I think I’ve been
playing this game the wrong way.
Warning: Minor spoilers for the first few hours
of the game. Nothing too extensive,
though -- and it’s stuff you could intuit just by looking at the box art.
But I guess it’s coming
back to bite me. Ignoring the fact that
it’s led to several (dozen) losses in Ultimate
Marvel vs. Capcom 3 -- sometimes known by its nicknames “Which Way Do I
Block?” and “Oh My God Get Back Here And Stop Moving Around So Much” -- it
means that sequences that can take some people a short, reasonable amount of
time force me to spend double or triple the time, and yet experience less. As you can imagine, this has led to my pace
in The Last of Us being
particularly…leisurely.
And that’s where the
problems start popping up. I only
started playing the game a few days ago (this past Wednesday, IIRC), and I’ve
just gotten past the prologue. Or at
least, the section of the game I’m calling the prologue. And as it stands, there’s one question that’s
been on my mind for a while.
“Soooooo…when does this
game start getting good?”
I’m not trying to hate
on this game. I’m not. It’d be easy for me to do so, because it’s
gritty, and it’s a triple-A game, and it’s in a post-apocalyptic world, and it
has zombies du jour, but dammit I’m trying to like this game. I really am.
I’m trying to give it a fair shake, and see if it’s really worthy of so
many TENOUTTATENS, universal praise, hype, and all of the feels the gaming
community can muster. I’ll readily
accept that this is Game of the Year material…that is, as soon as I find the Game of the Year material.
Don’t get me
wrong. The Last of Us is still a good game; you can definitely,
definitely, definitely do a hell of a
lot worse than a title like this. That
said, I expected a game with such a high pedigree (and word of mouth) to drag
me by the neck on a thrill ride and emotional rollercoaster from the
outset. Thus far, “drag” is the best
word you can use for this situation. How
much the game drags may vary from player to player -- my brother seemed
genuinely surprised by my lack of progress -- and there are glimmers of
brighter days ahead -- again, my brother says that once I reach some mythical
“Bill’s house” the story “starts to pick up” -- but for now, all I can do is
report my findings and my opinions. Take
this all with a grain of salt. And by
grain I mean bowl.
All right. Here is the immediate problem I have with the
“prologue.” Look at the box art:
See that? Two characters, Joel and Ellie. Those are our leads, presumably. (I’m betting that one or both of them will
die/get infected by game’s end, but let’s leave plot predictions out of this
for now.) Even if you’re like me and
haven’t followed the game’s development or details very closely, you know that
it’s going to be a game about Joel and Ellie fighting off zombies as they go
from place to place. Fair enough. I can
live with that -- and I outright welcome it.
The issue that I have with the prologue is that I’m just now getting to the “Joel and Ellie” part of the equation
after…what, eight hours? It’s hard to
say how much time I’ve put into the game at the moment, but I can tell you
right now that when I first sat down with the game I played it for two
hours. And two hours might give you maybe three enemy skirmishes.
To be fair, it doesn’t
take that long for Joel and Ellie to meet and start traveling together…well,
relatively speaking. But the game goes
through immense strides to delay pretty much everything promised and expected of
it. And to me, it just feels like
everything before Joel and Ellie’s excellent adventure is a fat load of wasted
time.
The first moments of
the game, while not awful in their own right, are eerily revealing about both
what I’m talking about and what I expect for the rest of the game. It doesn’t throw you in the midst of the
action, and it doesn’t even have you in the middle of the touted
post-apocalypse. Instead, it starts off
with Joel and his daughter Sarah late one night. She stays up late (or at least tries to) so
she can give her dad a watch for his birthday.
The two of them toss a few jokes back and forth, she falls asleep on the
couch, Joel carts her off to bed in his arms, and you know damn well she tripped every death flag in the book.
I’ve known the game is
about Joel and Ellie for at least a year.
I know that Joel is going to play surrogate father to Ellie, not
biological father to this new girl. Why
not get to that as quickly as possible? Why
give us a character whose sole purpose in the game is to A) die, B) inject some
tragedy into Joel’s life and backstory, C) wring out sympathy from the player,
and D) die? It just comes off as
unnecessary -- doubly so because we don’t really get to learn about Joel, his
daughter, or his brother (who joins in on the fun a bit later). The takeaway from the sequence is supposed to
be…what, Joel loves his daughter and is sad when she dies? Game of the Year!
It’s easy for me to
leverage complaints, but even so I can see why they’d take this route -- and in
some respects, I actually like what they did.
When you actually get to start playing, you’re not doing so as Joel, but
the young Sarah (young in this case being tweenage, give or take). You walk around their house the night the
zombie apocalypse begins in earnest; Sarah looks around for her dad at a slow
and cautious pace, taking note of less-than-calming news reports and explosions
in the distance. The most that the
player can do when a zombified neighbor -- technically not a zombie, but let’s
not kid ourselves here, Last of Us --
breaks in and tries to go on the attack is cower behind Joel as he gives him a
taste of hot lead. Then, when Sarah and
Joel climb into Uncle Tommy’s truck to try and find sanctuary, the player (as
Sarah) can’t do much more besides shift around in the backseat looking at how,
yes, shit’s goin’ down.
This sequence, if you
ask me, does a few things right and a few things wrong. What I like is the perspective and
establishment offered here; it’ll be a long while before the player even has a
gun, let alone uses it. As such, there’s
a sense of helplessness and confusion exacerbated by playing as Sarah and -- in
one literal instance -- clinging to her father’s leg. It really hammers in that the world is being
forced to change, and it all starts with one climactic night. That said, Naughty Dog really shows its hand
when it comes to the game’s design philosophy; there’s trying to tell a story,
and there’s making a barely-interactive movie.
The opening sequence has
virtually no gameplay to speak of besides walking around, looking at stuff, and
watching cutscenes. Even when you take
control of Joel after Not-Ellie-Yet gets her leg broken in a car crash, the
most you can do is walk exactly where and when Tommy tells you along a set
path. And before you ask, yes, if you
stray too far off the path -- as in a few steps out of line -- you die instantly. Nice to see you’re borrowing from the Call of Duty school of thought, Naughty
Dog. Game of the Year!
There’s not really much
to say or nitpick from the opening sequence, when all’s said and done. It’s there and gone before long, doing its
job in the way it sees fit. It introduces
two characters, shows us glimpses of the world before (and as) it breaks down,
and offers a bit of notable, if forced, emotional torque. It’s not the greatest opening ever, but it
works.
But it could have been
stronger. Like I said, we don’t really
learn much about Joel in this sequence -- so my thinking is, why not remove him
entirely? Why not make the girl we play
as some random girl in the same area?
Surely she has a father and mother as well, and as such we can learn
about the troubles the world’s about to face through a fresh lens. Or alternatively, why not just give us some
random girl and no other family members? Put her in the middle of the city (or
somewhere near it), and have her experience the action first-hand after a few
moments of quiet and calm. Like she’s
home alone, goes out to investigate a noise, and then shit gets real.
Or if showing Joel is
an absolute necessity, give him and his daughter more time to develop than just
a few minutes of screen time before the chaos starts. Set it 24 hours before the chaos starts. Let them explore the city together. Or show Joel on the job, running through his
daily routine while thinking about his daughter and wondering what (if
anything) she did for his birthday. If
they’re going to have a sequence like this, they needed to do more with
it. What we’ve got is good, but it could
have easily been great…especially
considering that there’s a twenty-year flash forward that makes all those
events only vaguely connected to the current plot.
So the actual game
starts out with Joel -- who’s now in his fifties, at a bare minimum -- undertaking
a mission to get his group’s weapons back from a traitor, Robert. So he’s off on a seemingly-simple trek
through the transformed world, ready to brave whatever no-goodniks come his
way. Thing is, he’s not alone; he’ll
have his lady friend Tess coming along to give him support. Aaaaaaaaaaaand here’s where the problems
start popping up -- even more problems than before.
This is what Tess looks
like.
This is the box art.
Do you see Tess on the
box art? No? No Tess?
That’s right, no Tess. No Tess on
the box art. Joel’s on the box, Ellie’s
on the box, no Tess on the box. The
death flag is flying at full-mast from the moment you meet this woman. That wouldn’t be so bad if she offered up
something in exchange for her presence, but she comes off as such a third wheel
-- even before she and Joel meet up with Ellie -- that she ends up subtracting
from the story AND the game with her presence alone.
Inevitable comparisons
are going to come up between this game and BioShock
Infinite, which isn’t so bad in its own right…EXCEPT that if you asked me
to compare the two, then at the moment I have to give higher honors to Infinite. Like it or not, both games are decidedly
linear, but Infinite has the
advantage in world-rendering independent of aesthetics; if nothing else, that
game managed to create the illusion of
a massive, living, breathing world. Like
I said before, there may be a set path for you to follow for the next
mission, but Infinite allows you to
diverge from that path for at least a little while. You’re overtly awarded with money, power-ups,
and audio logs for your exploration, but that’s just incentivizing the player
to do something that comes naturally.
The reward doesn’t come from grabbing knickknacks (though that helps and
is greatly appreciated), but from having the option, and the freedom to have a
look around at your pace and leisure.
You receive information, and audiovisual treats, from almost any given
direction in any given room. There’s
structure, but it’s a malleable one that lets you help define your experience.
That element is missing
in The Last of Us -- and even if it
appears at a later date (which begs the question why they’d wait so long to
give us the good stuff from the outset), Infinite
did it almost immediately from the get-go.
Part of the problem stems from the presence of Tess; too often she
expresses the notion that you’re following her, and you have to move at your
pace. So even if there are areas
diverting from the main path, there’s an unmistakable pressure, a sense that
“No, wait, I have to get moving, I have to follow Tess.” She’s a barrier between the player and the
world, making certain intimate interactions impossible.
But then again, the
world -- for the moment, at least -- doesn’t really feel like one worth
exploring. Everything looks good, sure,
and there are lots of intricacies, yeah, thank GOD that the palette is (on
average) as far away from gray and brown as you can get. But compared to the sensory excitement of Infinite, The Last of Us is lacking.
There are only so many times you can show off a dilapidated building
before it becomes boring -- and that’s doubly the case when exploring the nooks
and crannies doesn’t give you anything worth looking at besides more trash and
rubble. Events and conversations will
trigger to give something to look at or listen to, but damned if they don’t
feel as mechanical and obvious as it gets.
Tess will herd you through one area to the next (or you’ll do the same
for her for…some reason), and even when you break the leash and start looking
around, there’s very little to show for it in terms of physical and emotional
rewards…to say nothing of the fact that sometimes, there’s not even another
path for you to explore. And I kid you
not, there’s a moment in this game where you’re led into an area littered with
chest-high walls straight out of Gears of
War, and Joel says “Here we go” in exasperation. Game of the Year!
There’s also some real
silliness going on in the world if you think about it. There’s an area full of spores that’s
apparently lethal (or turns you into a zombie, maybe; same difference) if you
breathe it in, so Joel and Tess put on gas masks and trot about inside rooms
completely riddled with airborne spores.
Now here’s my question: why don’t they avoid that area entirely? If the game can lead us from one area to the
next, then why would it lead us to this inherently-lethal area with no realized
alternatives when there are clearly others
that can be taken? I’m only asking this
because, if the spore clouds are so thick and so full of contagions, then I
would think that coming into contact with them period is a terrible idea. That’s especially the case when you remember
that, outside of their gas masks, Joel and Tess aren’t putting on any
additional protection.
That means that Joel’s
arms -- and his skin, no less -- is getting direct exposure to these
spores. Tess gets it even worse, because
her v-neck shirt might as well not have sleeves. Even if we assume that these spores can’t
necessarily be absorbed by the skin, these people are now covered head-to-toe
in what has to be an insane (if residual) amount of spores. So with that in mind, does that mean that
every time these people take in a breath, they’re also taking in millions upon
millions of spores into their body? By
the same token, when -- if ever -- are they going to stop and try to wash the
spores off their body? I’m just saying,
it doesn’t exactly seem like the proper protocol to use when infection and
zombification are still REAL threats in this post-apocalyptic world.
Unless…oh my God, I
just figured out the plot twist is.
Joel’s been a zombie all along!
What? I was right about Infinite’s ending, after all.
You know, I think I’m
on record saying that I don’t mind (and even prefer) a slow burn in games. It doesn’t take much to impress me or get me
invested, or make me want to get in deep with a long-yet-presumably-meaningful
adventure. If The Last of Us is intent on holding its story elements for later,
then that’s fine; it’s a game, after all, and the gameplay should be able to
compensate. And yet…I can’t help but
shake this feeling that the actual gameplay is underwhelming.
It’s not fundamentally
broken or anything like that. This being
a third-person shooter, it’s not exactly an easy formula to botch -- but as a
result, it’s not an easy formula to deviate from. You know exactly what you’re getting into
when you walk into an arena full of chest-high walls, and you’ll get exactly
that -- and on multiple occasions, no less.
It’s almost as if the game forgets that it’s supposed to be a game
instead of a movie or a virtual tour, and the developers regularly screamed,
“Oh shit! We have to give the player
something to do! Quick! Slap down some gunmen here, here, and
here!” To the game’s credit, you can’t expect
to hide behind a wall and regenerate all your health, adding a bit of tension
and momentum to each fight. Likewise,
moving around strategically on the battlefield isn’t just possible, but
recommended. This is no simple shooting
gallery.
On top of that, there
is a HUGE emphasis on stealth in this game, which is something I can appreciate
and approve of. Tess makes it very clear
that in some instances, a firefight is going to just leave you with stitches and
holes, so you’ll have to sneak around an area and stealthily dispatch
soldiers. You can do this more easily if
you make use of Joel’s special ability, listening mode, wherein the colors will
dump out and our leading man will listen to the environment carefully for the
presence of enemies. If you can sneak up
on them, Joel will leap out and strangle the life out of them -- or if you so
desire, you can plant a shiv in their neck.
I liked the tactical use of stealth in Far Cry 3, and I like it here; that overt planning and
strategizing, made possible by a slowed-down pace of combat, is something that
I can’t help but enjoy…to some extent.
The problem with
“stealth kills” or “executions” or whatever term they’re using is that if you
can get into a groove, you can render yourself utterly invincible throughout
the entire game. (This isn’t just a Last of Us issue; I’d wager it can pop
up in any stealth-allowing game, Far Cry
3 included.) In my limited
experience with Last of Us, there
have been times where I’ve managed to avoid or outright erase firefights with
stealth -- and bear in mind this is coming from someone who botched stealth
sections in Metal Gear Rising. Though to be fair, stealth is not exactly a high priority.
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You can mess up here, obviously, but there
have been instances where I’ve been able to go from one goon to the next with
only a split-second gap in between.
Instant kills take care of foes and fights, sure, but it cheapens the
effect. The intent behind a stealth game
is that there’s supposed to be tension, and that you bide your time until the
perfect moment to strike, weighing the risks and taking note of your
surroundings. There is -- or should be
-- an inherent sense of vulnerability here, but it’s one that’s notably
absent. I should not feel like an
invincible killing machine in a game that puts so much emphasis on survival, gameplay-wise and story-wise.
Nowhere is this more
obvious than with the zombie enemies.
There are two types in the game: infected, which are your now-standard
“fast zombies” that show extreme aggression on sight, and “clickers.” The infected go down in almost the same way
as regular soldiers, but with the added benefit of making more noise so you can
track them more easily; if you can get to their backside, they’re done. Clickers work a little bit differently (which
is to be expected, given their faces are all…spore-y); they’re blind, but their
hearing is incredibly powerful, so if you make too much noise they’ll rush at
you. If a clicker gets its hands on you,
it’s an instant kill. In my experience,
it’s not entirely uncommon for infected and clickers to be mixed together in
the same area, requiring some forethought when it comes to dispatching
enemies. Thankfully, you can grab things
like bricks and bottles you find laying around, and throw them to make sounds
that’ll lure enemies into the proper position.
Or you could just throw it at them.
Game of the Year!
Now, here’s the problem
I have with this approach. If you can
kill human enemies with a stealth kill, and you can kill the infected with a
stealth kill, and you can kill clickers with a stealth kill (albeit with a
shiv), just what is supposed to be the next step up on the threat ladder? The game tries to sell these monsters as guys
you don’t want to mess with, and something that’ll fill you with fear and
tension. But I find it hard to be afraid
of an enemy I can kill instantly, and is almost completely harmless unless I
brush against it or make too much noise.
There have been times where I was looking right at a clicker, but
because I wasn’t moving it walked right past; rather than being afraid, I just
ended up getting annoyed by its slow,
shambling movements…and its presence, before long.
And remember, these are enemies that can only
hurt you by getting in close range; even if you screw up badly, all you have to
do is run to a different part of the area to put them back in a neutral state,
or run to a new area to move on without a fight. But if you’re like me, you’ll take the slow
and methodical route, dispatching enemies with stealth (as you likely
should)…and if you’re like me, you’ll end up getting annoyed at how much it all
feels like busywork. And if you’re also like me, you’ll botch the stealth
and just punch one of the infected to death, scoring a cinematic kill in the
process by dint of mashing the Square button until you reach a wall. Um…can I get some actual enemies here,
please?
I can’t help but wonder
why Tess doesn’t help out and take down a few enemies. She’ll shoot at a guy or two, and maybe have
a punch-up with a baddie, but that’s after you get spotted. Other than that, she pretty much doesn’t
exist until it’s time for her next lines.
If my guess is correct, Ellie is going to be a more proactive partner in
the future (again, considering the box art and some promotional materials), but
that just makes the Tess problem all the more obvious. Why is this character in this game? I guess the assumption is that she’s there to
help us get accustomed to the new world, but I don’t really need her for that,
and she doesn’t tell us much anyway.
She’s not much of a
character, either; she’s not terrible, of course, but other than being tough,
snarky, and prone to shooting first, there’s not all that much to her. (In fact, it feels like her characterization
slips over the course of her stay; she suddenly goes from practical and
pragmatic to hoping for a miracle once she meets Ellie, who -- of course -- may
hold the key to curing the world of he infection.) She almost inexplicably takes on maternal
instincts once Ellie joins the party, but even then Tess, Ellie, and Joel don’t
get any additional development.
Especially Joel; cutscene after cutscene goes by with him barely getting
a few words in, if that. It’s worth
noting, especially, that there are glitches that occur ONLY when Tess is
around; if she’s trying to get somewhere and you’re in the way, Joel’s
animation speed will suddenly quadruple to force him aside, which leads to some
light speed ladder-climbing and squat-walking.
Game of the Year!
Inevitably, Tess ends
up biting it thanks to her getting attacked and infected when she and Ellie get
separated from Joel late in the prologue.
It’s at this point where Tess practically begs Joel to take Ellie
somewhere else -- to Tommy, if at all possible -- and decides to go out in a blaze
of glory defending the pair from a sudden influx of soldiers…soldiers who
didn’t have any reason to suspect that the three of them were even in the
building, given that they had zero affiliation with the people said soldiers
had already cleaned out earlier…and soldiers who don’t have any reason to
suspect Joel and Ellie are even there, even with Tess’ noble sacrifice…and I
can only wonder why the pair doesn’t just leave instead of fighting
strangling their way out. But
questioning aside -- and I hope you’ll forgive me for my callousness --
regardless of whether or not Tess had an affecting death (it wasn’t) or how
much of an impact on the story she had (she didn’t), her final farewell meant
that the real game could actually begin.
At least it could after
I had to stumble through a subway clouded in grime and spores and lovingly
rendered in shades of brown. Game of the
Year!
So after clearing that
area -- and everything beforehand, I think the game is finally starting to look
up. I think that pretty soon, I’m about
to get to the good part. The tension,
the development, the marvel of a world torn asunder…I know that it’s in this
game somewhere. But here’s the thing: I
shouldn’t have to feel the way that I do.
I shouldn’t have had to wait for “the good part.” I shouldn’t have had to put in multiple
sessions across multiple days and walk away with an impression no greater than
“meh”. I shouldn’t have to listen to
Joel telling Ellie never to mention Tess again, as if the hours I’d put in
already aren’t even worth a quarter of a damn.
I should be entranced and eager to play every time I sit down with the
game, and it’s thanks to a strong opening -- gameplay-wise or story-wise --
that I should be able to enjoy what’s happened so far as well as look forward
to what’s to come. BioShock got it right. Mass Effect got it right. Fallout
got it right, and that’s as post-apocalyptic as it gets. So why is this “Game of the Year” dragging
its ass so much? Is it me? Is it the game? Am I too slow? Is it too slow?
Screw it. Joel practically gave me a free pass to
ignore everything that’s happened so far, and I just might take him up on his
offer. I might. Even if the rest of
the game blows me away, I shouldn’t have had to wait this long for it to happen
(and I don’t think I need to remind anyone that the “it gets better” defense
was used for a
certain other game that will remain nameless). And I shouldn’t have to ignore this sequence
even if the rest of the game excels.
It’s not that hard to impress me -- but you have to at least try.
So. Where does that leave me with the game? Well, even with this “prologue” behind me, I
have to admit I’m still interested in the game.
It had a rough start, but I can at least try to forgive it if the rest
of the game is amazing. And who
knows? This prologue may have been an
extremely small percentage of the main game; I don’t know how long a simple
playthrough will last, but if my guess is correct it’ll run the length of a
very-short JRPG. In which case, there’s
plenty of time for the good stuff to show up.
Plenty. So I’m guessing -- and
outright assuming -- that I’m going to be in good hands.
So make no mistake --
just because I’m complaining about The Last of Us doesn’t mean that you
shouldn’t rent/buy/play The Last of Us. If anything, this post is a recommendation
for you to try it for yourself; I’ve done my best to honestly report what I’ve
experienced, but thanks to that pesky thing called human opinion there’s never
going to be a one-to-one report on what’s gone down. So don’t let this post scare you off if you
haven’t taken the plunge -- and of course, feel free to disagree with me. I welcome dissention.
That said, if there’s
one thing you should learn, it’s this: The
Last of Us is NOT a revelation. It
is NOT the perfect game. It is NOT
flawless. No such game exists. Not even the BioShock games. It’s a
sobering truth, I know, but it’s precisely that: the truth. So if ever yon needed proof that you
shouldn’t buy into hype, let this post be it.
Let me be the informant you need.
And that’ll do it for
now. Maybe the next time we cross paths,
I’ll have better news for you.