Search
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Post (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
Landing the Hindenburg in a Thunderstorm.
What a combination: Streep, Hanks, Spielberg, Kaminski behind the camera, Williams behind the notes. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Well written (1 more)
Great characters
If the world ended, could you keep your morals and values? Imagine that your a father, with a young child in a burned-out world, barely surviving out on the road, and there are cannibals and murderers out to get you. Over time, you would watch your child become thinner and thinner, and every now and then you're lucky enough to find some canned or jarred food here and there, but it's only a matter of time before you can't find anymore. Soon, you would both be too weak to move - - - would you murder someone if they had food? Yet, most people out on the road are just like you, with no food and searching for more - - - in that case, could you kill and eat a person to survive? Or would you let yourself and your child starve, keeping your morals and values intact?
This is a scenario people may have to face one day, especially with the shape the world is in today. Even now people are faced with sticking with their morals and values, from helping our fellow man to the decision of holding a door open for a stranger. The Road, Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, brings the very question of humanity to the forefront, as well as how hard it is to hold onto it.
The father, The Road's main character, takes us on a journey through the mountains in a burned-out America, but the fires that took over are never explained and they didn't need to be. Apparently having been on the move for a couple of years, he wants to take his young son South to survive the winter months that are very close by. Readers get glimpses of what happened the night the grid went down from the father's point-of-view, but so many years have passed that the memories are few, the facts aren't completely straight, and any type of life before the fires seems to have been just a dream. So the two begin the story heading South, dragging everything they have scavenged in their travels inside of a metal shopping cart, and the father isn't sure they'll make it out of the mountains before winter. He only has tattered pieces of a map that they have carried for a long time, having numbered each piece with a broken crayon they had found, making it hard to estimate how far they need to travel.
While traveling, they very rarely run into other people, at one point, when they run into a very bad man, the father realizes he hasn't spoken to another person (other than his son) in at least a year. This is mostly because the majority of people that are still alive are the type of people that would rather kill you and take whatever you have than speak to you. Even most of the houses they come upon are burned and abandoned, but the father sees these buildings as a chance to find food and supplies: "The roadside hedges were gone to rows of black and twisted brambles. No sign of life. He left the boy standing in the road holding the pistol while he climbed an old set of limestone steps and walked down the porch of the farmhouse shading his eyes and peering in the windows. He let himself in through the kitchen. Trash in the floor, old newsprint. China in a breakfront, cups hanging from their hooks. He went down the hallway and stood in the door to the parlor. There was an antique pumporgan in the corner. A television set. Cheap stuffed furniture together with an old handmade cherrywood chifforobe. He climbed the stairs and walked through the bedrooms. Everything covered with ash. A child's room with a stuffed dog on the windowsill looking out at the garden. He went through the closets. He stripped back the beds and came away with two good woolen blankets and went back down the stairs. In the pantry were three jars of homecanned tomatoes. He blew the dust from the lids and studied them. Someone before him had not trusted them and in the end neither did he and he walked out with the blankets over his shoulder and they set off along the road again. " The young son is usually left close by outside because he seems scared that either there will be bad people or dead people inside.
Throughout this incredible, heart wrenching novel, the father slowly becomes more ill with what seems to be a case of pneumonia, possibly caused by all of the ash that is in the air from the fires; this makes him cough uncontrollably. Yet, he doesn't focus on that he may not live too much longer, instead he tries everything to get his son as far South as possible without too much of a plan of what to do when they get there.
The horror of this book is brought to light by the realism of what could happen if the world were to end, when people lose their humanity and begin to kill and eat their fellow humans. It leaves us wondering if we could hold onto what we are today when the basic need for shelter and food become more important than another person's life. But the father and son are examples of the few individuals who are able to hold onto their humanity during the end of the world: they share supplies if they can, they don't kill humans or animals to feed themselves, and they live by one rule: if a person is still alive, they take nothing from them.
The struggle these two go through is very real and believable, and McCarthy's writing is so well done that this book is hard to put down. Even while reading, most won't notice that there is only one character in the entire story that is given a name; our two main characters are never addressed by anything other than Papa or son/boy. The father's worry about keeping his son alive and unharmed is heartbreaking, for instance, one scene where he believes that he and his son are going to be found by cannibals, he quickly goes over with his son on how to shoot himself with the pistol, so neither of them will be taken alive. As a parent, I choked up in quite a few scenes, including this one - - - and as with the film adaptation, I cried heartily at the end.
This emotional, dark novel is an amazing book to read. The Road is bound to leave readers questioning what they would do in the same circumstances as the father. I highly recommend this book to people who love dystopian novels, but beware, this is a story you won't be able to forget.
This is a scenario people may have to face one day, especially with the shape the world is in today. Even now people are faced with sticking with their morals and values, from helping our fellow man to the decision of holding a door open for a stranger. The Road, Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, brings the very question of humanity to the forefront, as well as how hard it is to hold onto it.
The father, The Road's main character, takes us on a journey through the mountains in a burned-out America, but the fires that took over are never explained and they didn't need to be. Apparently having been on the move for a couple of years, he wants to take his young son South to survive the winter months that are very close by. Readers get glimpses of what happened the night the grid went down from the father's point-of-view, but so many years have passed that the memories are few, the facts aren't completely straight, and any type of life before the fires seems to have been just a dream. So the two begin the story heading South, dragging everything they have scavenged in their travels inside of a metal shopping cart, and the father isn't sure they'll make it out of the mountains before winter. He only has tattered pieces of a map that they have carried for a long time, having numbered each piece with a broken crayon they had found, making it hard to estimate how far they need to travel.
While traveling, they very rarely run into other people, at one point, when they run into a very bad man, the father realizes he hasn't spoken to another person (other than his son) in at least a year. This is mostly because the majority of people that are still alive are the type of people that would rather kill you and take whatever you have than speak to you. Even most of the houses they come upon are burned and abandoned, but the father sees these buildings as a chance to find food and supplies: "The roadside hedges were gone to rows of black and twisted brambles. No sign of life. He left the boy standing in the road holding the pistol while he climbed an old set of limestone steps and walked down the porch of the farmhouse shading his eyes and peering in the windows. He let himself in through the kitchen. Trash in the floor, old newsprint. China in a breakfront, cups hanging from their hooks. He went down the hallway and stood in the door to the parlor. There was an antique pumporgan in the corner. A television set. Cheap stuffed furniture together with an old handmade cherrywood chifforobe. He climbed the stairs and walked through the bedrooms. Everything covered with ash. A child's room with a stuffed dog on the windowsill looking out at the garden. He went through the closets. He stripped back the beds and came away with two good woolen blankets and went back down the stairs. In the pantry were three jars of homecanned tomatoes. He blew the dust from the lids and studied them. Someone before him had not trusted them and in the end neither did he and he walked out with the blankets over his shoulder and they set off along the road again. " The young son is usually left close by outside because he seems scared that either there will be bad people or dead people inside.
Throughout this incredible, heart wrenching novel, the father slowly becomes more ill with what seems to be a case of pneumonia, possibly caused by all of the ash that is in the air from the fires; this makes him cough uncontrollably. Yet, he doesn't focus on that he may not live too much longer, instead he tries everything to get his son as far South as possible without too much of a plan of what to do when they get there.
The horror of this book is brought to light by the realism of what could happen if the world were to end, when people lose their humanity and begin to kill and eat their fellow humans. It leaves us wondering if we could hold onto what we are today when the basic need for shelter and food become more important than another person's life. But the father and son are examples of the few individuals who are able to hold onto their humanity during the end of the world: they share supplies if they can, they don't kill humans or animals to feed themselves, and they live by one rule: if a person is still alive, they take nothing from them.
The struggle these two go through is very real and believable, and McCarthy's writing is so well done that this book is hard to put down. Even while reading, most won't notice that there is only one character in the entire story that is given a name; our two main characters are never addressed by anything other than Papa or son/boy. The father's worry about keeping his son alive and unharmed is heartbreaking, for instance, one scene where he believes that he and his son are going to be found by cannibals, he quickly goes over with his son on how to shoot himself with the pistol, so neither of them will be taken alive. As a parent, I choked up in quite a few scenes, including this one - - - and as with the film adaptation, I cried heartily at the end.
This emotional, dark novel is an amazing book to read. The Road is bound to leave readers questioning what they would do in the same circumstances as the father. I highly recommend this book to people who love dystopian novels, but beware, this is a story you won't be able to forget.
Daniel Boyd (1066 KP) rated The Last of Us Part II in Video Games
Jun 30, 2020 (Updated Jul 1, 2020)
Gameplay (2 more)
Graphics
Sound
I'm Not Mad, I'm Just Disappointed
Contains spoilers, click to show
It's been a while since I've written anything, but I couldn't let this one go by without saying anything about it.
The Last Of Us Part 2 is the biggest disappointment of 2020.
I finished the game a few days ago and have been letting it process in my mind in the hopes that it will somehow make more sense to me. So far that hasn't been the case.
Let me provide you with some context, I wanted to like this game more than anyone. The first Last Of Us is one of my favourite games of all time and because of the spectacular writing and performances in that first game, I was really excited to see what would happen to these characters. This was definitely one of my most anticipated releases in recent years and I'm genuinely in awe at how much of a let down it was, especially after the 10/10 reviews I had been reading leading up to the game's release.
Spoilers will follow from this point on as it's pretty difficult to discuss my reasoning for being let down by the game without getting in depth, so please tread carefully if you have yet to play through the game.
First off, I don't normally like to bring up my personal politics when discussing fictional media, but I do feel that it's necessary to mention that I am pro LGBTQ+ and none of my issues with this game stem from any sort of political bias that I may have.
The game opens slowly, juxtaposing the intense opening of the first game. However these slow opening few hours really allow you to drink in the breathtaking visuals and fantastic sound design. These elements really help to sell the cinematic nature of the game, along with consistently stellar performances.
Then we are shown the main conflict that will propel the story for the sequel. Joel is unceremoniosly murdered by Abby, a new character that we know nothing about at this point.
Now I don't have a problem with main characters being killed off in a story, in fact as a Tarantino fan, I relish it when it's done properly. The problem with Joel's death is the way that it was executed. First off, Joel and Tommy would never in a million years have blindly trusted this random faction that they've just bumped into enough to give them their names so quickly. They've both survived 25 years in the apocalypse and yet the writers still expect you to believe that they would be this naïve and stupid. Then, there's the fact that this is how they choose to introduce this new group that you are later expected to sympathize with and this character that they will later force you to play as for half the game. Why would anyone who is a fan of this world and these characters want to play and learn about this random ruthless killer?
Now, what you might be asking is "aren't Joel and Ellie ruthless killers at this point?" And you would be right, they are. However the point is that we were already invested in these characters before we seen them ruthlessly murdering infected and humans alike and therefore are able to put it down to them having to do what they had to in order to survive. With Abby you are introduced to her killing a beloved character from the first game for the sake of pure shock value.
The first game came out during an oversaturation period of zombie stories across media and yet because of it's stellar writing, it managed to stand out from the crowd and actually become one of the most unique games of the last generation in terms of the story it told. The story in this game feels so generic by comparison. I remember watching interviews with Neil Druckman in the lead up to the game's release where he would talk about how the main hurdle of writing this game was justifying it's existence after the first one ended so well. Really? You had seven years and another generic revenge plot was the best thing that you could come up with?
Another highlight from the first game was the fleshed out side characters that all felt deep and like they really existed in the world. Characters like Tess, Bill and Marlene all naturally fitted into the plot and felt necessary to the overall story being told. The same cannot be said for the side characters in this game. I have already mentioned how it is made impossible to sympathize with Abby and her crew after seeing what they did to Joel. There are two other new characters introduced called Yara and Lev. They are siblings, which put me in mind of Henry and Sam from the first game, but where Henry and Sam felt layered and genuine, Yara and Lev feel shallow and shoehorned in to give Abby's plotline some narrative weight.
Then there is the strange pacing of the story. I feel like I must reiterate, they introduce a character that murders the beloved protagonist from the first game and later expect you to sympathize with her. Then there is the fact that you play as Ellie for the next 8 hours or so before they present you with a shocking cliffhanger, only to then force you to play as Abby for the next 10 hours. Not only are they making you play as the character that murdered Joel and Jessie in cold blood, but every extra hour that they unsuccessfully attempt to make you feel sorry for Abby is another hour before you can get back to see how the cliffhanger, (that was introduced 10 hours ago,) is resolved. And then, they bafflingly make you fight Ellie while playing as Abby. Why would the game expect me to want to hurt this character that I care about as this brand new random stranger?
You are then eventually given control back as Ellie and the game lulls you into a false sense of thinking that you are finally done playing as Abby. Then Ellie makes the totally nonsensical decision to abandon a nice, cushty, quiet farm life that she's carved out for herself, to go after Abby yet again.
After that, you guessed it! You are forced to play as Abby yet again. Thankfully it's only briefly as we then at long last get to properly play as Ellie again. Not sure if you remember her at this point, she's the one that's in all of the trailers and posters and on the cover of the damn game?
Then we get what is probably the most anticlimactic ending in the history of gaming. Ellie lets Abby go. After Abby killed Joel and Jessie and crippled Tommy and after Ellie murdered all of Abby's friends and after Ellie abandoned her girlfriend and step-son and had her fingers bitten off, she's just like, "nah fam, I'm good."
I'm sorry, what?
You are going to break your promise to Tommy and let the person that murdered your father figure get away? Why?
If getting your revenge wasn't worth it, you should have really realized that back on the farm when you were surrounded by people you love and a chance at a family life. If you chose to leave that behind you must be committed enough to see it through, otherwise it is all for nothing. There is subverting audience expectations and then there is having your characters make nonsensical decisions and I feel like TLOU2 was full of the latter.
On a positive note, the gameplay is extremely fun and satisfying. Every blow lands with more force and every bullet seems to strike even harder than in the first game. It does get a bit repetitive after a while and the actual function of taking out a group of enemies hasn't evolved a great deal since the first game, but I still really enjoyed it. The upgrading and crafting systems have also been fleshed out. This, along with the immaculate graphical presentation, tight, fluid animations, brilliant audio and expectedly phenomenal performances make for something with so much potential, with only the writing and direction letting it down. Unfortunately, writing and directing are both pretty essential in a story driven game.
Before I summarise, I'd like to highlight that I am not against stories that explore the moral grey area and don't have clear heroes and villains. For example, Metal Gear Solid is my favourite franchise in gaming and the whole point of that series is to show that there is no black and white, but we all do things for our own reasons. A good story should be able to make you see the things from the "villain's" point of view without being like, "look see what you did to them? That is why they are the way they are! Look see, she is a good person because she plays fetch with dogs!" In TLOU2 it all just feels so forced and unnatural. A good storyteller should show a character's motivations and then show their actions and leave it up to audience to decide if it's justified, instead of strictly saying, "this character is 100% justified in the heinous act that you just seen her commit, now you must be on her side!"
I think that's all that I've got to say and I guess at the very least, this game has got people talking. You cannot accuse it of playing it safe, but there are a ton of different ways that the plot could have went that probably would have been a lot more satisfying for fans of the series like myself. 6/10
The Last Of Us Part 2 is the biggest disappointment of 2020.
I finished the game a few days ago and have been letting it process in my mind in the hopes that it will somehow make more sense to me. So far that hasn't been the case.
Let me provide you with some context, I wanted to like this game more than anyone. The first Last Of Us is one of my favourite games of all time and because of the spectacular writing and performances in that first game, I was really excited to see what would happen to these characters. This was definitely one of my most anticipated releases in recent years and I'm genuinely in awe at how much of a let down it was, especially after the 10/10 reviews I had been reading leading up to the game's release.
Spoilers will follow from this point on as it's pretty difficult to discuss my reasoning for being let down by the game without getting in depth, so please tread carefully if you have yet to play through the game.
First off, I don't normally like to bring up my personal politics when discussing fictional media, but I do feel that it's necessary to mention that I am pro LGBTQ+ and none of my issues with this game stem from any sort of political bias that I may have.
The game opens slowly, juxtaposing the intense opening of the first game. However these slow opening few hours really allow you to drink in the breathtaking visuals and fantastic sound design. These elements really help to sell the cinematic nature of the game, along with consistently stellar performances.
Then we are shown the main conflict that will propel the story for the sequel. Joel is unceremoniosly murdered by Abby, a new character that we know nothing about at this point.
Now I don't have a problem with main characters being killed off in a story, in fact as a Tarantino fan, I relish it when it's done properly. The problem with Joel's death is the way that it was executed. First off, Joel and Tommy would never in a million years have blindly trusted this random faction that they've just bumped into enough to give them their names so quickly. They've both survived 25 years in the apocalypse and yet the writers still expect you to believe that they would be this naïve and stupid. Then, there's the fact that this is how they choose to introduce this new group that you are later expected to sympathize with and this character that they will later force you to play as for half the game. Why would anyone who is a fan of this world and these characters want to play and learn about this random ruthless killer?
Now, what you might be asking is "aren't Joel and Ellie ruthless killers at this point?" And you would be right, they are. However the point is that we were already invested in these characters before we seen them ruthlessly murdering infected and humans alike and therefore are able to put it down to them having to do what they had to in order to survive. With Abby you are introduced to her killing a beloved character from the first game for the sake of pure shock value.
The first game came out during an oversaturation period of zombie stories across media and yet because of it's stellar writing, it managed to stand out from the crowd and actually become one of the most unique games of the last generation in terms of the story it told. The story in this game feels so generic by comparison. I remember watching interviews with Neil Druckman in the lead up to the game's release where he would talk about how the main hurdle of writing this game was justifying it's existence after the first one ended so well. Really? You had seven years and another generic revenge plot was the best thing that you could come up with?
Another highlight from the first game was the fleshed out side characters that all felt deep and like they really existed in the world. Characters like Tess, Bill and Marlene all naturally fitted into the plot and felt necessary to the overall story being told. The same cannot be said for the side characters in this game. I have already mentioned how it is made impossible to sympathize with Abby and her crew after seeing what they did to Joel. There are two other new characters introduced called Yara and Lev. They are siblings, which put me in mind of Henry and Sam from the first game, but where Henry and Sam felt layered and genuine, Yara and Lev feel shallow and shoehorned in to give Abby's plotline some narrative weight.
Then there is the strange pacing of the story. I feel like I must reiterate, they introduce a character that murders the beloved protagonist from the first game and later expect you to sympathize with her. Then there is the fact that you play as Ellie for the next 8 hours or so before they present you with a shocking cliffhanger, only to then force you to play as Abby for the next 10 hours. Not only are they making you play as the character that murdered Joel and Jessie in cold blood, but every extra hour that they unsuccessfully attempt to make you feel sorry for Abby is another hour before you can get back to see how the cliffhanger, (that was introduced 10 hours ago,) is resolved. And then, they bafflingly make you fight Ellie while playing as Abby. Why would the game expect me to want to hurt this character that I care about as this brand new random stranger?
You are then eventually given control back as Ellie and the game lulls you into a false sense of thinking that you are finally done playing as Abby. Then Ellie makes the totally nonsensical decision to abandon a nice, cushty, quiet farm life that she's carved out for herself, to go after Abby yet again.
After that, you guessed it! You are forced to play as Abby yet again. Thankfully it's only briefly as we then at long last get to properly play as Ellie again. Not sure if you remember her at this point, she's the one that's in all of the trailers and posters and on the cover of the damn game?
Then we get what is probably the most anticlimactic ending in the history of gaming. Ellie lets Abby go. After Abby killed Joel and Jessie and crippled Tommy and after Ellie murdered all of Abby's friends and after Ellie abandoned her girlfriend and step-son and had her fingers bitten off, she's just like, "nah fam, I'm good."
I'm sorry, what?
You are going to break your promise to Tommy and let the person that murdered your father figure get away? Why?
If getting your revenge wasn't worth it, you should have really realized that back on the farm when you were surrounded by people you love and a chance at a family life. If you chose to leave that behind you must be committed enough to see it through, otherwise it is all for nothing. There is subverting audience expectations and then there is having your characters make nonsensical decisions and I feel like TLOU2 was full of the latter.
On a positive note, the gameplay is extremely fun and satisfying. Every blow lands with more force and every bullet seems to strike even harder than in the first game. It does get a bit repetitive after a while and the actual function of taking out a group of enemies hasn't evolved a great deal since the first game, but I still really enjoyed it. The upgrading and crafting systems have also been fleshed out. This, along with the immaculate graphical presentation, tight, fluid animations, brilliant audio and expectedly phenomenal performances make for something with so much potential, with only the writing and direction letting it down. Unfortunately, writing and directing are both pretty essential in a story driven game.
Before I summarise, I'd like to highlight that I am not against stories that explore the moral grey area and don't have clear heroes and villains. For example, Metal Gear Solid is my favourite franchise in gaming and the whole point of that series is to show that there is no black and white, but we all do things for our own reasons. A good story should be able to make you see the things from the "villain's" point of view without being like, "look see what you did to them? That is why they are the way they are! Look see, she is a good person because she plays fetch with dogs!" In TLOU2 it all just feels so forced and unnatural. A good storyteller should show a character's motivations and then show their actions and leave it up to audience to decide if it's justified, instead of strictly saying, "this character is 100% justified in the heinous act that you just seen her commit, now you must be on her side!"
I think that's all that I've got to say and I guess at the very least, this game has got people talking. You cannot accuse it of playing it safe, but there are a ton of different ways that the plot could have went that probably would have been a lot more satisfying for fans of the series like myself. 6/10