The Last of Us 2

The Last of Us - Part 2

(No narrative spoilers here - just moaning about game mechanics and some vague stuff about structure)

So I finished playing The Last of Us Part 2. 

Eventually.

I thought I'd finished it several hours before I actually did. I got to a lovely point where the story had come to a natural end, after many, many hours of play.  And all the narrative threads were satisfyingly dealt with. And there was a lovely last scene, and a perfect final shot. And the screen went to black, and I thought, "Well, that was a really good way to end..."

And then it kept going! Like a drunk who hasn't realised that it's way past midnight, and everyone else has gone home. And they starts telling you more stories, that are just the same stories they have been telling all evening. And they might suddenly veer from being your best mate to unexpectedly trying to slap you in the face. 

I'm not alone, I don't think, in having found the running time of LOU2 somewhere on the problematic side. It's an odd thing to complain about, in some respects. The gameplay is really enjoyable, so it's hard not to want more of it. And the last few areas are a real delight to play. It just all felt a bit superfluous.

Anyway, I'm a massive hypocrite, because straight after finishing LOU2, I started playing Part One again. Yes, my throat was still sore from shouting "For the love of God would you just FINISH you stupid game?!" and here I was, downloading the first game, because I wanted to carry on.

It's a much better game, isn't it? Part One. Better. 

I'm not very far into my replay, but here are some quick observations on the two games, as they have occured to me. They are, exclusively, about things that should and could have been better. 

Reward me for being clever!

The stealth in both games is really great. Levels are designed to maximise opportunities for choice and improvisation. The enemy AI is generally pretty good, with enemies who give a real impression that they are hunting you, and responding to your movements. 

The second game scores a little more highly on this front, which makes sense. The villains are less predictable, and spend significantly less time walking up to to walls and staring at the brickwork, as if desperate for you to creep up behind them and murder them in the neck. 

However. Given all the cool systems in place to create realistic stealth mechanics, it really annoys me that the game will sometimes spring a surprise on you, no matter how smart and stealthy you've been. In Part 2, I lost count of how often I would get suddenly jumped on by guys who came out of absolutely nowhere. 

I was using stealth! I carefully employed the 'listening' mechanic, to check if anyone was there. There wasn't. I threw a bottle down into the street, so it would make a noise, and the enemies would reveal themselves by scampering excitedly after it. There was no response. I was being clever!

And then when I moved forward, bang! I'm hauled into a cutscene, where previously unseen characters leap out and ambush me. 

Don't give me stealth mechanics and then cheat on them, Naughty Dog. If I've beaten your guys, then play the scenario out accordingly.

Deus Ex would never do this to me. 

What if I don't want to go through that door?

If I behaved in real life like I do in computer games, I would be very unpopular. "Are you coming, Rob?" 

"No, first I have to rub myself up against every single part of this room, in case there's some kind of glowing prize that I've missed, like a level up pill or some cloth."

I love it. I want to find everything. Power ups. Ammunition. Books that inexplicably make me better at firing arrows into people's faces. Bits of junk that will help me totally redesign my weapons. Every little thing I find brings me extreme pleasure. 

And, conversely, the thought that I might have missed something fills me with great anxiety. The playing time for TLOU2 is meant to be about 30 hours, but I spent way over 40 on my playthrough. Because I have to go into every room at least twice, to check for presents.

How great is my anger, then, when I open a door and - whoosh - I'm suddenly in a little cutscene. Apparently I decided to walk through the door, and close it behind me forever. Because that's how doors work in this universe, apparently. 

The number of times I shouted "I wasn't done searching that room!" is far too many, The Last of Us, and you need to sort that out. 

Stop telling me when there's danger

Narrative issues aside, TLOU2 is a generally superior game, mechanically, to TLOU1. There's breaking glass, and there's creeping about, and there's crawling around in the grass right next to people who might see you any minute, which is brilliant and terrifying. Best of all, Ellie seems to have realised that you can stab things with a knife more than once, and don't need to build a whole new shiv every time.

But playing Part One again has shown me one way in which the original is far superior. 

Whenever a combat scenario approaches, in Part Two, the game lets you know. Your weapon and ammo HUD fades into view. The music shifts to a heavy, percussive beat. Sometimes your character says things like, "Oh no, some people are here and now I have to do some combat on them."

I get why this is a decent feedback system in most games. But part of the joy of the world of TLOU is that it's creepy. This is a world where silent, decaying monsters might lurk in every abandoned house. Exploring spaces should be fraught with apprehension. 

Part One gets this exactly right. The advent of enemies is rarely heralded by a change in music. You just suddenly become aware that there are two clickers, gently swaying in the middle of the next room. And you nearly rushed into them! Phew. 

That's the way to do it, Part Two. Stop signalling your surprises.

Where's His Gun Gone?

If someone has been shooting at me, with his gun, which is full of bullets, then I expect to be able to get some bullets from his gun when it's lying on the floor, inches from his recently murdered body. 

Ammunition is a rare commidity in the world of The Last of Us. So if I've damned my soul to hell by taking the life of another, I'm going to expect to be able to steal their ammunition. Got it?

Or are you expecting me to believe that the last shot fired at me just happened to be the last bit of ammo this guy had? And that this is the case for everyone I meet? That's one hell of a coincidence. 

And sometimes I get to them before they've even had chance to shoot. And still no ammo. What was happening there? Were they just pretending, and hoping - as they advanced towards me, screaming "I will kill you!" - that I wouldn't call their bluff? That's some confidence. You, sir, are wasted in the Cannibal Bandit trade. You should have gone into marketing.

Anyway. Part Two does this better, and there often is ammo. Which is good, because I need it, for all the endless murder the game seems to require. 

So there we are. I liked Part Two quite a lot, and I'll play it again. But playing through Part One has reminded me of how good the original is, and so I'm retrospectively annoyed with it. 

It's not easy being me. 

They don't make 'em like they used to - thank goodness

This month's free game on PS Plus is the remastered Resident Evil. I had a go the other day, thinking it would be a decent game to play during Halloween month.

I have fond memories of playing the original back in the mid 90s. In my mind, I played it on the N64, but Wikipedia tells me that this is impossible. So I must be confused.

I definitely remember playing it, though. There's a point where a zombie jumps out of a cupboard, and I hurled my controller at the screen, falling backwards off the bed as I did so. Thrilling and exciting, to be so immersed in the world that I had a physical reaction.

And, of course, it's a very significant game. A huge, successful franchise, which is still going. A series of film spin offs, which are closer to the source material than most game spin offs manage. So I though it would be interesting to revisit.

And, unfortunately it sucks.

A hero with two left feet

What is wrong with the control system? How on earth did anyone ever play the game like this? I spent all my time trying to move Jill Valentine around rooms, constantly bumping into tables and wandering backwards into walls. A lot of the time, I just made her spin round on the spot, pointlessly.

The first time I encountered a zombie - the famous over-the-shoulder shot that has come to symbolise the game - I tried to back away. But once I backed out of the fixed-camera frame, the screen changed so everything was in a different place. And the controls I used suddenly made me go in different directions from the ones they had a second ago. Which, in this case, was right into the zombie I was trying to get away from.

Bite, bite, bite.

20 years on and I still want to throw my controller at the screen. But not for the same reason. How was this ever how we played games? Jerking between different camera angles, our relative positions and controls constantly shifting.

In short, I did not enjoy this and will not be going back to it anytime soon.

On a happier note, here's a lovely article about The Last of Us, and how it makes us identify with its characters.

Here


One thing it doesn't say, but which is definitely a reason why we identify with Joel and Ellie, is this: when you try to make them move somewhere, they just do it, rather than dicking about and circling on the bloody spot.

The Girl With All The Gifts

Went to see The Girl With All The Gifts last night. Was in the unusual position of knowing almost nothing about it, except for a vague sense that it was kind of a zombie film but also a kind of British Drama thing.

My thoughts here will avoid major spoilers, but if you want to know nothing about it, you'd be better going to see it first. In fact, just go see it as soon as you can, because it's wonderful.

Wonder Girl

My main thoughts while watching were basically variations of "This is awesome. This is so well made. This is one of my favourite films already." It's basically the opposite to the thoughts and feelings I had while watching Suicide Squad.

Also ticking away was a thought that any gamer will have when watching this film, which is, "The Last of Us. This is like The Last of Us. Quite a lot."

Not that it shares the plot, so don't worry that I've just blown the narrative. GWATG is very much its own thing, and has a distinctive spirit and tone. But if you've played The Last of Us (which you certainly should have) you'll find some of the plot beats quite familiar. And the mise en scene is strongly reminiscent of the overgrown, deserted cityscapes that greet Joel and Ellie.

Girl Friend

The film follows a trend which I've seen developing over the last few years: the zombie as a sympathetic figure. From The Returned to In The Flesh to Warm Bodies, zombies (or things very much like zombies) have started to become more than faceless, shuffling monsters. They are sad, vulnerable, sometimes likeable. I wonder what that is about?

Are there any games following this trend? I'd be interested to see. And I'm curious as to what the trend means. Zombies have always had a significant symbolic purpose in culture, from the Western fear of foreigners in White Zombie to the directionless of 21st Century existence in Shaun of the Dead. So what does it mean when the zombies become likeable?

I'm aware that this is two blogs about zombies in a row, and neither have focused much on games. But we're talking about wider issues than just playing games here, I think. 

Anyway, go see this film. It is marvellous.