“This is a love story; and that’s not good.”
When it was announced that The Last of Us (TLOU) video game would be adapted into a TV series for HBO, I had a wide range of thoughts about it.
On the one hand, like most of the existing fanbase from the best-selling video game, I was excited for this story to get a wider audience. Even for those that have played video games for a long time, the narrative of TLOU is a high-water mark for the medium. For those outside of video games, it was likely unknown that this level of storytelling was even possible.
But this excitement was mixed with a similar sense of dread. Especially following my time with The Last of Us Part 2, I found this story to be so dark and oppressive that it was rarely enjoyable. And to be fair to the creators of the game, that was kind of the point.
I think this tone has been tempered in the TV show (cutting the story into hour-long chunks certainly helps), but the heaviness remains. As TLOU creator, Neil Druckman, shared on the first episode of the official The Last of Us Podcast, “This is a love story; and that’s not good.”
As Druckman shares, the true theme of TLOU isn’t survival or even a new take on a zombie apocalypse. It’s about love. And more specifically, it’s the difficult and even dark places that a deep, abiding love can bring humanity. Specifically, Druckman highlights how this is true for a parent’s unconditional love for their children.
Hearing this from Druckman, it brought to mind one of the most prominent passages about love in all of the Bible. 1 Corinthians 13 is shared at a majority of weddings because it is often held up as our hopes for what love can ideally be.
With this in mind, I wondered, how does this scripture relate to situations as extreme and dire as those in the story of TLOU? Verses 4 through 13 specifically give us a road map that we can compare with the episodes so far (SPOILERS for episodes 1-6 of TLOU ahead).
Love is patient and kind
The opening of episode 1 was particularly hard for me to watch. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic, but it was hard to watch because I knew what was coming. The opening sequence of TLOU in the video game sticks with most people, especially if you have kids of your own.
The patient and kind love of Joel and his daughter, Sarah, is so incredibly normal. It’s not saccharine or phony. It’s clumsy and authentic. It’s little moments of subtle disappointment that are quickly forgiven. It’s wanting to give gifts from the heart, not just an Amazon wishlist. It’s promising that each day will be better with more time spent, more memories made.
And then, because sometimes love leads to heartbreak, the unthinkable happens. Amidst the chaos of the world collapsing, Joel loses his daughter. That moment of Sarah dying in Joel’s arms might be one of the single most impactful moments a video game has ever had on me. It was unexpected, just as it was for Joel. And in that grief-filled understanding that he could do nothing, Joel breaks down in a way that I think captures the shattered feeling I fear so much for one of my own kids.
Love is patient and kind; but sometimes, even at its best, it’s taken away from you unexpectedly.
Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful.
After losing Sarah, our story fast-forwards. We find Joel as a different man, worn down by the haunting loss of his daughter and by the numbness that the world requires from him to survive.
And even in all of this, he somehow finds love again in his partner, Tess. The relationship with Tess is complex. A couple that likely found each other through complicated circumstances, it almost feels like an implied Bonnie and Clyde “criminals on the run,” connection. Do Joel and Tess find each other if the world doesn't collapse? If they didn’t need to turn to smuggling, do their paths cross?
Through all of this though, there are fleeting moments of tenderness wrapped in protecting each other between Joel and Tess. The stress and tension of this new life wear on them, but the irritation and resentment that could divide them are instead viewed as challenges they face together, to be together.
Love does not insist on its own way when you need each other to survive; it is irritated but not irritable, and frankly, it doesn’t have time to be resentful.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
If any passage exemplifies the evolving relationship between Joel and Ellie, it’s this one. As the story progresses, we see how Joel hesitates to care for Ellie on a personal level. Given the deep wounds of losing his daughter, I think it’s only natural for that hesitancy to be there for someone that likely reminds him of Sarah in so many ways.
But then we learn that Ellie is different. She is likely special. And initially, for that alone, Joel is willing to bear a lot of life-threatening moments with the hopes of bringing the world back to what he remembered it to be. He has to believe some things that seemed hopelessly lost as he considers that Ellie might be the path to a cure to this horrible nightmare. This belief leads him to hope, which leads him to endure all things.
This kind of head knowledge isn’t love, though. It’s just a mission. And while a mission can drive someone to be determined, love can drive someone to sacrifice of themselves. Over several episodes, through late-night dad jokes, learning to trust Ellie with a means to protect herself, and even wading into conversations that Joel considered off-limits, we find that Joel is slowly allowing his heart to love Ellie in a new way.
A kind of love that he likely thought he shut out of his life after losing Sarah. The unconditional love that a parent has for their child (or something that feels so similarly) can lead that parent to step in front of danger, to take risks of their own injury to provide safety to the child, and to have a constant state of vigilance to be one step ahead of harm.
Love bears all challenges that come, believes that even the impossible is possible, hopes for the very best in the darkest moments, and endures the most painful challenges imaginable.
So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
We could write endlessly about these themes and how they tie to the 1 Corinthians text. But I want to end with these models tied to the words of verse 13.
There are three enduring models of love so far in TLOU’s TV adaptation that demonstrate deep, abiding love. Some obvious, some less so.
Episode 3, possibly the most popular of the series so far, shows the relationship between Bill and Frank. This story, only barely hinted at in the video game, finds a way to tell the complex story of Frank opening Bill’s heart to something more than just survival. Through faith, hope, and love, ultimately, love was the part that wins out and is worth living (and dying) for in the end. Bill could have likely lived alone for much longer, but the richness of life with a companion was so great that the idea of going back to being alone without Frank was just too much to bear.
Similarly, in episode 5, we have the shocking story of brothers Henry and Sam. Caring for each other for years, Sam only ever having experienced this fallen world; there is a sincere level of communication and trust despite Sam being quite young. Henry likely knows that, at this point, Sam has to know just about everything in order to survive. And yet, even with his best efforts, Henry loses Sam to the infection, ultimately having to end his parasitic form before he can kill Ellie. This loss, the very purpose of Henry’s life, is too much to bear. The loss of enduring love was too great for Henry.
And finally, in what could totally be a missed story of love from episode 6, we meet an older couple in a cabin that Ellie and Joel stumble upon. Despite being held at gunpoint, the older couple banter back and forth, almost resigned to the fact that they have seen a lot in their lives and their relationship, so how could this be anything new? The older woman even admits to making Joel and Ellie food despite being their hostage. It’s an odd, funny, and endearing moment of hospitality and love that almost mocks the show’s otherwise brutal tone. The reminder that even decades into this struggle, love finds a way to endure. Care for strangers can be found. A sense of humor can defuse an otherwise terrifying moment. But that secret is likely wrapped up in a deep sense of love that this couple had for each other.
Maybe that is the lesson TLOU is slowly teaching me too. From my initial playthroughs of the video game, I felt the weight and heaviness of the broken world, but the essence of 1 Corinthians 13 definition of love isn’t found in the world, it’s found in the people. It’s found when people sacrifice of themselves for the benefit of others, offering a moment of shade from the sun, a glass of water for the thirsty, a hug for the broken-hearted.
The Last of Us is a love story, and for the world it’s set in, that’s not good. But for the people of this story, love is all they have left to live for. And as many of us in the real world know, love is the greatest gift that God blesses us with in all of its miraculous forms and definitions.
Great reflection, Nick -- even though I’m not watching (no HBO 😢) I’ve been really interested keeping up on the conversation around the game and the show. This view on the story as a (broken, imperfect) love story is really fascinating to me, and I appreciate the parallels you draw between its story/message and the scripture passages you reference.
Good stuff, hope to hear more both on this show and from you in this newsletter! ✌️