In Hollywood such happy endings are assured, but in real life attaining them is rarely so straightforward. On paper, The Last of Us is standard, big-budget blockbuster fare laced with Hollywood cliché. Its setting, subject matter, characters and relationships have all been seen in one form or another across a host of films and video games alike. The UK launch event of The Last of Us offered tacit acknowledgement of this, hosted in an old London cinema during a night that included screenings of I Am Legend and The Road.
Nonetheless, expectations for The Last of Us were high, tempered only by the mild concerns associated with launching a new IP near the end of one generation as a restless audience casts glances toward the next. Amongst its many achievements, then, is that The Last of Us both exceeds and subverts those expectations by delivering the mature and meaningful blockbuster experience that this seventh generation of consoles has promised since its inception.
The Last of Us is every inch the epic blockbuster. It's pacing and set pieces are well judged, its story of loss, hope and betrayal leaves us conflicted and the savage beauty of its world offers melancholic lows and dizzy highs. It is an experience whose individual parts can and will be replicated but that, as a whole, sits atop the pile of narrative driven experiences as a high profile, mainstream example of what the medium is capable of. Hollywood can keep its happy endings, I prefer mine bittersweet.