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Writer's pictureSam John

Decoded: The Last of Us Part II by Naughty Dog

If the cycle of violence was ever perfectly captured by a work of art, I can make a pretty confident argument for this game to be the perfect encapsulation of that.


This story is unforgiving and demands greatness, patience, tolerance, and hate from it's players. This game stands out because of the impact it has.


It stands out because it challenged every single person bold enough to play through the entire thing.

How do you witness brutality, darkness, and heartbreak and then step into a posture of empathy and forgiveness?


I remember playing the first few hours and being jarred at the harsh realities that set in for me living in and through the life of Ellie.

This game isn't just a game. It divided the world. It sparked controversy. It led to violence and anger towards innocent people (which in no way can be justified).


It did what great art does.

It started a conversation.

Not just one conversation but a plethora of them.


What does hate mean?

Is violence ever worth it?

What if I knew the whole story?


There is a deep darkness and bitterness that this game allowed me to live out and process through in it's own unique and special way.


I am aware of how unpopular this opinion is but I found Part II to be even more compelling and emotionally charged than Part I.

You take away everything your audience is familiar with and leave them with fragments of what they loved while creating an intellectual masterclass of repetitions through words, sounds, and beats.


There is no room for a lack of thoughtfulness in the more recent Naughty Dog games.

Everything is intentional.

Things are grounded.


And they need to make sense.

I acknowledge, appreciate, and honor this studio's ability to step into an unfamiliar segment of the market and lay claim to that segment through incredibly detail-oriented craftsmanship and the ability to weave sound, light, performance, technical animation, and character design into a familiar yet jagged tapestry that barely covers one's toes and demands a new layer of introspection from it's audience.


Yours faithfully,

Sam Qavah John.


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