a creative partnership working at the peak of its power here as old and new ideas blend, and ultimately triumph.

When setting out to remake Dead Space, the development team at Motive Studio considered adding in a quick turn. This speedy 180-degree spin was an essential part of Resident Evil 4, the game that so inspired the original Dead Space. If it had been included in the Dead Space remake, it would have made combat encounters feel faster, and made protagonist Isaac Clarke nimbler. In the first couple of hours, I would have killed for a quick turn, to make those necromorph fights just a little bit less scary. But the developer has a different motive. No quick turn was added. And Dead Space is significantly more tense, scarier, and more stressful for it. It was the right decision.

It’s this approach that makes Motive’s remake as good as it is. If you played the original game, then everything that you loved about Dead Space is here; it plays true to your memory of the game. The bigger changes that have been made mostly alter things for the better. Awkward zero-gravity jumping is thankfully gone, replaced by the superior Iron Man-style flight from Dead Space 2. And the game’s boss battles, easily one of the weakest areas of the 2008 game, have been massively reworked. They’re still not the strongest sections of the new Dead Space, but they are a big improvement.

It makes sense that Motive and EA didn’t feel the need to completely rework the game from the ground up. Dead Space has always had a slight obsession with the human spine, from the placement of Isaac Clarke’s health-tracking RIG on his back to the design of the USG Ishimura itself, all metallic bone and vertebrae. It’s fitting, then, that the spine of the original Dead Space game is still so solid, not in need of change. The coolest stuff that has been added - some revelatory side quests, Metroidvaniastyle backtracking, and a new alternative ending - is all completely optional. It can enhance the experience for those who want to explore further but is just as easily ignored. It doesn’t intrude, just expands.

For those who never played the original, the premise is just as enticing now as it was fifteen years ago. You arrive on the USG Ishimura, a hulking planet cracker in distress in the far recesses of space, only to discover that an alien infection has taken hold within. The crew may be dead, but they are more dangerous than ever, revived as nightmarish alien zombies, all pointed blades, teeth, and tentacles. The necromorph scourge has spread like a cancer through the Ishimura, and you, playing as engineer Isaac Clarke, are the scalpel, slicing and severing your foes from their limbs with surgical precision. You’re cutting out the rot, with the simple aim of surviving, and escaping.

Dead Space so clearly pulls from the likes of Alien, Event Horizon, and Resident Evil 4, but it’s the game’s limb-lopping combat that still proves so unique to this day. Headshots, still a staple of zombie-killing, are all but useless here. Instead, you’ll need to cut through flesh and bone to remove a necromorph’s appendages and take them down. This becomes even more literal in the Dead Space remake, which utilises a physics-based skin-peeling system for the necromorphs. As a result, you need to be even more precise with your shots than before, cutting through the same bit again and again until the arm, leg, or tail drops off. Luckily, Isaac’s armoury of engineering tools make this a deliciously gory joy.

The iconic Plasma Cutter makes a return as your debut weapon and is just as satisfying to use as always. But it’s Dead Space’s extended arsenal that shines brighter in this remake.

Many of the more underwhelming tools have been reworked, making switching between all seven weapons a more viable option than it once was. The Flamethrower, for example, now deals a lot of damage without burning through ammunition, while the Force Gun strips the flesh from a necromorph’s bones, making it far easier to dismember them, and also offering a beautifully bloody treat for the eyes.

The Dead Space remake really is gorgeous, too. Thanks to its utilitarian, industrial art design, the original game still looks pretty good to this day, but the remake is another cut above. The smoke and steam of the Ishimura’s machinery lends a thick, heavy atmosphere to each location, while the dim lights struggle to pierce through. Medical instruments can be mistaken for the sharp blades of a necromorph through the fog, and you’ll frequently find yourself fighting enemies you can’t see. The new 4K sheen can pull away from the horror and the tension a little, however. In the bright light of day (or of your torch) everything can be a little too clear, undermining the horror. I never thought I’d miss the muddy textures of the Xbox 360, but the grime of the Dead Space remake can look a little too clean, at times.

Thankfully, the game’s outstanding audio design is inescapable. Machine or monster, everything aboard the USG Ishimura is screaming at you. You can hear the thumping and scraping of a malfunctioning door from a few rooms away. Steam escapes from the ship’s machinery with a high-pitched hiss, which could be covering up the sound of a monster creeping up behind you. You can never quite be sure of what you heard, and the music cranks that tension up to eleven, with sharp strings and cymbals that will send your heart racing. It’s a real masterclass of a survival horror soundtrack.

Dead Space is an exemplary game. The original still holds up extremely well, but the remake is excellent in its own regard, fleshing out the story, making smart changes, and hopefully setting the scene for future remakes. Maybe we’ll even get a brand new game? We bloody hope so, because, with excellent combat, wonderful visual design, and one of gaming’s most iconic settings, Dead Space proves to be a must-play survival horror experience. Again.