The Last of Us Eps. 5 & 6 act as a relationship crucible.
What happens in one inflects the other.
The Short Take for Episode 5:
I’m a wreck yet again. This episode delivered on the zombie apocalypse action while also bringing back the type of intimate, relationship-driven storytelling we saw in Episode 3.
The Short Take for Episode 6:
Not devastating in the way Episode 5 is, but big feels and emotional breakthroughs make this a standout episode. The best monologue(s) to date. Pedro Pascal and Bella Ramsey cement their all-star status.
[SPOILER ALERT: Tunnels full of spoilers for days here. Rest for a spell of you haven’t seen this episode.]
Image Credit: New York Times
The Long Take for Episodes 5 and 6:
I’m reviewing Episodes 5 and 6 together to play a little catch up this week, but I’m now realizing that this is a wonderful opportunity to consider these two episodes together, as a pivotal arc for Joel and Ellie’s relationship. Between “Endure and Survive” and “Kin,” these unlikely travel companions shift from an uneasy, symbiotic alliance, to a bond of two people who care about one another. In fact, now that I see the two episode titles side by side like this, I feel more confident in this claim. Before they met Henry and Sam, Ellie and Joel were just there to help each other endure and survive whatever came their way; by the time “Kin,” ends, they’ve evolved into something more. Maybe not exactly kin, but something akin to kin.
If I consider how this episode starts, I’d say that creators of The Last of Us want us to think of the events in Kansas City as a catalyst for what develops when Ellie and Joel arrive in the protected compound of Jackson. The episode opens with a replay of the very end of the previous episode, in which Sam tragically turns and tries to attack, which forces his older brother Henry to shoot him and then shoot himself because he is unable to live with what he has done. At first, I assumed that we were seeing this as “previously on” sort of gesture. To quickly reorient us to where Ellie and Joel find themselves as we reenter their story. By the end of the episode, however, I see that the decision to prime us with this scene before starting the episode in earnest was to explain Joel’s behavior, attitudes, and mental state.
In his confession to Tommy, which Ellie overhears, he says that every time he sleeps he sees his daughter Sarah’s death again and again. “I’m failing in my sleep.” But right before that he, in recounting the events of the show thus far, he tells Tommy about three instances in which he could not have saved Ellie: when she has to shoot a Kansas City raider about to overtake Joel, when the infection-sniffing dog starts to growl at Ellie, and when an infected Sam attacked Ellie after they escaped Kansas City. He feels paralyzed, powerless in these moments; when Henry has to shoot Sam, his own brother, for example, Joel says that Henry did so while Joel “just watched.” He tells Tommy that he freezes because he’s afraid, and that the two times we’ve seen him hunch over, it’s because he’s having a panic attack. Not a heart attack. Not a stroke. Not something from old age or physical frailty. But fear of losing Sarah all over again.
So, to go back to the flashback, we need to start the episode by replaying Henry killing Sam because it’s the only way to understand how Joel has gotten to this bad state of doubt. In the three months between Kansas City and Jackson, Joel has fallen back into his trauma over Sarah. He opened his heart a little and let himself befriend Henry and Sam, only to see how Henry — who dedicated his life to protecting the younger brother in his care — completely failed in the end. There’s a cruel irony in Henry going through all that to save Sam’s life — he essentially started a war with Kathleen to get meds that Sam needed — only to lose him to a clicker bite after they’ve escaped the city. That failure and futility snaps Joel into this perpetual state of loss and fear that pushes him to want to give up on Ellie and pass her off to Tommy.
Image Credit: Winteriscoming . net
To be clear, the way the Kansas City plot line ended was ROUGH. I had this sense of dread the entire episode, as I knew the four of them escaping was too good to be true. Ellie can’t have a friend. There aren’t four main characters in this show; there are two. Plus, a good rule of thumb in film and television is to become suspicious anytime characters start making plans for the future. Something is inevitably going to happen to muck that up. But even when a plot point is inevitable or even a little predictable, I don’t mind if the execution of it has nuance and sophistication. The way in which Sam reveals his bite to Ellie the night before makes Sam’s death that much more heart-wrenching, and the conversation they have about fear is rich and deep. To think about a child that age knowing that they’re going to die is unspeakably sad. And Ellie’s confession that she’s really afraid of dying alone tells us so much about her frame of mind when she reacts so strongly to Joel wanting to leave her with Tommy.
It’s no coincidence that Kansas City showed Joel not one but two failed partnerships. Two very different responses to losing a sibling that, regardless of how right or, in the case of Kathleen, wrong they were, still end tragically. I liked Kathleen and Henry as two sides of this coin. I like how their conflict and backstory added a layer of subtext to Joel’s partnership with Ellie as well. So often our partners make us better or make us want to be better. This is true of Kathleen and Michael, Henry and Sam, and Joel and Ellie. And, sometimes, when we lose those partners, we become our worst selves or lack a sense of purpose. As a side note, I especially loved the way the creators staged and directed the final scene with Kathleen in Episode 5. There’s a long pause in which Kathleen could let go and survive. She could put her feud with Henry aside and go with them. But she can’t. The loss of her brother and the vengeance rotting her from the inside out won’t allow it.
Image Credit: Men’s Health
All this is to say that there’s a tremendous amount of baggage that Joel carries with him into Jackson. His panic attacks and his cold words to Ellie feel earned. The conversation between Joel and Tommy and the subsequent conversation between Joel and Ellie has some of the best writing and acting we’ve seen in this show thus far, outside of Episode 3. I’ve seen multiple articles either talking about how Pedro Pascal was reportedly crying between every take of the Joel and Tommy scene or how he came up with and added the lines that plunge his monologue into a whole new depth: “And I have dreams. Every night…I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up, I’ve lost something.” After witnessing the death of Sarah at the start of the series, it’s not hard to guess that Joel would still carry that grief and regret with him, but it’s another thing to hear him so eloquently articulate how it haunts him to his day.
The incidents in Kansas City broke open a dam, and now he can’t help but project his helplessness when Sarah died to how he feels when Ellie’s in danger. He goes on to say to Tommy that, “I’m failing in my sleep. It’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail her again and again.” So it’s not that he doesn’t want to go on with Ellie; it’s that he feels as though he’s not up for the task because he will just fail her again and again. He may rationalize this as for her own good, but it’s also really about him understandably not wanting to repeat that pain and trauma.
Image Credit: Mashable
But, of course, Ellie isn’t going to stand for that for a second. And that’s what makes their dynamic so satisfying to watch. She pushes back, calls him out as being afraid while at the same time offering her condolences about Sarah. She doesn’t beat around the bush and starts with, “Do you give a shit about me or not?” As if to say that if Joel really did care about her, then he would know that it wouldn’t matter if someone else can hear better, fight better, or navigate the area better. She trusts Joel and doesn’t want anyone else to take her. She says, “So don’t tell me I’d be safer with someone else because the truth is I would just be more scared.” This is a big admission, and Bella Ramsey delivers this impactful line with the perfect balance of power and vulnerability. That’s what makes her character so complex and, frankly, likable — she’s at once a brazen and stubborn survivor and a scared kid.
My favorite part about this pivotal scene is that it doesn’t go the way we expect. Instead of crumbling and hugging her in that moment, which a much less sophisticated version of the show could have easily done, Joel gets angry. He thinks she’s crossed a line and he puts up a wall around him, saying they’re going their separate ways at dawn. “You’re not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” It physically hurt me to hear him say that to her. This painful moment, however, made the final scene that much more rewarding. It was absolutely adorable how Joel never actually tells Ellie that he changed his mind. He’s just prepping a horse for them the next morning. And she doesn’t actually tell him that she forgives him and still wants to go with him. She just tosses a duffle bag in his face. They don’t need to say anything because we can infer. That’s the product of great writing in prior scenes and of great directing in this scene.
Image Credit: Kotaku
Yes, this series is just another zombie show. But, for me, it’s worth watching because of this core relationship between a grieving father and a QZ-born kid who’s simultaneously fascinated and terrified by the post-apocalyptic world around them. That’s what’s keeping me coming back week after week. This episode was memorable not because there’s a secret commune with schools and Christmas trees and movie nights. It was memorable because it pushed these two characters I care about forward.
Now you see why I wanted you to play the game :). But the ride isn’t over yet!