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The following contains spoilers for season two of The Last of Us.
Season two of The Last of Us ā the HBO series based on a videogame about a mushroom-based zombie apocalypse ā has given fans plenty of queer material to chew on. Best friends Ellie (Bella Ramsey) and Dina (Isabela Merced) had their first kiss but were interrupted by a drunken bigot. The pair traveled to Seattle, and Ellie serenaded Dina on guitar. Dina revealed she is pregnant, and Ellie wants to raise the baby with her. They had sex for the first time. Dina explored her feelings about bisexuality.
The second season of the show proposes an interesting dichotomy about queerness during the apocalypse. Over the course of a few episodes, we learn two things: homophobia still exists, but gay pride doesnāt.
During the first episode of season two, Ellie and Dina share their first kiss during the town dance. One of the other townspeople, Seth (Robert John Burke), interrupts their sweet moment by telling them it's a family event and calling them dykes. This leads to a confrontation between Seth and Joel (Pedro Pascal), creating another rift between Ellie and her adoptive father. Seth later apologizes to Ellie (which happens in the game) and gives Ellie and Dina supplies for their revenge-fueled trip to Seattle (which doesnāt happen in the game). Frankly, itās all rather glib.
In episode four, Ellie and Dina finally arrive in Seattle, where Ellie intends to carry out her revenge plot. Their first stop is Capitol Hill, also known as Seattleās āgayborhood.ā They ride around on horseback observing all the pride flags, but they donāt know their meaning. "What's up with all the rainbows?ā Dina asks. āI dunno. Maybe they were all optimists,ā Ellie responds. Later, Ellie serenades Dina in a record store (mirroring a beloved scene from the game), and their relationship progresses from there.
Reactions to Sethās arc in the show have varied. In Polygon, Susana Polo questions the seriesā assertion that homophobia is the only prejudice that seems to have survived the apocalypse. Despite their varying levels of brutality and/or cultishness, all of the other groups weāve encountered thus far seem to treat women and people of color as equal citizens, at least where their ability to fight, strategize, and lead is concerned. Polo suggests that this uneven depiction of an apocalyptic world stems in part from the recent push to write more diverse characters without attending to what that diversity means in each universe.
When it comes to Sethās presence in season two, Polo is most concerned with how The Last of Us depicts tribalism, essentially the central organizing principle of the whole game/show. Have the prejudices of the old world fallen away as survival becomes paramount, or do they still weave their way into these new communities? Polo questions the world-building efforts of the creators, who āpresume the persistence of anti-queer prejudice so easily as to put it front and center, while hand-waving the role of identity prejudice in the formation of in-group-out-group dynamics⦠in their story thatās entirely about in-group-out-group dynamics.ā
Series creators Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann spoke to Wired about their decision to include (or not include) real-world issues in the show. Mazin suggested that the world is partially stuck in the past, the year that the world ended. āIf there is a moment that is upsetting, it is in and of itself a reminder of the way things were,ā Mazin explained. āWe didnāt just want to sweep that under the rug.ā Notably, while the Outbreak began in 2013 in the game, it begins in 2003 in the show, so the contemporary storyline takes place in 2023 rather than 2033. While this could help explain why homophobia persists in the post-apocalyptic era, it doesnāt explain why other prejudices, like racism and sexism, donāt (at least that weāve seen).
On the other hand, Druckmann, co-creator of the game, told Wired that contemporary politics and social issues donāt factor into the showās creation whatsoever. āWe try to just shut out all outside pressure and voices as much as we can and really focus on the story,ā he noted. (Interestingly enough, Druckmann has admitted the idea for the game stemmed from his perspective on Israelās war on Palestine, a parallel he has brought up more than once.)
Ellie and Dinaās experiences in Seattle complicate these ideas about identity and prejudice. Episode four depicts the blossoming of a queer relationship within the context of an enxtreely harsh world ā one in which the concept of pride no longer exists. While Ellie and Dina donāt know what the pride flag means, audiences do, and the fact that this pivotal episode takes place in Capitol Hill is significant. Reactions to this episode highlighted this dissonance. Fans across social media noted how sad it was that Ellie and Dina recognized a homophobic slur but not a rainbow flag.
This stark contrast is an affective piece of storytelling, but it's also somewhat perplexing. We can return to the presumption made in many post-apocalyptic stories ā that prejudice and identity politics (at least the ones weāre familiar with) have fallen away. If pre-existing identity categories have become less important, it follows that pride would fall to the wayside as well. This configuration is at least partially invalidated by Sethās behavior at the dance, in addition to Ellie and Dinaās awareness of his hurtful words.
To give the series the benefit of the doubt, perhaps we are to assume a distinction between those who remember the old times and those who donāt. Maybe those who grew up after the world ended werenāt steeped in homophobia or pride. Itās also possible that both homophobia and queer history are better preserved in some communities than in others.
The episode offers up another kernel of context for us to consider. After finally admitting her feelings for Ellie, Dina explains why itās been so hard for her to reckon with them. She knew she liked boys and girls from a young age, but her mother made it clear boys were the only option. We can presume that Dina was never introduced to the concept of bisexuality ā especially when we discover she grew up without any community apart from her family ā and has internalized her motherās words. Ellie, on the other hand, seems more comfortable with her sexuality, though she rarely discusses it in detail.
Many fans noted that they felt seen by Dinaās story, which parallels many experiences in the real world. Ellieās response to Dinaās pregnancy, āIām gonna be dad,ā similarly moved fans, who appreciated that the couple were able to experience this moment of queer joy (and a bit of gender-bending). Still, while Dinaās familiar coming-out narrative invites audience identification, this conventional story feels slightly odd considering the context. What could Ellie and Dinaās story look like without conventions? The world has been almost entirely reshaped, after all.
To be sure, itās not like the show will fall apart if these questions remain unanswered. But itās worth considering how the show depicts identity and difference. Did this apocalypse produce a world thatās post-race and post-gender, but not post-sexuality? Is the showās tribalism totally divorced from pre-apocalyptic identity formation? From Sethās arc, we learn that if homophobia does exist, it can be superseded by the in-group and out-group dynamics forged in this new world. Whether or not this means prejudice has or can be eradicated in this world remains unclear.
As for gay pride, it appears this relic of the before-times hasnāt crossed over. As violently enforced tribalism further fragmented an already dispersed population, perhaps other avenues of connection and alliance disappeared as a result. If most of society were occupied by survival, it tracks that personal journeys and individuation would become less important. At the same time, The Last of Usā focus on Ellie and Dinaās relationship and coming-of-age reveals the showās investment in mapping out its narratives onto contemporary social issues. Who killed the world?
Iād love to hear your thoughts on the show or game āĀ if you have any, leave them in the comments below!
there will always be women in rubber flirting with her
open to find out whatever the hell this means.
Hi there! I really liked your post and I think there is something weird about the whole pride forgetfulness. I originally noticed it during the game, though it is much more subtle with just one comment from Dina which can be easily missed, and then again in the show, where it is much more present. I agree with you in the sense of not being verosmil, but not as much in the sense that there is no other bias or prejudice in the game. Yes, it's true that it seems that way, but I believe that it is because we have not spent enough time with large groups of people or communities, neither in the game nor in the show, to be able to recognize some of that, we spend almost the entirety of both games with two characters in isolation, where communities are only shown to provide context or move the story forward but not in depth as to what goes on inside them. But, take the scars or Seraphites for example, they have a very strict gendered way of living, where women have the caretaker and domestic roles and men have more of a leader or soldier role (we have Yara tell Abby that Lev was supposed to be on cleaning duty like the women, when he wanted to be a soldier like the men). So, in conclusion, I do think they could have not included that pride segment but at the same time I don't think the world of The Last Of Us is completely void of every other prejudice, it's just that we had not the chance to see it. Thank you for your post!