Manbearcat
Legend
I have many problems with this game, but I'll start and end with these two things:
1) It made me feel exactly like watching Alien 3 again. Ripley (my favorite character of all time) had absolutely everything taken from her...and the story that spun out of it could not have been less emotionally or theatrically compelling.
2) If you're making The Last of Us 2, your very first creative meeting must be utterly centered around 1 question and 1 question only:
"How do we make a sequel that doesn't answer the deeply provocative question that the original game saddles you with (in a world that lays bare the absolutely abomination that humanity will devolve to in such an apocalypse, is it reasonable to sacrifice a beautiful, utterly worthwhile creature in order to have a shot at salvaging the monstrous vestige of humanity...or...did Joel make the right decision)?"
If you answer that question, you've erred terribly.
If you answer that question emphatically with such decisiveness so as to leave no possible interpretation...you've essentially burned your creative legacy on a pyre of your own staggering misjudgement or comprehension of what emotionally compelled/provoked TLoU to its ascendent status.
Simply put, if you cannot make a sequel that fundamentally stays away from answering that question...don't make a sequel.
1) It made me feel exactly like watching Alien 3 again. Ripley (my favorite character of all time) had absolutely everything taken from her...and the story that spun out of it could not have been less emotionally or theatrically compelling.
2) If you're making The Last of Us 2, your very first creative meeting must be utterly centered around 1 question and 1 question only:
"How do we make a sequel that doesn't answer the deeply provocative question that the original game saddles you with (in a world that lays bare the absolutely abomination that humanity will devolve to in such an apocalypse, is it reasonable to sacrifice a beautiful, utterly worthwhile creature in order to have a shot at salvaging the monstrous vestige of humanity...or...did Joel make the right decision)?"
If you answer that question, you've erred terribly.
If you answer that question emphatically with such decisiveness so as to leave no possible interpretation...you've essentially burned your creative legacy on a pyre of your own staggering misjudgement or comprehension of what emotionally compelled/provoked TLoU to its ascendent status.
Simply put, if you cannot make a sequel that fundamentally stays away from answering that question...don't make a sequel.