The Last of Us spoilers won't be found here in our spoiler-free review.
There's an unnatural quiet on the street. Everything is still. But there's something else. Something stirring just below the surface. It starts with sirens blaring in the distance. Calls to loved ones go unanswered. And then the screaming starts.
For fans of a certain brand of horror, this scene is a familiar one. Dystopian sci-fi, and zombie fiction in particular, revels in the calm before the storm, right before shit hits the fan and people start dying. But few stories like this take time to find nuance in the quiet. And even fewer are able to set a new benchmark within this popular, yet well-trodden genre.
Enter The Last of Us. Like 28 Days Later and The Walking Dead before it, HBO's zombie thriller will change the way these stories are told on screen in the same way that 2013's game of the same name did in the gaming world. It really is that good.
That noise you can hear is a collective sigh of relief shared by the thirty million or so players who bought both games, as well as thirsty Pedro Pascal fans. And don't forget the HBO executives who funded (what's said to be) the largest television production in Canadian history (via CTV).
With a budget estimated at $10 million to $15 million per episode, there was a lot riding on this adaptation finding some way to break the videogame curse. But The Last of Us doesn't just break it: it will make you forget such a thing ever existed. Kind of like how the Cordyceps fungus makes people forget they were even human at one point.
That fungus instantly helps set The Last of Us apart from other zombie stories because the monsters here aren't technically zombies at all. Instead, a widespread fungus has evolved to the point where it can survive in human hosts, taking control of their nervous system like real-life fungi can take over bugs. Yep, really. So there's no virus or magic necromancy to speak of here.
Episode one builds the horror up gradually in ways that constantly toy with viewer expectations. Think The Walking Dead's first season, but with more money and even more time to explore this new world on the brink of annihilation.
This early on, you already get a feel for how strong The Last of Us is, and just like a clicker running at full pelt, the show just keeps going, with each scene turning out better than the last. By the time episode three comes around, it's already a contender for best show of the year, this soon into 2023. That's how good it is.
A huge part of that success comes down to the production itself. The intricate detail in every set feels like it was ripped straight out of the game into real life, from Sarah's teen bedroom to the collapsed skyscrapers that still tower over what's left of humanity.
At a time when more and more genre shows are being criticised for their lacklustre CGI — you know exactly who we're talking about — The Last of Us uses that sweet, sweet HBO money to make the end of days feel more real than perhaps ever before on TV. It's cinematic, but not in a slick, glossy way like Resident Evil's version of the apocalypse.
Whether you're staring out an open window or enjoying the piano stylings of a cute little frog (you'll see), these quiet, melancholic moments go hand-in-hand with the horror that's intertwined throughout, often subtly, like fungal tendrils wrapping their way around your brain stem.
It's the kind of nuance you'd expect more from a show like The Leftovers, another decidedly unique take on the apocalypse courtesy of HBO.
Like in the games, sound design is key to all this. Every moment of quiet pulses with tension, so when you do hear that all-too-familiar clicking sound, it's infinitely more terrifying (and gross) than the groans and moans that often plague survivors in this genre – shout out also to original game composer Gustavo Santaolalla, who returns to compose the score here too.
Every encounter with the clickers feels like it could be the last for someone, and that's really impressive given how small the cast is. And because of this, every line of dialogue matters. There's no stretching things out with needless monologues to fill an episode order. Everything in The Last of Us feels precise and there for a reason, from Ellie's biting retorts to the glimpses of humour we see cut through Joel's world-weary facade.
If you've never played the games or didn't even know they existed, you'll still feel like you've known these characters just as long as those who have.
Pedro Pascal hasn't played the games either, it turns out, because he wanted to avoid a direct impersonation of Joel (via GQ). Still, the gruff essence of the character is clearly there, just filtered through Pedro's natural charm after two decades of hell and grief has worn Joel down to the brink.
Mindhunter's Anna Torv is typically brilliant too as Tess, Joel's partner in crime, and even guest appearances from the likes of Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlett are about to hit you in a big way.
It's a small, perfectly formed cast, one that's reminiscent of The Walking Dead's very first chapters, but if we had to pick out just one standout performance, the answer is obvious.
As Ellie, a defiantly angry, hurt teenager, Bella Ramsey imbues each stubborn retort with surprising pathos, reminding us with just a brief glance or movement that her character's actually wounded in more ways than one. What could have been a bratty performance ends up being extremely likeable, which is vital because Ellie forms one half of the beating heart this story rests on.
Pedro Pascal is no stranger to playing characters who are forced to look after someone smaller and more vulnerable than them, but this isn't just a rehash of The Mandalorian. At first, Joel and Ellie are at odds, and things don't just magically improve overnight either. Trust is earned gradually here in the spirit of the game, and just like in the game, both of them still make mistakes with the other, some almost too great to bear.
The character-work avoids cliche thanks in large part to the involvement of Neil Druckmann, who wrote and directed the original game. Alongside Chernobyl creator Craig Mazin, Druckmann has found a way to capture the essence of his beloved source material and remain faithful to it while still surprising gamers who might think they know the story already, beat for beat.
And crucially, newcomers will also enjoy the show just as much because there's zero need for any kind of prior knowledge or understanding of the franchise at large.
That's no easy task, not by any means, especially when you account for the switch in mediums. Because yes, we do lose an element of interactivity in this move from game to screen, but there's so much to gain from this new perspective too, and that's something video game adaptations rarely seem to understand.
No longer restricted by just Joel's outlook, HBO's The Last of Us takes bold swings with the narrative, expanding this world like never before.
"We did deviate, but not to surprise the audience," Druckmann explained to RadioTimes and other press. "That was never our goal, like, 'how do we surprise them?' We knew that would happen organically as we just kind of adapt this from one medium to another, and the surprises will emerge in that way."
While diehard purists might balk at some of these changes, that silence you can hear is us not caring because this show will transcend all that. Like Joel and Ellie themselves, The Last of Us is gloriously defiant and strong-willed, always taking the path that makes the most sense for it rather than the path others might want it to go on. And the story is all the better for it.
The Last of Us will premiere January 15 on HBO in US, and January 16 on Sky Atlantic and NOW in the UK.
Best Entertainment and Tech Deals
