The Last of Us Part II Ruined Its Heroes and I'm OK With That

Coming to terms with Ellie's dark descent.

This story contains no story spoilers for The Last of Us Part II, but it does discuss some of the game’s themes and alludes to the consequences of its characters’ actions.

Things were never going to be OK when The Last of Us, released in 2013, ended the way it did. Joel gave Ellie a new life built on a fragile lie—one that sat precariously on a pile of dead bodies that didn’t deserve their fate.

As the victim of a life she didn’t choose, I believed Ellie deserved happier days. Were she given a choice, she would have made the sacrifice the world needed and taken the hero’s path. The intent alone, unfulfilled though it was, branded her with the nobility and selflessness that so many other survivors of the post-apocalypse didn’t need to be burdened with. Ellie was a hero whose cape was stolen from her.

When the events of The Last of Us Part II began five in-game years later, I rejoined Ellie and a few returning faces warily. Nothing could good could come after the first game ended like that. Several dozen hours later and the game ends with a broken Ellie, hollowed out by a thirst for revenge that she rescinded too late. Our prospective hero, ruined by the consequences of an old lie.

In the sequel, revenge is its own infectious disease. It festers in the heart, clouding the mind, urging its host to commit terrible acts. And in Ellie’s reality, where violence is as routine as making sure the horses are fed, it seems revenge is all anyone can do to move on. It’s something a person must do themselves to find some measure of peace, be it by blade, bullet, or their own bloodied fists. 

There were many times when I couldn’t stand what Ellie was turning into. She had become a person motivated entirely by hateful, selfish emotions—a dark aspect of the proverbial video game hero.

Similar to the first game’s narrative peaks and valleys, Ellie’s violent descent in Part II intertwined with intervals of peace that drew out character-building moments. These scenes aimed to soften, even rationalize the hate that drove her. Even the most tender scene—unseating the first game’s giraffe scene as the most iconic video game moment in recent years—was proof of the regret and longing that fueled Ellie’s heartless pursuit after those who wronged her. I treasured those brief spells of happiness that Ellie enjoyed with the people she loved, but they weren’t an excuse to forgive the acts of brutality that stained the rest of her story.

In the end, I found that the hero I wanted Ellie to be was just one person willing to slaughter a hundred people for the good of a few. Naughty Dog did something very risky by telling Ellie’s story side-by-side with another character’s tale, which just validates my thought: no person is so special that even their bloodiest actions can be excused.

Even in the absence of justice, revenge should never be justified. That should never stand, even in a post-pandemic world where retaliation seems to be the answer to invasions of peace. In our mid-pandemic reality, where the tenets of justice are being torn down, it’s even more important to hold our heroes accountable for the unforgivable actions they make—whether it’s through their ignorance, their willing endorsement of violence, or their refusal to uplift the voiceless. In these times, further blood is spilled for each despicable act we allow to slip by, especially from those we hold to a certain standard.

What happened to Ellie in the end was probably for the better. In the final minutes of the game, she realizes the cost of her actions and its irrevocable effects on her being. Most video game characters come home from a transformative journey to victorious music swelling in the background, but not Ellie. In her brokenness, she brings home a grim reminder of the dark things even our favorites are capable of. In this tragic way, she remains a hero.