Previously: The worst kiss goodbye ever.
cw: suicide, gun violence, murder, mass grave
—
Long Long Time
Dani: We open in the woods, 10 miles west of Boston. Gentle guitar notes play while Joel plunges his mangled hand (the one he injured beating the crap out of the guy at the end of the first episode) into a beautiful stream. I could gush over the way they film nature in this show all day.
Catherine: I am loling at this beautiful mountainous nature scene being 10 miles west of BOSTON. Was there no burned out Dunkin Donuts parking lot they could do this in?
Marines: They really committed to the “nature taking over” bit.
Dani: Joel pulls a flat stone from the stream and adds it to a stack of similar stones beside him. I’m not sure if this is a meditative Zen thing, or a way to mark where they’ve been, or just a tiny homage to the cairns in Uncharted 4. You choose. Joel returns to Ellie, who’s sitting beside a tree, looking small and vulnerable, with Joel’s jacket over her legs. He pulls some unseen food substance from his pack, eats a bite, and then goes to return it to his pack but stops. His jaw clenches, then he tosses the food to Ellie without a word. Ellie asks if he wants his jacket back; he shakes his head no and keeps stuffing his pack in silence. As someone who likes to fill the silence, this would drive me nuts. Ellie tries to start a conversation, musing about nature, but Joel doesn’t bite. Finally, she tells him she was thinking about what happened (Tess blowing herself up to save them), and now Joel has something to say. He interrupts her and tells her he doesn’t want her apologies, to which Ellie claps back that she wasn’t apologizing – she was just thinking about what happened. She reminds him that no one forced him or Tess to be there: he needed a battery, and he made a choice. So stop blaming her for something that isn’t her fault. Go Ellie!
Joel contemplates this stoically then gives a little nod. He considers Ellie, and it feels like his respect for her is growing. Ellie asks how much farther to Bill & Frank’s place. He tells her it’s a 5-hour hike, and she gamely responds that they can do that.
More stunning nature shots as they begin their hike. Ellie lags behind a little, taking it all in, since she’s never been outside like this before. The silence doesn’t last long. She asks Joel how he got the scar on his head, and he doesn’t reply. Because Joel. She asks if it was from something lame, like falling down stairs. Girl, wait until you’re Joel’s age – surviving a fall down stairs is heroic af. Joel says he didn’t fall down no stairs, but Ellie keeps asking until he admits that someone shot at him and missed. I wonder if we’ll learn who shot at him in future episodes. I hope so. Anyway, Ellie thinks that is a super cool origin story for a scar. She asks if Joel shot back, and he says yes. She asks if Joel got whoever it was, but no, Joel missed, too. He says it happens more often than you’d think.
LOL. More of this, please.
Ellie asks if there are Infected out here, and Joel tells her not often. She asks what he’s scanning for then, on account of him walking with gun at the ready, and Joel tells her “people.” I can relate, as people are the worst.
Mari: I’m a sucker for anything monstrous or post-apocalyptic with a message of “humans are the real danger.” That’s too real while living post-pandemic, which is actually in fact STILL MID-PANDEMIC.
Dani: Ellie glances at Joel’s guns and begins to make a case for her holding one of them, but he cuts her off before she can even finish. They stop at a ravaged Cumberland Farms, where Joel has stashed some supplies. He tells Ellie to hang back, but of course she follows him right inside, after asking why he has stuff stashed here and being told she asks a lot of goddamned questions.
Catherine: I love the banter between them. I mean, the story is basically built off of it, and Pedro and Bella are absolutely nailing it.
Dani: They already have great chemistry. I can’t wait to see this progress.
Inside the store, Joel starts answering Ellie’s question, but girlfriend has moved on. She runs to an old Mortal Kombat arcade game and starts pushing buttons and moving joysticks (as one is required to do when passing) and gleefully tells Joel that she had a friend who knew everything there was to know about the game. She’s practically bouncing as she recounts how Mileena has monster teeth and swallows you whole and then barfs out your bones! It’s a great reminder that Ellie is just a kid who should be at home playing video games, not fighting off hordes of infected and carrying the burden of being The One Who Will Cure Us.
Joel moves junk around in the store, and Ellie rightly guesses that he’s forgotten where he stashed his stuff. He says no, he’s just “zeroing in on it,” because it’s been a couple of years. It’s another good reminder that Joel is not exactly young anymore. Not sure how old he’s supposed to be … he had a young teenaged daughter in the opener, so I’m guessing he was at least early thirties at that point. He’s definitely in AARP territory (50+) now.
Catherine: If I remember correctly he said he was 36 on his birthday in the pilot. So 56.
Mari: That’s at least 66 in apocalypse years.
Dani: Ellie decides to search the store, but Joel tells her don’t bother, as everything’s already been picked over. And yeah, it looks like only garbage remains. But Ellie investigates anyway. She points to a back room and asks if there’s anything bad in there, and just like in the previous episode, Joel tells her, “Just you.” Ellie snarks that it’s getting funnier, but I’m already yelling at Joel to at least CHECK the room before sending her in there blindly. You just said you haven’t been here in years – you don’t know WHAT is back there.
Ellie pushes aside a heavy door and kicks through the junk in the back rooms, and all this talk of backrooms is giving me creepypasta/Kane Pixels found footage flashbacks. Except if Ellie noclipped to the backrooms it’d probably be an improvement from the world she’s in. Beneath some of the junk is a hidden hatch, which Ellie decides to open without telling Joel or anything. It’s pitch black inside, so she drops a rock or something into the abyss and pretty quickly hears a thud. She flips on her flashlight (why didn’t she do that first?) and sees a dirt floor, a turned-over garbage can, and more junk. Joel calls out from the other room, asking if everything’s okay, and Ellie’s like “yeah.” Then she drops down into our old friend The Basement of Don’t Go In There because she obviously has a death wish.
There’s some lockers and what used to be a staircase, and on some mostly empty shelves Ellie is super excited to find a 20-year old box of Tampax. Girlfriend, I get it. But also … it’s a TWENTY YEAR OLD box of tampons. Quick PSA: tampons only have a shelf-life of about five years and are susceptible to the growth of mold and bacteria (especially when stored in a damp basement) after that. But kudos to the show for reminding us how much worse the apocalypse will suck for half the population.
Catherine: WAIT, really? The mold situation in particular is potentially NOT GOOD here.
Dani: The more you know …
Mari: First wiping with an old magazine and now this? I hope this isn’t going to be a recurring theme…
Dani: Ellie’s feminine hygiene joy is cut short by the chilling screech of something that sounds like the Clickers from last episode. She swings her flashlight around, and there’s the source: an Infected dude lies crushed beneath an enormous pile of cinder blocks and concrete, with only his head and one shoulder free. The cordyceps have taken over half his head and face, but he isn’t a full Clicker yet: he still has one eye. Ellie slowly approaches, looking more fascinated than frightened. She’s so focused on the dude that I am 100% positive that something worse is lurking nearby, just waiting to jump out at her.
Mari: I freaking love the way this show often doesn’t take the easy and expected jump scares because it makes things even more tense.
Dani: Srsly.
The dude jerks and lets out another screech and how is Joel not hearing this?! I guess because he’s upstairs, banging shit around while he searches for his stash. He finally finds it, in yet another hidden panel on the floor, which requires his knife (and more noise) to hack away at the years of grime sealing it shut.
Back downstairs, Ellie crouches down in front of the not-Clicker and opens her switchblade. The way that the eye of the not-Clicker follows the blade as it gets closer is really disturbing, both because eye + knife = trauma, but also because the eye is so human that it’s hard not to look into it and recognize the person it once was.
I’m reminded of the last episode, when Ellie asked Joel if it’s hard to kill an Infected, knowing they were once a person. All of which makes it even more disturbing when Ellie slices open the not-Clicker’s forehead, revealing a bit of blood but mostly the fibrous cordyceps stuff that came out of the mouths of people in the last episode. (C: I had to cover my eyes. I can’t lie. Ewewewew.) Ellie stares at the not-Clicker, and a look of pure hatred crosses her face. She stabs her switchblade into its head, and the gasping noises it was making stop.
Upstairs, Joel calls out to Ellie and goes to investigate when she doesn’t respond. But then she emerges with her trophy tampons and makes no mention of the thing in the basement. Joel re-stashes his remaining stash and adds the big automatic weapon type gun (idk I’m not a gun fan, but someone will likely recognize it as one of the weapons from the game). Ellie asks why he’s leaving it, and he tells her there’s not much ammo for it out there, making it mostly useless, which is definitely a gamer issue. I see what you did there. Ellie makes another plea for a gun, since he’s just gonna leave it there, and Joel emphatically tells her no.
They continue their journey, and around one bend they see the remains of a passenger jet crashed on a hillside. Yikes. Ellie thinks Joel was super lucky to live in a time when you got to ride in an airplane, and he tells her that being squished into a middle seat didn’t exactly feel lucky. But Ellie points out that he got to FLY IN THE SKY, which is arguably very cool. Joel points out that the people who died in that plane crash got to fly, too. So cheerful. Ellie says, “grim” and they move on.
Ellie asks if everything just came crashing down at once, all in one day, and Joel says pretty much. She asks how it all started: if you have to get bitten to be infected, then who bit the first person? She bets it was a monkey, but Joel quashes that theory, telling her, “It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school.” Ellie says, yeah: “FEDRA school. They didn’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic” and … oof, this hits differently post-Covid. (C: Yeah, that felt like a particularly pointed jab.) (D: It certainly doesn’t bode well for when something worse than Covid comes along.) Joel pauses for a bit and then there’s some well-done exposition into the origin of the infection.
Joel’s pause before adding the “pancake mix” is long and loaded, as no doubt it reminds him of Sarah. Also … props to Catherine for noting how many times flour-based products were mentioned/offered to Joel and Sarah in the first episode (pancake mix, biscuits, oatmeal cookies) but never consumed.
Catherine: *takes a bow* Although I really can’t take all the credit because I did see it on Tumblr first.
Dani: Joel tells Ellie the tainted food all hit the shelves around the same time, and then people bought it and ate it around the same time Thursday night or Friday morning. They get sick throughout the day and then start biting. He recites the date as if it replays daily in his head, probably because it does. Friday night, September 26, 2003. He tells Ellie by Monday everything was gone. Ellie is somber but thanks Joel for explaining it. He says “Sure,” then glances up the road and stops Ellie. There’s something ahead that he doesn’t want her to see.
Ellie says well now she HAS to see, but Joel is serious. She asks if it’s something that can hurt her, and Joel says no. Ellie tells him he’s too honest. He should’ve told her it was an axe murderer. Ellie walks on and eventually reaches a ravine that’s littered with corpses and suitcases. She looks to Joel for an explanation, and after a heavy sigh Joel tells her that about a week after the outbreak started, soldiers went through the countryside and evacuated small towns. They told folks they were going to a QZ, but in reality there wasn’t room for everyone in the QZs. Some people were lucky and ended up in a QZ, but others – like the corpses in the ravine – were straight-up murdered. Ellie asks if they weren’t sick, then why kill them? Why not just leave them alone? Joel says because dead people can’t be infected. It apparently didn’t take long for the government to devolve into Nazi-like thinking, indiscriminately exterminating people. Joel and Ellie stare at the scene of carnage in silence, while the camera zooms in on a piece of blue fabric with rainbows that’s wrapped around an infant-sized skeleton. Lying beside it is another skeleton with some floral green fabric attached.
Cut to September 30, 2003, and a woman in a green floral dress comforting a baby that’s wrapped in a blue blanket with rainbows on it. I’m trying to focus on how well this is done, and not think about the terror this mother experienced when she understood what was coming. THIS SHOW, man.
Catherine: I had this immediate panic that they were going to show this woman and baby being killed. I actually paused the show to prepare myself for a minute, I can’t lie.
Dani: Totally fair.
We see soldiers spray-painting a big red X on a door, indicating the house has been searched and cleared. There’s a feeling of organized chaos as soldiers load suitcases and people with worried expressions onto military vehicles. We’re shown some security cameras mounted on someone’s house, then we cut to a dark room where someone watches the feed from outside on several small monitors. There’s a noise overhead: someone is walking around in Camera Guy’s house. Camera Guy quietly grabs a gun and stands. From upstairs, we hear a soldier radioing his superiors, telling them they’re in the basement now, and no one is there. Camera Guy mutters, “Not today, you New World Order jackboot fucks” in Nick Offerman’s unmistakable voice, and surprise! Camera Guy is Nick Offerman, aka Bill. Outside, the trucks filled with soldiers and civilians depart, leaving us with a shot of the Mandatory Evacuation Notice for the “current zone and all outlying areas.”
Back inside, lights flicker on inside Bill’s bunker, and we see walls filled with guns and bookshelves full of back issues of Guns & Ammo, survival handbooks, gallons of sulfuric acid, and lots of equipment for reloading shells and making bullets. Basically, this place is a doomsday prepper’s wet dream. Bill leaves his bunker, revealing a hidden staircase that’s attached to a cabinet in the basement, and I’m not gonna lie it looks pretty cool and I want one. Only instead of guns, my bunker would be full of books and non-flour-based snacks. (C: Sammmme.)
Bill emerges in full combat gear: gas mask, ammo strap, the works. He goes outside and finds his town completely empty. The first thing he does is hitch his boat to his truck. He rips out the seats from the boat and drives it to the local gas station, where he breaks in and fills three giant barrels that he’s loaded into the boat with gas. Next he drives to a boarded-up Home Depot, breaks in again, and fills several carts with filters, tubing, fencing, and various tools. The lights go out while he’s inside, and he remarks, “That was fast.” Next he busts through the gate at the natural gas plant, and we see him cranking a valve to stock up on natural gas, too. His last stop is the liquor store. Good thinking, my guy.
Back at home, he’s able to light his gas stove with a match, and he has a humongous generator out back for power. Bill’s been waiting for this day HIS WHOLE LIFE. We get a montage of Bill doing survival stuff: cutting down a tree, splitting wood, building a massive, high-voltage fence around what appears to be his entire village. He also installs lots of booby-traps outside the fence: there are pipes poking out (not sure what those are for), and he digs several holes, covering them over with chicken wire and mud. Basically, he Kevin McCallisters the hell out of this place. Within the fence, he’s got a nice greenhouse and a garden full of fresh veggies. He’s raising chickens and there’s a shot of him butchering what I presume is a small pig. Idk, I tried not to look.
We cut to him cooking a gourmet meal, and the care he takes with the sauce and presentation (plus the lovely wine he’s poured into a crystal goblet) is our first indication that Bill is more than a walking Don’t Tread on Me flag-waving stereotype. As he sits alone, eating his fancy meal in silence, an alarm sounds from somewhere on the property. He picks up a remote and flips through camera views until he sees an Infected stumbling through the forest outside. Bill watches intently but is by no means panicked. “Keep coming,” he tells the Infected.
Outside, we see the Infected jerk and twitch its way closer, eventually triggering a trip-wire that’s attached to a contraption on the tree that shoots it in the head. Cut back to Bill, who takes another bite of meat and remarks, “It doesn’t get old.”
Cut to four years later, and it’s 2007. Bill pulls up to the gate outside the town, and it’s obvious that he’s been busy. He punches in a code, and the gate slides open for him. His truck and boat are loaded down with more supplies. Down in the basement, Bill is heavy machinery-ing something in front of a Don’t Tread on Me flag. LOL, nailed it. Another alarm sounds, and Bill sees that one of the pits he dug and buried has been disturbed: someone has fallen inside.
Bill stomps outside with his shotgun, clearly annoyed. He approaches the pit and chambers a round. Hearing the sound, a male voice calls out, “I’m not infected!” from the pit. Bill asks if he’s armed, and there’s a long pause. The guy finally says no. Bill asks why he took that long to answer, and the guy says he thought about lying for some reason but the reason never came. LOL. We get our first view of the guy, who is scruffy and covered in mud. He holds up his hands and tells Bill he’s just trying to get to Boston. He started out with a group of 10 from the Baltimore QZ, but he’s the only one left. He also tells Bill the Baltimore QZ is gone. Yikes. Bill asks if he’s hurt, but he’s just bruised from falling into the pit. Bill disappears, and Pit Guy looks worried, no doubt fearing the terrifying trap he’s literally fallen into. But Bill returns with a ladder and Pit Guy carefully crawls up. As soon as his head clears the pit, Bill tells him to stop. He pulls out the Infected-scanning thing we saw in the first episode, and Pit Guy asks him how he got it. Bill doesn’t answer. The scan proves he’s clean, and Bill lets him leave the pit. He points down the road and tells Pit Guy that Boston is that way, all the while keeping his gun trained on him. Pit Guy says he’s really hungry. He hasn’t eaten in two days. Then he laughs and acknowledges that it doesn’t sound very long when you say it out loud. But it feels long.
Bill gives zero fucks and tells Pit Guy he’s letting him go, so be grateful for that and go. Pit Guy says his name is Frank, and Bill delivers a very Ron Swanson-esque speech, saying, “Here’s the thing, Frank: if I feed you, then every bum you talk to about it is gonna show up here looking for a free lunch. And this is not an Arby’s.”
Mari: I’d like to think Bill is impressed by Frank’s audacity, correcting him while at gun point. I know I am.
Dani: Frank promises not to talk about it to any bums or hobos or vagabonds. He drops his hands and kind of smiles, telling Bill he already knows how bad he is at lying. They both look like they’re about to cry, tbh. Something about the plea finally gets to Bill, and he relents.
Inside, Frank’s taking a shower, and Bill leaves a change of clothes on the bed for him. You can tell he’s not used to talking to anyone, as he mumbles his replies and then has to repeat them. Frank thanks him for the clothes through the door and tells him the shower is amazing. Bill stares at the door and looks a bit emotional, then he turns and leaves in a hurry. As antisocial as I am, I can’t imagine what it would be like to go four years without seeing or speaking to another human. (C: I have to imagine it would drive anyone bonkers insane.)
Later, Frank is waiting at the table, which is beautifully set with chargers and crystal. It has to be soooo different from the way everyone else has been living. Frank stares at the piano in the other room and really just marvels at everything in the house. Dinner seems to be taking awhile, so Frank explores a bit, noting the heavy coating of dust on the furniture. Bill crashes through the door from the kitchen, carrying two plates and a bottle of wine. He looks surprised to see Frank, and they stare at each other for a bit. Frank returns to his seat and Bill approaches slowly, glancing at the sideboard where Frank drew a clean spot.
Mari: I love the dichotomy of Bill living in what is pure comparative luxury, but there are signs of disuse and neglect. A bit of a dusty existence, if you will.
Dani: Yes! It’s great character insight, seeing what Bill does and doesn’t prioritize.
Bill places a gorgeous plate of food on Frank’s charger, turning it carefully to present it just right. Frank stares up at him with a look of such wonder and delight that I instantly fall in love with Frank. Bill opens the wine, and Frank digs in. The first bite is pure ecstasy, and he practically melts. He looks at Bill and says, “What the fuck?” Bill shrugs it off, saying everything tastes good when you’re starving. Frank’s like, nuh-uh, not like this. Bill brings over the wine, and Frank just gets giddier. Bill pours, and Frank’s like, hmm, “A man who knows to pair rabbit with a Beaujolais.” Bill says he knows he doesn’t seem like the type, but Franks considers him for a moment and tells him no, he does. Bill seems flustered by this and awkwards back to his seat, accidentally bumping his gun holster on the chair as he sits. Frank takes a sip of wine and melts again as Bill watches him carefully.
After dinner, Bill tells Frank there’s more, but Frank is stuffed. He thanks Bill for the food, then thanks him again, deeply sincere. Bill acknowledges. There’s some silent staring, and then Frank says he guesses he has to leave now, and Bill nods. Then Frank says “but first” and hurries into the other room. He tells Bill he’s been staring at his antique piano all night. “Do you know how much these are worth?” Frank asks. Bill replies, “Currently, nothing,” and yeah I guess so. But still. Frank excitedly digs through the sheet music in the piano bench, and it’s obvious that Bill isn’t used to having anyone touching his stuff. Frank pulls out Tales of Hoffman and says, “Yuck! These aren’t yours.” Bill mumbles something about his mother and is like, “could you not paw through my stuff,” but Frank is on a roll. He finds The Best of Linda Ronstadt and holds up to Bill triumphantly, saying “This is you.” He flips through to his favorite song, and when Bill sees what it is, he sorta stands back and allows it. Frank starts to play and sing “Long, Long Time,” (hey look, it’s the episode title!) but he’s kind of aggressive and just … not very good (to be fair, I’m betting he hasn’t practiced much in the past few years). Bill tolerates it for awhile, but finally he can’t take it anymore and is like, “No, no, no, no, no thank you,” and snatches the book away.
Frank is apologetic and admits he’s no professional. Bill’s like, “yeah, I’m not either, but …” implying he could do better than that. Frank gestures to the seat and is like “go on, then.” Bill reluctantly sits and plays/sings a soft, melancholy version of the song. Frank watches him with a gentle smile. When he’s finished, Frank is visibly moved, and tears glisten in his eyes. He approaches Bill slowly and asks who the girl is, the one Bill was singing about. Bill admits there is no girl. Frank touches his shoulder and just says, “I know.” He leans in, and even though Bill is shaking and so tense that his shoulders are practically touching his ears, he eagerly accepts Frank’s overture and kisses him back, and the way it’s done is just really sweet and tender and beautiful.
Frank tells Bill to go take a shower, and Bill says okay and lumbers off. Frank sits back on the piano bench, still overcome with emotion. Later, we see Frank waiting for Bill in his bed, looking contemplative. Bill comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Frank smiles at him warmly, and Bill looks so unsure and vulnerable it breaks my heart. Frank removes the towel, and Bill slides into bed. Frank asks Bill if he’s ever done this before, and Bill shakes his head, then amends that and says yes, once, with a girl a long time ago. Frank says they’ll start with the simple things. But first he wants Bill to know that he’s not a whore, he doesn’t have sex for lunches, even great lunches. So if they do this, he’s going to stay for a few more days. He asks if that’s okay, and Bill readily says yes. They kiss and sexy times ensue.
Cut to the front door being slammed open, as Frank marches out yelling, “Oh, fuck you!” at Bill. Another three years has passed, it’s now 2010, and I guess those “few more days” went pretty well. Until now, apparently, as our guys are having a heated argument. Bill tells Frank to stop, and Frank whirls on him, asking, “Do I ask for things? Ever?” It’s pretty reminiscent of what Tess said to Joel at the end of the last episode, and I die a little inside. Frank throws up his hands and says nix that, the thing he’s asking for isn’t for him – it’s for both of them. Turns out Frank wants to make the place look nice, and Bill’s not having it because who cares what the houses look like? “I do!” shouts Frank. He says their home isn’t just the house, it’s everything around them, but Bill’s like, “give me a fucking break!”
All Frank is asking for is some paint and some gas for the lawnmower. He’ll do everything else himself. Bill starts to say it’s not a matter of something, but Frank cuts him off and says, “Bill, if you say “resource management, so help me I will run through one of your tripwires.” Bill takes a deep breath and says okay, but he wants to know why this is so important.
Frank tells him that paying attention to things is how we show love. It’s his street, too, and he asks Bill to just let him love it the way he wants to. Bill relents. Frank tells him he’s fixing up some of the shops in town, too. Not the stupid ones, lol, just the wine shop and the furniture store. And, oh, the clothing boutique, too. Bill snarkily asks if they’ll be hosting formal garden parties next, and Frank says no, but they WILL have friends. They’re gonna make friends, and they’re gonna invite them over. Bill says hell no, and I’m with Bill on this one. You guys have a good thing here – don’t ruin it. Frank presses on, and I get a sinking feeling. No good can come of this, Frank. Bill agrees and reminds Frank they don’t have friends because there aren’t any people out there to be friends with. Frank tells him he’s wrong, because he’s been talking to a very nice lady on the radio. Bill seethes for a moment, then explodes with a “YOU WHAT?!” that I heartily echo.
Cut to some time later, and Bill and Frank are sitting outside with Joel and Tess, enjoying a gorgeous dinner. Yay, Tess! I’m so glad we get to see you again, and can I just say you look AMAZING?! So fresh and young and happy.
Mari: See, I told you, apocalypses must age people like they’re bananas.
Dani: *adds face cream to my apocalypse bag*
Tess says the meal and everything is wonderful, but Bill just sits at the table, fork in one hand and gun in the other. Frank glances at the gun and tsks at Bill, saying, “Can you not, please?” as he pours more wine. LOL. They interact like an old married couple, and I am loving it. Joel keeps an eye on the gun and says he’s the same way. “Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” asks Frank, and Bill quickly points out that he’s not schizophrenic. Tess breaks the awkward silence that follows by thanking them and saying how nice it is to enjoy a meal in such a beautiful place because it’s been soooo long. She says she really needed this, even if they don’t end up working together. Frank assures her they WILL be working together, and the two toast to that. Meanwhile, Bill and Joel sit across from each other and have a stare-off. Bill looks displeased as hell about the whole “working together” thing, but Frank emphatically says, “We are” and gives Bill a determined look.
Frank tells Tess he wants to show her something and says, “Let’s go inside.” Bill immediately protests and says no, not inside, but Frank and Tess are already off, chatting away like old friends and completely ignoring poor Bill’s repeated protests. Once they’re gone, Bill cocks his pistol and keeps it lying on the table beneath his hand, pointed at Joel. Joel studies Bill for a moment then tells him he understands. If his, uh … he struggles to find the right descriptive for Tess or Frank, and just ends up saying, “If *mine* brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn’t be happy, either.” But he assures Bill that of all the people Frank could have randomly befriended, he’s actually lucky because they’re decent people just trying to get by. Bill isn’t sold. Joel points out that he and Tess can get them stuff from the QZ that Bill can’t get, stuff like books and medicines and machine parts. Joel says, “We can help each other and get that gun out of my face” in one breath without pause and it’s magnificent. Bill holsters his gun. Joel asks if Bill was a prepper or something, but Bill prefers the term “survivalist.” Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, my friend. Bill tells Joel that it doesn’t matter whether they’re decent people, because he and Frank are self-sufficient, and he doesn’t need them complicating their lives. Joel glances around and tells Bill he’s got maybe one year left in his fence, as the metal is corroding away. Joel can get him 10 spools of high-tensile aluminum, which would last him the rest of his live. Joel nods toward the house and amends that to “lives.” Joel may be emotionally unreachable, but he zeros right in on how important Frank is to Bill. Bill is silent.
Later. Joel and Tess are leaving: Tess and Frank walk together chatting, while Joel and Bill follow behind quietly. It’s cute how similar the couple dynamics are here. Tess asks Frank if he’s sure about something he gave her, and he’s like totes – it’s not a gift, they’ll come back and trade him something for it. He’s very excited about this bartering arrangement. He’s also decided they should use codes for the radio, and Tess says that’s a great idea. Like what? Frank says obviously 80s would mean trouble, and their conversation fades away as they decide what 70s and 60s means, and it’s a great call-back to the first episode. It hits a little more, knowing where the idea for the code came from.
We switch focus to Joel and Bill. Joel tells Bill that FEDRA will never come out to where they are, and his perimeter defenses will protect them from stray Infected. But sooner or later there will be raiders. They’ll come at night, quiet and armed, and they’ll beat Bill’s fence and all his tripwires. Bill thinks for a moment then says they’ll be fine. Joel’s like whatevs, man, your funeral, and walks away. (He doesn’t say any of that, of course, he just walks away – but I’m getting good at reading meaning into his silences.) Bill looks thoughtful after they leave.
Cut to three years later, and it’s 2013. The perimeter fence has been reinforced with three rows of junked cars stacked on top of each other, then topped with razor wire. Bill obviously took Joel’s warning about the fence to heart. We see Frank and Bill jogging around the town, Frank in the lead. Bill lags behind, sweating profusely and clearly struggling to keep up. I’m with you, Bill. Frank tells Bill to pick up the pace, but Bill says he can’t. Frank promises they’ll just do one more loop around, because he has something to show Bill. Bill’s eyes get big and he lets out a hopeful grunt, but Frank just chuckles and says, “not that.” Bill makes a sad grunt of disappointment and jogs along, huffing and puffing. Later, we see Frank and Bill in the yard of someone’s house. Frank is guiding Bill forward, his hands covering his eyes. They finally reach the surprise: Frank has planted a patch of strawberries for Bill. He says he traded Joel and Tess one of Bill’s guns for the seeds, and as happy as Bill is he still asks, “which gun?” Frank waves him away and adorably says, “a little one.” He’s so cute. I love Frank so much, which sucks because when a show makes you care this much for a character it 100% means they will die soon.
Frank and Bill kneel before the berries, and Frank plucks one for each of them. They do a cute little toast and bite into the fruit that neither has tasted in ten years. Bill makes a sound that’s half sob and half laughter, and it really makes you *feel* the absolute beauty in life’s simple pleasures. It’s also shot gorgeously, with golden sun streaming in through the trees.
Bill tells Frank he’s sorry, and Frank asks for what. “Getting older faster than you.” Frank says he likes him older. Older is good, because it means they’re still there. But Bill is having a rare emotional moment. He holds onto Frank’s arm and is obviously choked up. Frank looks at him with concern and asks what’s up. Bill shakes his head and tells him he was never afraid until Frank showed up. Oof. I guess it’s easy not to fear death when you have nothing to live for. Frank squeezes Bill’s hand and they kiss tenderly. Okay, if I wasn’t convinced before, now I am absolutely certain that one of these guys is gonna get merked.
Later. Rain splashes onto an already full rain-barrel as lightning flashes overhead. It’s night. The menacing music tells us something bad is about to happen, and oh crap here we go. The flashes of lightning reveal the raiders that Joel warned us about. One triggers a small, electronic light buried in the leaves, so hopefully someone inside has been alerted to the threat. As they near the fence, sparks fly from various contraptions on the ground, and we see a pressure gauge increasing. Suddenly flames shoot out from those mysterious pipes Bill was burying so long ago: he’s hooked them up to gas lines, and the sparking contraptions turn them into flamethrowers. Awesome. The sounds of BBQ raiders, flamethrowers, and other traps being sprung awakens Frank, who leaps out of an empty bed, searching for Bill. He runs to the window, totally ignoring my shouts to stay the fuck away from windows when people with guns are outside. Frank runs downstairs, calling for Bill the whole time. We hear shouts and gunshots outside, and I yell some more as Frank runs to the windows in the dining room to look out. He mostly stays crouched down, but still. Doesn’t he know how big the target on his back is?! Obviously not, because he yanks open a drawer in the secretary and pulls out a small pistol. Then he OPENS THE FRONT DOOR and goes outside. Welp, it was nice knowing ya, Frank.
Outside, Frank moves toward the street, where we soon see Bill standing IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD with no cover. He’s shooting at the raiders, but he might as well be holding up a giant sign that says “please shoot me.” Frank calls to Bill, who turns around and yells at Frank to go back inside. Bill then gets shot, and Frank hurries over to help him back inside. Bill doesn’t want to go; he wants to stay and shoot and bleed to death, but Frank is insistent and forces him back inside. Frank lays Bill on the table, and pulls up his bloody shirt. He’s been shot in the side, and there’s a nasty, gaping hole and he’s losing a lot of blood. Frank makes Bill apply pressure while he runs to get something. Bill yells for Frank, and he sounds frantic. He tells Frank to leave the gas on, and the fence will kill the rest of the raiders. Frank returns with alcohol and bandages, and Bill tells him he made him a list. Frank works on the wound and says “uh huh, tell me about the list,” gently encouraging him but clearly only focused on the task at hand. Bill says he’s made copies of all the keys, and he tells Frank to call Joel. Frank’s like “mm-hmm, keep talking” and Bill says that Frank can’t be alone. Frank tells him he isn’t alone because Bill’s there, but Bill says no, he’s not gonna make it, call Joel. Frank pours alcohol on the wound and continues to work on it as Bill again says to call Joel because Joel will take care of him. Then Bill fades away, unmoving. The camera pans back and we see Frank continues to work on the wound, not giving up. Fade to black.
The next scene opens on the front yard. We hear Frank call for Bill. Someone sits in a wheelchair on the front porch, and we soon see that it’s actually Frank. Bill walks out of the house, looking relatively spry. Frank says it’s getting cold out, and Bill wheels him back inside. As they enter, we see another ten years has passed, and it’s now 2023, so we’re back in present day times. Frank is not doing well; he doesn’t appear to have much muscle strength. Bill pushes him and says they’ll get him all warmed up. We’re shown art supplies and see an assortment of painting and sketches that capture the past ten years. Cut to Frank in his little studio, looking frustrated because he’s having a hard time holding the brush. He puts his head back and sighs, looking defeated. The studio door opens to the yard, and we see Bill approach, holding a watering can. He looks at Frank with a mixture of such love and concern that if your heart doesn’t instantly hurt then you are Team Heartless Cow forever and I both feel sorry for and slightly envy you. Bill gives Frank an adorable little wink then waters the chrysanthemums outside the studio. It’s a beautiful moment that makes us remember the fight we saw early in their relationship, when Frank tells Bill that paying attention to things is how we show love. Bill has learned the lesson well. He waters the flowers and looks incredibly sad. Inside, we see Frank give up on the painting as he, too, looks woefully sad and deep in thought. I’m guessing this will be his final painting.
Later, at the dinner table, Bill cuts Frank’s meat for him as Frank eats his soup. Each spoonful is a workout, and the effort it takes is obviously exhausting. Bill asks Frank if he’s taken his pills, and he hasn’t. Frank takes a little baggie from his pocket (courtesy of Joel, I’m assuming) but struggles to open the bag. Bill takes over and fishes out the appropriate doses for him. Frank swallows them with Pedialyte-ish liquid from what looks like a hospital sippy cup. I don’t know if you’ve ever been a caregiver for someone with a severe illness, but the way it infantilizes them and robs all dignity is just gut-wrenching and very well captured here. It fucking sucks.
Catherine: I have and they did nail this, you’re absolutely right. I was getting terrible flashbacks, tbh.
Mari: I’ll add here that the episode kept kind of psyching us out about their deaths and who would die first. Bill had that line about aging faster and then he had the gut wound. But even in the apocalypse, other illnesses happen.
Dani: Yep, another example of them not necessarily doing the expected thing. I love it.
Later still, and it’s bedtime. Bill helps Frank from the bathroom (yet another indignity) and lifts him into bed. Then he climbs in next to him, kisses him goodnight, and shuts off the light. As soon as the light goes off, Frank’s eyes open. He appears to be deep in thought again.
Cut to the next morning. Frank is sitting in his wheelchair beside the bed, watching Bill sleep (but in a sweet way, not a creepy Edward Cullen way). Bill awakens and is like WTF, how’d you get there? Frank tells him it took most of the night and he’s exhausted. Bill chastises him and tells him to get back in bed, otherwise he’ll fall asleep in the chair and his feet will turn blue because no circulation. Frank says no, and Bill tells him they’re not gonna fight about it, he just needs to get back in bed. Frank promises him he’ll stay up, and when Bill asks why, he tells him because this is his last day. They stare at each other and fucking hell this show is going to just straight up kill me.
Cut to the living room, where Bill sits on the couch crying, and Frank sits in his wheelchair with his eyes closed, looking calm. Bill’s voice cracks as he posits that maybe they can find a doctor, someone who can help. Remind me what stages of grief denial and bargaining are? Frank scoffs at the idea of a traveling MRI salesman, besides which it’s not like there was anything that could cure “this” before the world fell apart, either. It’s never stated, but I’m guessing Frank has ALS? If so, there’s not exactly the possibility of remission or better days in his future; his symptoms will just progressively worsen. Fuck.
Frank tells Bill his mind is made up, but Bill just looks away and cries. Franks calls his name a couple times, and when Bill lifts his devastatingly sad eyes, Frank softens and makes him move closer to his chair. Bill kinda struggles to move over, and we’re reminded that Bill is a bit older than Frank. How he’s managed the compound, the food, and full-time caregiver status is a testament of will. Bill holds Frank’s hand, and they share a quiet moment. Then Frank tells Bill he’s not going to pretend every day was a wonderful gift from God, as it wasn’t. He’s had a lot of bad days, and he’s even had bad days with Bill. But he’s had more good days with Bill than with anyone else. He asks Bill to just give him one more good day. Starting now – make him some toast.
Bill chuckles, as Frank intended. Then he gets serious again and tells Bill exactly how he wants to spend his last good day.
Bill shakes his head, thinks for a moment, then tearfully shakes his head again. He tells Frank he can’t do it. But Frank is adamant. He knows what’s coming, and he wants to control the narrative of his final moments and Bill’s final memories of him.
Sorry for the gif dump, but like … I had to ugly-cry my way through this multiple times while writing this recap and scouring tumblr for images, so it’s only fair you should see it, too. Also, somebody get Nick Offerman an Emmy RIGHT NOW. Srsly, if HBO doesn’t submit this episode for Emmy consideration, then I’ll have no choice but to believe their brains have been riddled by cordyceps.
We cut to the tattered stars-and-stripes bunting on one of the buildings in town, then get our fragile little hearts stomped on with a montage of clips from Frank’s last day: the trip down to the boutique, the flowers on Main Street, the beauty of nature, a close up of Franks’ paints, the pit where they met, the two of them sitting in front of the piano as they slip wedding rings on each other’s fingers, say their vows, and kiss in the fancy suits Frank picked out for them. Later, Frank sits at the dining table, looking fondly at their home. Bill emerges from the kitchen carrying two plates, just as he did the day they met. He sets down the plate, and it’s the same meal he prepared that fateful day 16 years ago. He’s even paired it with the same wine, and Frank chuckles appreciatively. The wine seems to taste just as good as it did back then. After dinner, Frank stares at the table looking resolute yet apprehensive. Bill returns, and Frank smiles. Bill brings a fresh bottle of wine and two large glasses. He pours a generous amount into each, then wordlessly pours the baggie of crushed pills into one of the glasses. Bill stirs the powder into the wine with a spoon as Frank looks on. Then he passes over the glass and waits. A part of me really wants Frank to change his mind, but I know I’m being selfish. I don’t want him to slowly suffer the ravages of his illness, either – I guess I just want to live in a world where ALS and disease and heartache don’t exist.
Frank stares at the glass of wine and asks if it will be enough. Bill nods and says oh yeah. Frank considers for a bit, and then slowly lifts the glass. He stares at Bill for a moment, then drains the glass in one go as Bill watches, jaw clenched and clearly heartbroken. Bill gives a little nod, then lifts his own wine glass. He, too, drinks the entire glass down in one fell swoop, and both Frank and the viewer know something is amiss. Bill is a wine connoisseur – he’s not one to chug a fine vintage. Frank’s like oh shit. He looks at the bottle of wine and the almost pleased expression on Bill’s face and asks if there were already pills in the bottle when he brought it out from the kitchen. Bill says yeah, enough to kill a horse. Jesus, Bill.
Frank doesn’t say anything, and Bill assures him this isn’t “the tragic suicide at the end of the play.” Bill says he’s old. He’s satisfied.
Frank sighs and says he does not support this. But of course that ship has sailed. Frank says he should be furious with Bill, but from another standpoint it’s incredibly romantic. Can’t say I agree with that, but I can see how Frank would be almost relieved in a way, no longer having to worry about leaving Bill alone. The two hold hands and sort of laugh through their tears. Then Frank says “take me to bed,” and they share a tender embrace before Bill pushes the wheelchair slowly down the hall, one last time, their hands linked the entire time.
Cut to a new day in town. Ellie and Joel approach the gate, and already Joel is looking around suspiciously, obviously expecting some sign of activity. He tells Ellie to stay back as he punches the code into the electric gate. It opens, and they enter. As they approach Bill’s house, Joel keeps his hand on his holstered pistol. He gazes at the pot of dying chrysanthemums on the porch, and his jaw clenches. He opens the front door, and we see the candles have burned down on the table, and everything is coated in a thick layer of dust. Joel calls out for Bill, then Frank, but we know there won’t be any answer. He tells Ellie to stay put and yell if she sees or hears anything. Ellie asks what they’ll do if they’re gone, and Joel doesn’t answer.
We get a close-up of the plates from Bill and Frank’s last supper, and we can see that the food has begun to mold. There’s also A LOT of dust on the table, so some time has definitely passed. Ellie pokes around for a bit and eventually finds an envelope that was obviously meant to be discovered by someone. There’s a car key on top of it. Elsewhere, Joel knocks on the door to Bill and Frank’s room, but there’s no answer. He tries to open the door, but it’s locked. He returns to the dining room and finds Ellie reading the letter. She said it was addressed to “Whomever, but probably Joel” and she figured she qualified as “whomever.” (M: I found this very annoying, especially knowing what was probably inside. They are doing really well at making her such a kid…)
She tells Joel it’s from Bill, and he just takes the key and asks, “so they’re dead?” She confirms this, and Joel turns away. Ellie asks if he wants to read the letter, and he tells her to do it. It’s dated August 29, 2023. It asks whoever finds it to please not come into the bedroom. They left the window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it won’t be a pretty sight. Bill guesses that Joel will have found the letter, as anyone else would have been electrocuted or caught is one of his traps, hehehehehehehe. Ellie actually reads each hehehe aloud, and it’s a nice moment of lightness amidst all the dark. Bill goes on to tell Joel to take anything he needs and gives him the bunker code.
Bill tells Joel he never liked him, and yet it was like they were friends almost. And he did respect him. So he’s going to tell him something because he’s probably the only person who could understand. The something is this: Bill used to hate the world, and he was happy when everyone died. But he was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. So that’s what he did: he saved him. And he protected him. Because that’s why men like Bill and Joel exist. They have a job to do, and God help any motherfuckers who stand in their way. (Foreshadowing?) Bill says he leaves Joel all of his weapons and equipment, and tells him to use them to keep–
Ellie stops reading, but we can probably fill in the blank. Joel snatches the letter from her and confirms our guess.
Joel swallows and quietly tells Ellie to stay put. He goes outside and rereads the letter, looking sad. Last episode, Tess told him to save who he could. Now Bill’s telling him to keep Tess safe, to find the person worth saving and protect them at all costs. It’s too late to save Tess, but there’s still Ellie. Joel crumples up Bill’s letter. Looking more resolute, he takes out the key Bill left for him. Inside the garage, he pops the hood of Bill’s old truck and looks inside. No battery. You can almost see the frustration pouring off him as he closes the hood and leans on it. Then he spots the fridge, and finds what looks like the top of a battery and a bunch of battery-making chemicals (is this a game thing??) (C: Nope.) inside. Joel returns to the house and tells Ellie to show him her arm. She does, and the old bite still looks the same. The fresh one has begun to heal.
Joel nods and says he just made a truck battery and it’s currently charging. He tells Ellie he has a brother in Wyoming who’s in some kind of trouble, and he’s heading out there to find him. His brother used to be a Firefly, so he’ll probably know where others are. Maybe he can help get Ellie to the lab that Marlene mentioned. Ellie says okay. Then she starts to say, “Listen, about Tess–” but Joel stops her. He says that if they’re gonna do this, there are rules she’ll have to follow. First rule is she doesn’t bring up Tess. Ever. They’ll just keep their histories to themselves. Next rule is she can’t tell anyone about her … condition. If anyone else sees the bite mark they’ll just shoot her, no questions asked. And finally, the last rule is she does what he says when he says it. Ellie agrees, but he makes her repeat it. “What you say goes,” she says. Joel says okay. He stares at her for a minute, then shakes his head like he can’t believe he’s doing this. Ellie asks what now, and Joel says they grab what they can. The cut-scene ends, and we’re back to game-play: time to search for supplies. Just kidding. Except not really, because we go to the bunker next, where Ellie sees all the guns and proclaims that Bill was a genius.
Joel taps on a keyboard, and the music that was playing stops. Ellie asks why it was on, and Joel explains that if Bill didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, the playlist would run over the radio. Ellie looks at said playlist and says, “80s.” Aaaaand now we know why that 80s song started playing at the end of the first episode. Holy shit, this writing is so, so good. Joel tells Ellie to grab some canned food, but she stops to admire the guns. She points to them and is like, “dude!” but Joel just says, “No.” Ellie argues that there’s a whole WALL of them, and Joel just stares at her. Girlfriend is OBSESSED. Ellie gives up with an eyeroll, and next we see her grabbing rolls of toilet paper and stuffing them in her bag. Atta girl.
Joel pulls out a box of women’s clothes from a closet, and Ellie chooses a shirt that savvy viewers will recognize from the game. Yay, shirt! (C: I LOVE that they gave her the exact same shirt.) Back in the garage, Joel checks the battery and says it’ll take another hour. Ellie discovers they have hot water and excitedly says she’s taking a shower. She tells Joel he has to shower after her because stinky man is stinky. Joel just watches her go with a somewhat bemused expression. After her shower, Ellie breaks a hand off the grandfather clock in the hallway. Oops. If this were a video game, it would have triggered the opening of a secret compartment with a shotgun or treasure inside. Alas, it’s a TV show, so it’s just a broken clock now. Ellie continues to poke around the room, eventually opening the drawer in the secretary and finding Frank’s small pistol. She quickly stashes it in her pack as Joel emerges from his shower.
I mean, I thought he looked pretty damned decent before, but I bet he smells a lot better now.
Okay, tumblr just showed me that Joel is wearing the same shirt that Frank wore during his fight with Bill, and now I’m crying again. Fuck.
They load up the truck, and Ellie is super excited about riding in it. She starts playing with the visor and mirrors, and Joel asks if it’s her first time in a car.
Joel’s expression slays me. Ellie says it’s like a spaceship, and Joel says no, it’s like a piece of shit Chevy S10, but hopefully it will get them there. Oh, Joel. Ellie’s still playing with the dash panel when Joel tells her to put on her seat belt. She gives him a blank look, so he reaches over and grabs it for her, demonstrating. Ellie smiles and says it’s soooo cool while Joel eye-rolls. Aww.
Mari: This reminds me of all those TikToks I saw of pandemic babies’ first times at Target.
Dani: Ellie discovers a cassette tape in the glove box, and Joel tells her to leave it. She takes it from the case, and Joel tells her to put it back. She pops it in the player, instead. I’m surprised she even knows what it is or how it works. How do you know cassette tapes but not seat belts? Also, how’s that whole “you do what I say when I say it” rule working out for you, Joel? A song starts to play, and Ellie reaches for the dials but Joel says no, wait, leave it. It’s a good song: it’s Linda Ronstadt. He asks Ellie if she knows who Linda Ronstadt is, and of course she doesn’t know who Linda Ronstadt is. Joel glances at the tape deck like a long-lost friend as they pull up to the gate. Ellie smirks and says meh, it’s better than nothing. Sacrilege, child!
The gate slowly slides open, and the song gets louder. We’re treated to the full version of Bill and Frank’s song as our girl and her surrogate dad finally hit the road for real. Cut to an extreme long shot of the town, with the truck driving away, making its way down the road. As the song swells, the camera pans back and we see that we’re actually watching the shot from Bill and Frank’s bedroom. You know, in case you hadn’t cried enough already.
Welp, there you have it: An episode that deviated wildly from the game and seems pretty risky, given how much of it we spend without our main characters. But I think the result was well worth it. Not only is it beautifully done, but really so much of the narrative story in the game is about love and what people do for love. I feel like this episode was a turning-point for Joel, Ellie-wise, and I’m eager to see where we go next.
Catherine: Speaking of deviating, I’m gonna say, as definitely the only Snark Lady and possibly the only person in the world who will say this–I didn’t like this episode. From about the dinner party scene all the way to the end, I just had this sinking feeling and when they showed that last shot I actually said, ‘Seriously??’ out loud. I just didn’t enjoy this at all and I actually took the last couple of days to think about specifically why so that I could properly articulate my feelings on it and (hopefully) face less wrath from everyone reading this.
My feelings are that it deviated too far from the game. Granted, we’ve had deviations here and there so far, and I’m certainly not expecting a perfect shot by shot remake or anything, but the show has always hit the major plot points of the game and felt like it was keeping the spirit of the game alive and this just didn’t feel like that to me.
Additionally, and it took me a bit to realize this, I spent the entire episode certain that Frank was a bad guy. Why, you may be wondering? Because in the game he’s a fucking bad guy. You never actually meet Frank’s character in the game. *Spoiler* for anyone who hasn’t played and still intends to, but in the game you hear about him from Bill as this jerk who stole a bunch of his stuff and left town and then eventually you find his dead body. Basically, Joel, Bill and Ellie spend this section trying to get into a high school that has been infested by Infected in order to get the car battery that Bill says is in there. They make it out alive, but with no battery. It turns out that Frank actually took the battery, but got bitten in the process and hung himself in a nearby house. Joel finds a note from Frank that says this:
Not exactly romantic is it? You can see why I kept expecting Frank to turn on Bill. Now, with that said, would I have enjoyed this more as a non-gameplayer who was unaware of how their relationship in the game? Almost certainly. I had no other problems with the writing, just that it didn’t fit within the world of the game, to me. To me, the story in the Last of Us doesn’t have happy endings. Personally, that appeals to me for this kind of story but that’s just how I feel, and everyone is gonna feel differently about things, which is fine.
I also really, really missed out on Ellie and Bill interacting, because their back-and-forth is hilarious in the game and I hated the fact that they killed Bill off (he survives in the game). But again, this is just how I personally feel and I know pretty much everyone else disagrees. And the acting and cinematography for this episode were great. And I do still love the show and I am still excited for next episode!
Mari: Yeah, I disagree lol. I know I’m not a video game player, but here is how I feel about adaptations in general: I care very little about how faithful they are. Fidelity in an adaptation is like one of the most boring ways to approach an adaptation to me. There have to be changes to go from one medium into the next, but I’m also just interested in the interpretation of it all. If you want the original thing, it exists in the original and it isn’t ruined by this being it’s own thing, you know? And I mean no disrespect to video game players and lovers, but nothing that I’ve seen pulled from the game makes me want to give this episode back. (In fact, the Ellie and Bill’s interactions I saw most often were just fat jokes? And references to his being gay I saw most often include the pages of a porn magazine being stuck together?) So far, this has been lifting scenes and lines wholesale from the game, so taking some liberty here makes sense to me especially because it gave us such a beautiful and well-executed episode, and one that fit in so well with what this show is doing thematically. This is a story about loss and grief set against a backdrop of a zombie apocalypse and this episode gave us the best picture of that yet.
What I’m struck by while watching is just all of these people and their will to survive and live in the face of terrible circumstances. We’ve seen all variations of that. Joel is on auto-pilot, self-medicating just to go on, hanging onto but not able to fully give himself to Tess. The Fireflies are fighting back, because it’s the right thing to do. We even have small examples like the communications man, having found something useful to do in the end times. Here, we get a story of survival of a different kind. Of how you can be prepared for everything, be set up to live the best quality of life you can expect in the end times, but how important human connection still is. Because as much as humans are still the monster you look around every corner for, humans are what make life worth living.
I said this earlier, but I’ll echo that I love that this show keeps doing things that are slightly different than I expect. I didn’t expect this episode. I also was expecting that we would start with a cold open in the past. So when we jumped to the past mid-episode, it was very cool and unexpected.
I’m having a great time with this!
Next time on The Last of Us: A road-trip through hell in S01 E04 – Please Hold My Hand.