Importance Score: 45 / 100 🔵
Dive into our recap of The Last of Us Season Two, Episode Two. This pivotal installment delivers significant moments for fans. For those familiar with The Last of Us Part II video game, prepare for a detailed analysis of how HBO’s adaptation tackles one of the most emotionally resonant and challenging narratives in the series. We explore the adaptation of key scenes and examine the narrative choices made in this episode of The Last of Us.
A Never-Ending Nightmare
The episode initiates with Abby (Kaitlyn Dever) traversing a dimly lit corridor, strikingly similar to the one Joel (Pedro Pascal) navigated to rescue Ellie (Bella Ramsey) in the first season, unknowingly setting in motion his grim destiny. Initially appearing isolated, Abby soon hears another voice – her own, yet belonging to an alternate self who foresees the impending horror. This spectral figure implores her to retreat, chillingly detailing the gruesome fate awaiting her should she proceed. Despite these dire warnings, Abby presses forward, only to be met with a horrifying scene that elicits a cry of anguish. She then awakens abruptly on the frigid ground outside Jackson, the preceding events revealed as a terrifying dream, a true nightmare.
Abby’s recurring nightmare of walking down the hallway is a motif prevalent throughout The Last of Us Part II, each iteration subtly altered to reflect her evolving psychological state. A notable divergence in the series is the introduction of a doppelganger Abby, attempting to dissuade her from her path. Contrasting with the game’s delayed exposition of Abby’s motivations, the show swiftly establishes her as a former Firefly driven by deeply personal motives for vengeance against Joel, stemming from his actions at the close of season one. This narrative decision remains debatable, as the deliberate withholding of these details was instrumental in building narrative suspense in The Last of Us Part II.
Following the premiere of season two’s inaugural episode, numerous online discussions echoed this sentiment. The Last of Us‘s upfront revelation of key plot points departs significantly from typical adaptations. It arguably undermines the fundamental narrative tension inherent in the source material, without substituting it with novel enriching elements. Abby’s character is intentionally polarizing. The game compels players to embody her perspective, engaging in morally ambiguous actions, before revealing the formative events that shaped her. Conversely, the series appears to bypass this gradual unveiling, opting instead to immediately present Abby as a figure deserving of sympathy, potentially precluding alternative interpretations.
Admittedly, online discourse surrounding this narrative and Abby’s character has been turbulent. Laura Bailey, the game actor portraying Abby, faced credible threats directed at her family, and increased security measures were implemented for Dever during filming. While mitigating potential backlash is understandable, this instance exemplifies how The Last of Us series appears influenced by external discussions, potentially at the expense of the narrative daring that distinguished the games.

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Upon awakening from her nightmare, Abby discovers Owen (Spencer Lord) has already surveyed Jackson, finding it heavily fortified and seemingly impenetrable. However, observing regular patrols entering and exiting, Abby proposes intercepting one to extract information regarding Joel’s whereabouts through coercion. Mel (Ariela Barer) immediately dissents, reiterating their objective to target only Joel. Abby attempts to backtrack, suggesting the threats would be mere ploys, but her intense desire for retribution is palpable. Owen diffuses the escalating tension by mentioning a developing plan, yet Abby, unable to remain passive, assumes watch duty, armed with an assault rifle, underscoring her group’s formidable weaponry and preparedness.
Owen’s plan, however, is not centered on Joel’s demise, but on persuading Abby to abandon her vendetta and return with the group. The division between Abby and her companions was evident in the preceding episode, where their focus remained on survival, while Abby fixated solely on vengeance. The pivotal question remains: can this divergence in priorities among her group effectively temper Abby’s vengeful fury?
Bridges Mended(?)
The scene shifts to Ellie’s dwelling in Joel’s backyard, with a deliberate focus on her acoustic guitar. Last seen in Joel’s possession, played on his porch as Ellie passed by, it has now returned to her home. This detail warrants attention. Jesse (Young Mazino) arrives to escort Ellie on patrol and playfully tease her about her kiss with Dina (Isabela Merced) the previous evening. As they prepare their horses, it’s evident Jackson is preparing for heightened vigilance. Infected exhibit increased signs of sophistication, utilizing deceased bodies for insulation against the cold and as lures. Coupled with the Stalker encounter from the last episode, Jackson is on high alert concerning infected threats, possibly overlooking other lurking dangers.
Ellie attempts to deflect Jesse’s brotherly teasing by suggesting a patrol alongside Joel. This immediately triggers alarm bells for Jesse, recalling their last fraught public interaction. Ellie firmly asserts that the community’s speculation about her strained relationship with Joel should cease, emphasizing that they are resolving their issues. This contrasts markedly with Part II, where Ellie only alludes to reconciliation in a brief exchange with Dina, mentioning a potential movie night featuring Curtis and Viper, Joel’s preferred action film. HBO’s The Last of Us, however, opts for explicit exposition, seemingly doubting the audience’s ability to grasp subtext. Through Ellie’s expressed desire to patrol with Joel, her declaration to Jesse about their improving relationship, and the guitar’s return to her room, a positive shift in their dynamic is unmistakable, although the specifics remain obscure. This approach is characteristic of The Last of Us series, revealing crucial plot developments prematurely, potentially diminishing the narrative depth inherent in the source material. Ultimately, the patrol plans are moot, as Joel has already departed with Dina.
Ellie and Jesse proceed to a local eatery, finding Tommy (Gabriel Luna) conducting a civil defense drill against potential infected incursions. As townspeople mobilize, Maria (Rutina Wesley) draws Ellie aside for a tense encounter. Seth (Robert John Burke) is prompted to apologize for his homophobic outburst at the dance—possibly under Maria’s directive. Ellie initially resists, but Maria insists she remain present as Seth delivers a perfunctory apology, offering sandwiches which Ellie pointedly refuses. Maria intervenes, accepting them on Ellie’s behalf.
The Last of Us’s depiction of enduring homophobia in a post-apocalyptic context is complex. Interpretations vary, fluctuating between insightful world-building and potentially simplistic portrayals—akin to a well-intentioned, albeit slightly clumsy, attempt to address complex social issues. (The Bill and Frank narrative, with its poignant exploration of aging amidst a post-AIDS crisis world, is a successful example of Mazin’s nuanced approach.) However, the scene involving Seth, Ellie, and Maria, directly adapted from Part II, resonates with authentic experiences, particularly for queer individuals. Maria’s priority clearly lies in preserving social harmony within Jackson, potentially overshadowing Ellie’s legitimate grievances. Compelling Ellie to passively endure a half-hearted apology from someone who recently hurled homophobic slurs is a stark contrast to genuine allyship. This scenario mirrors the familiar discomfort of navigating prejudiced remarks from family members during social gatherings, where maintaining superficial peace is prioritized over addressing injustice. It’s understandable that this iteration of Ellie might view Jackson’s proclaimed “community” with cynicism, feeling consistently undermined by those purportedly protecting her interests.
As Ellie and Jesse embark on their patrol, they spot a distant snowstorm, deemed unlikely to reach Jackson, remaining confined to the mountains. Unforeseen dangers might reside in those very mountains, however.
The Wolf Circles Her Prey
In the ostensibly uninhabited mountains, Abby battles the cold during her watch. As the temperature becomes unbearable, prompting her to retreat, she detects the sound of a horse nearby. Had the horse remained silent, the season’s trajectory might have drastically altered. Abby spots two Jackson patrol members, initiating a closer observation.
The snowstorm, while not directly hitting Jackson, disrupts radio communications. Tommy orders patrols to return, but Ellie and Jesse are too distant to return through the blizzard. They seek refuge in an abandoned 7-Eleven, formerly associated with Eugene, Gail’s deceased husband. The store is filled with cannabis and Firefly paraphernalia, revealing Eugene’s past involvement with the resistance movement before disillusionment with violence led him to abandon it. Information about Eugene remains sparse, but Jesse’s remark about Joel having to “put him down” suggests a complex, tragic event. Ellie’s muted reaction hints at a deeper, unresolved issue.
Abby, armed heavily, persists in tracking the Jackson patrol. In a display of reckless determination, she attempts to scale an icy mountainside, emphasizing her singular focus on her mission, even at personal risk. This impetuous action results in a fall into a mass of frozen infected, mirroring the type Jesse cautioned Ellie about. Hordes of infected pursue her down the mountain, ultimately trapping her beneath a collapsed fence. The ensuing scene effectively captures the suffocating tension from the game, culminating in a gunshot that fells an infected pinning Abby. Joel, unknowingly, has rescued the very person intent on ending his life.
The show’s early revelation of Abby’s intentions imbues this encounter with palpable dread, knowing Joel is oblivious to the imminent danger. Abby recognizes Dina’s voice calling out Joel’s name, piecing together their identities. Instead of immediate confrontation, she exploits the infected assaulting their shelter to entice Joel to a seemingly secure location: the lodge harboring her companions.
The audience’s foreknowledge of Abby’s identity transforms this segment into a suspenseful build-up, experienced differently than in the game. In the game, Abby is an enigmatic, initially unexplained character, heightening the shock of subsequent events. Here, the overt foreshadowing creates a different, albeit morbidly engaging, form of tension. While this approach provides a unique viewing experience, it diverges from the narrative structure of The Last of Us Part II, which relies on unfolding mysteries of grief, vengeance, and reconciliation. The immediate disclosure of Abby’s motives potentially diminishes the impact for new viewers, denying them the initial speculative phase experienced by game players. However, this upfront approach might be a strategic choice to avoid protracted speculation across seasons, addressing frustrations voiced by game fans regarding the original pacing.
Danger Approaches
Tommy’s recall order reaches all patrols except Joel and Dina’s, prompting urgent efforts to locate them. This paternal concern is soon overshadowed by a larger crisis. While searching for Joel, Jackson’s crew discovers active cordyceps tendrils in the town’s piping, coinciding with reports of a massive infected horde nearing the perimeter. Jackson faces threats from multiple fronts, unaware of the impending catastrophe.
Simultaneously, Joel, Abby, and Dina are pursued by infected. However, the tendrils within Jackson’s infrastructure trigger a shift in the horde’s behavior, redirecting them towards the town, abandoning their pursuit of Joel’s group. Jackson’s emergency drills are about to face their ultimate test.
Civilians seek refuge in underground shelters as armed residents prepare to defend Jackson. While Jackson previously mobilized against bandits in The Last of Us Part I, the show emphasizes the community’s organized and militarized readiness, contrasting with its social events and internal prejudices. The Last of Us typically concentrates on intimate acts of violence, rarely depicting large-scale community defense against infected hordes. This impending battle represents possibly the largest conflict shown within this universe, with Jackson utilizing improvised defenses like barricades of vehicles and fuel barrels.
The disparity between Jackson’s improvised defenses and the Washington Liberation Front’s (WLF) military-grade armaments, Abby’s Seattle faction, highlights the contrasting approaches between Ellie and Abby. Ellie’s arsenal consists of makeshift traps and standard firearms, whereas Abby possesses advanced weaponry capable of efficiently eliminating infected. Even post-apocalypse, The Last of Us subtly indicates socioeconomic disparities through access to militarized technology versus rudimentary survival equipment. Jackson’s reliance on resourcefulness against Abby’s group’s sophisticated weaponry underscores this difference, especially significant as we observe rather than embody these characters’ experiences within the game’s interactive framework. It remains to be seen how the show will further explore these contrasting approaches to violence and survival solely through passive viewing.
Observing the devastation engulfing Jackson, Joel initially considers returning to assist, but Abby, feigning provision of ammunition and reinforcements, redirects him. Their assistance is desperately needed as a massive bloater breaches Jackson’s defenses. The infected assault proves deeply distressing, as they overwhelm one of the few functional communities in this world. Once vibrant buildings are decimated, and defenders retreat in panic, abandoning crucial supplies. Tommy’s desperate attempt to deter the bloater with a flamethrower feels like a last-ditch effort. For a moment, the show hints at a possible tragic sacrifice for Tommy, but ultimately, the bloater succumbs to the flames, and Benji retains his father—a rare instance of paternal survival in this narrative context.
Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned
Abby’s companions, searching for her, are surprised by her return, escorting her captive. Inside the lodge, Abby seeks warmth. Mel attends to Dina’s frostbite, during which Dina, astute despite her condition, questions their origins. Their “W.L.F.” insignia and patches offer limited information. Dina’s direct inquiry about their identity elicits only names. The revelation that their captives are Dina and Joel abruptly chills the atmosphere. Joel, preoccupied with contacting Jackson, only registers the tension when Manny (Danny Ramirez) aims a gun at Dina. Abby clarifies that Dina’s safety depends on Joel’s cooperation, ordering Mel to sedate Dina. When Mel hesitates, Abby threatens violence against Dina, prompting Mel’s reluctant compliance and reassurances to a terrified Dina and a concerned Joel. Their mission’s sole objective was Joel’s death, with collateral actions unplanned—except, perhaps, by Abby herself.
Nora (Tati Gabrielle) disarms Joel. In an aside, Nora’s current appearance bears a striking resemblance to Jordan from Naughty Dog’s upcoming game, Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet — a case of notable brand synergy. Ironically, despite this, the narrative subtlety of the Last of Us games seems conspicuously absent here, as the ensuing scene feels overly explicit and unsubtle. Joel discerns that Abby’s group are not generic raiders but military—specifically, former Fireflies, as Abby clarifies. The organization dissolved after Joel’s Salt Lake City massacre. Abby launches into a villainous monologue, detailing Joel’s devastating impact when he chose to save Ellie at the cost of numerous lives.
She confirms details of Joel’s description from five years prior, even remarking on his “pretty handsome” appearance, a line that feels incongruous in this context and reminiscent of Pascal’s contract stipulations. While a minor critique, it exemplifies a broader issue: the scene’s extended dramatic execution diminishes the raw, brutal impact present in the original source material. In Part II, Abby offered no explanations to Joel, and the mystery surrounding her identity and motives significantly deepened the narrative’s emotional resonance for Joel, Ellie, and the player. HBO’s adaptation, however, prioritizes overt exposition, seemingly valuing dramatic dialogue over nuanced, unspoken storytelling. The result is a theatrical scene, heavy on dialogue intended to clarify emotional states, potentially at the expense of the scene’s inherent tension and ambiguity.
Abby’s monologue culminates in Joel’s confession regarding his Salt Lake City actions, before she proceeds with her vengeance. She shoots him in the leg with a shotgun, and orders Mel to treat the wound, demonstrating a chillingly measured approach. Mel’s hesitation underscores the moral ambiguity of the situation, and Owen urges her to fulfill their mission. Abby reveals her motive: her father was the surgeon Joel prevented from operating on Ellie. She recounts her life in Seattle with the WLF, adhering to a code against harming defenseless individuals—a code now overridden by Joel’s perceived transgression.
Since The Last of Us’s 2013 debut, Ellie has resonated deeply as a relatable character—a queer, angry individual grappling with familial complexities and profound loss, seeking meaning in a bleak world. However, in this pivotal moment, Joel’s exasperated command for Abby to “just shut the fuck up and do it already” perhaps becomes the most relatable line. The elaborate theatricality and diminished narrative impact prompt questions about the adaptation’s goals. Are these simply plot points to be recounted, or were the games crafted experiences designed to evoke specific emotional connections and player engagement? The Last of Us seems overly concerned with plot recitation, potentially neglecting the experiential essence that made the games so compelling.
Replicating the player’s profound sense of betrayal at Abby’s brutal act – facilitated by the player’s embodied perspective and the gradual, disorienting reveal – is challenging in a passive medium. However, maintaining some level of narrative ambiguity, mirroring the initial player experience, could approximate the story’s intended dissonances more effectively than overt exposition. Observing Ellie’s actions in ignorance of Abby’s motivations, with a later reveal, could preserve crucial narrative elements, fostering a deeper understanding of the story’s construction rather than simply presenting chronological events without interpretive depth.
This potential is largely unrealized here, as Abby’s extensive monologue to Joel dissipates much of the intended mystery and visceral impact. It raises questions about the showrunners’ interpretation of the games – as a series of watchable events, or as crafted experiences designed to elicit specific emotions tied to player agency. The effectiveness of The Last of Us Part II as a thorny, divisive narrative stems directly from its interactive nature as a video game. This crucial element appears to be either minimized or overlooked in this adaptation, which seems to treat the player-protagonist attachment as a secondary feature rather than a fundamental aspect of the story’s power.
“If I Ever Were to Lose You…”
Ellie arrives at the lodge, noticing Joel and Dina’s horses. Entering cautiously, she hears screams from upstairs and ascends, gun drawn. Confronted with a gruesome scene, she’s ambushed by Manny, disarmed and subdued. Despite being restrained, she manages to wound him with her switchblade. She desperately calls to Joel, who can only watch helplessly. Owen, visibly disturbed by Abby’s protracted actions, urges her to finish it. Over Ellie’s pleas, Abby uses a broken golf club to stab Joel in the neck. While less visually brutal than the skull-crushing depicted in the game, it serves the narrative purpose. This alteration might reflect concerns about depicting extreme violence against Pedro Pascal or a preemptive measure against online “golf club” memes. Regardless, it’s a noteworthy change.
As Ellie’s senses are overwhelmed by adrenaline, Owen and Manny’s argument becomes inaudible. Ellie vows to avenge them all, provoking Manny to violently silence her. She crawls to Joel’s lifeless body as Abby and her group depart, seemingly fulfilling their sole objective. In a moment of raw grief, she embraces Joel’s corpse—a gesture that, while emotionally charged, verges on excessive melodrama, illustrating the show’s tendency towards overt emotional signaling.
In a poignant, almost redemptive moment, Ashley Johnson’s rendition of “Through the Valley” plays during the concluding scenes. Abby’s group silently departs towards Seattle; Jackson’s residents contend with remaining infected threats; and Jesse arrives to retrieve Joel’s body.
My initial playthrough of this segment in The Last of Us Part II in 2020 resulted in profound emotional distress. Watching HBO’s adaptation, however, evoked an unexpected, disquieting laughter, possibly colored by pre-existing expectations and visceral memories of the game. For first-time viewers, the scene’s impact might be different. For me, it served as a stark reminder of the show’s fundamental disconnect from the source material’s core experiential and narrative depths.