The Last of Us: Promise & Purpose in “The Price”
Season 2, Episode 6
“I don't think I can forgive you for this.”
Season 2 of The Last of Us (TLoU) has its ups and downs but episode 6, titled “The Price,” provides well written explanations and motivations in cinematographically tight storytelling. And the two main characters give us some surprisingly applicable lessons on making promises and finding purpose.
This article contains spoilers for The Last of Us (Seasons 1 & 2)
Preamble to the Porch
Season 1 introduced us to the cordyceps-riddled world of TLoU. But as many have said, this isn’t a zombie show in the traditional sense. As with any good storytelling, relational aspects are preeminent. And that’s where the surrogate father-daughter duo of Joel (played by Pedro Pascal) and Ellie (Bella Ramsey), come in.
In my article “The Last of Us: Episode 4’s Pivotal Pistol & Joke Joinery,” Joel and Ellie cemented their trust in one specific episode of Season 1. Similarly, I believe this episode of Season 2, like a ribbon drawn into a bow, ties their seemingly fractured relationship together.
But, as with most dystopian tales where actions have real and permanent consequences, Season 2 pulls no punches. Most shocking and heartbreaking for me, was Joel’s death in episode 2. Did you notice the intro’s subtle change from the duo’s shadowy silhouettes to Ellie alone (see Nerdist’s comparison here)?
Joel’s absence not only shapes the remaining episode storylines but permeates the audience’s perspective of every following event and interaction. “The Price” is rife with flashbacks, moving from tortured tension (Joel and his father in 1983) to sunny and surreal (Ellie’s early birthdays), and finally back to strained storms (later birthdays). But each of these complex moments are layered – cleverly providing subtext and juxtaposition for the family’s unraveling trust.
Paroxysms of Promise
Earlier in the season we had seen Ellie walk past Joel sitting on the porch after the New Year’s celebration. The rift was more than speech or body language - Ellie had annexed herself to the garage. Yet, she was still tethered to Joel and the house like an angsty astronaut to her ship. So what caused such a divide?
We learn that Joel and Ellie investigated a zombie attack, finding Psychotherapist Gail’s (Catherine O’Hara) husband, Eugene (Joe Pantoliano), had been bitten. Rifle drawn, Joel calmly explained they couldn’t bring him home. Ellie argued and Joel agreed to bring Eugene back. But Ellie was cautious - only once she heard Joel say, “I promise,” did she relent and go back for the horses.
It’s what happens next, Joel shooting Eugene, that breaks his relationship with Ellie. This is the pertinent backstory, along with Ellie’s enraged whistleblowing, that they’ve never talked about.
So when “The Price” brings us back to the porch on New Years night, the audience thinks they’re caught up. But more is in store. I love having seen a scene, then returning later, where the creators reveal that more transpired (similar to the Rashomon effect). Simply writing about this powerful dialogue does a disservice, here’s the transcript:
Joel: Making a cure... would've killed you.
Ellie: Then, I was supposed to die. That was my purpose. My life would have f---ing mattered! But you took that from me! You took it from everyone.
Joel: Yes. And I'll pay the price... because you're gonna turn away from me. But if somehow I had a second chance at that moment... I would do it all over again.
Ellie: Because you're selfish.Joel: Because I love you. In a way you... you can't understand. Maybe you never will. But if that day should come... if you should ever have one of your own... well, then... I hope you do a little better than me.
Ellie: I don't think I can forgive you for this. But I would like to try.
There’s so much here – Ellie felt purposeless, her hunch of Joel’s genocide imbued by a selfish motive, the tee’d up trifecta of parenting “a little better than me” – but there’s one thing immediately more important, more impactful. That last line contains a pause we don’t see or feel in the written word. It is a break in dialogue with the potential to heal the break in the relationship.
“I don't think I can forgive you for this. [PAUSE] But I would like to try.”
Oh, that rends the heartstrings, that’s a chance at redemption and reconciliation! That’s everything Joel could have hoped for.
In retrospect, Joel’s initial mistake was not trusting Ellie with the truth of his Salt Lake City massacre. As soon as Joel lied about Eugene, Ellie believed he was a serial liar.[i] She said as much. Had he lied about anything else? So she had to draw a line in the sand and tell him he could never break a promise again. And if he broke this promise, she would never forgive him.
My wife has a theory that in some ways Ellie was being a moody teen who was mad at Joel for lying but didn’t actually hate him for saving her in Salt Lake. Daniel Chin argues that the two flashback episodes of Season 1 set the relational stakes with “Ellie finding someone who would never abandon her.” Makes sense, right? Orphaned, hunted, held prisoner, Ellie must protect herself but once she trusts Joel, she can relax a little.
There’s nothing quite like feeling someone has your back. Not only does it feel a lot like love, it builds belief too. But a willingness to try and forgive shows maturity and Jesus’ love. Think of those fueled by having enemies and holding grudges, what a meaningless and purposeless life.
Chin’s line about Ellie wanting someone who wouldn’t abandon her, keeps rattling around in my brain. Our word should be an unbreakable promise. My pastor recently showed a graph where a line of trust is consistently increasing unless it’s broken, then the line dips low, taking a long time to start an upward trajectory (if ever). Often, we never get the trust level back to where it was.
Potential Purpose: Defying Doomsday
Trust is a crucial yet intangible factor in all relationships. My nephew has been lying recently and it makes me question literally everything he says. He’s a good kid and often there’s no reason or benefit to the dishonesty, but it’s become a (hopefully temporary) habit. Parents not being able to trust their kids is scary, yet adults are supposed to have the emotional stability and toolkit to guide them toward maturity. But imagine being a child unable to trust their guardian.
When, as a parent like Joel, we let fear dictate our measure of truth-telling, our kid’s foundations can be shaken to the core. After all, learning your protector and provider is withholding or actively lying does incredible damage.
Unsurprisingly, Ellie’s trauma festers. She rehearses questions for Joel about how he overpowered the Fireflies in Salt Lake City. She pushes for more responsibility in the Jackson community (a characteristic mentioned in my previous TLoU article). Amidst her sketches, she has written “You have a greater purpose” around one of the moths.
That lack of purpose haunts Ellie and, if we’re honest, it can haunt us. As I said at the beginning, good writing makes relational aspects preeminent. I’m fortunate to know my purpose. It’s not as decisive or glamorous or deterministic as it sounds. For me, it’s a general understanding of what God wants me doing, but the path and details often require instruction.
It’s comforting knowing the Creator of the universe has appointed each of us to do specific things. And while this mentality can lead to manifest destiny and a host of other atrocities, a proper biblical worldview can build a humble and healthy confidence.
But with an untrustworthy father-figure, Ellie is sorely lacking that healthy confidence. Ellie is also unique. She is a typical teen in that she’s discontent, simultaneously seeking safety and stunts. But she’s also a walking immunization - humanity’s hope. So even if Ellie doesn’t believe in a higher power, she knows she has a potential purpose.
The Promise of Purpose
I can’t be the first to realize Ellie modified her purpose midway through the season. Even knowing everything bad Joel had done, the lies and killing, she still went to avenge him. And maybe this change from perceived purpose (savior of humanity) to attempted purpose (vengeance and bringing the Wolves to justice) has a lesson for us. Now, as Westerners, it can be difficult to accept storytelling where a savior would “throw their life away.”
No, I’m not going to lazily manipulate Ellie into some kind of Christological figure. Instead, I wonder: do we ever ask if our perceived purpose is worthy of Jesus’ sacrifice and calling? Is it possible that a higher power, who I believe is God, has a purpose different than what we believe to be glaringly obvious? It’s easy enough to find out – just ask Him. He promises to answer if we’re sincere…and don’t worry, He’s trustworthy.
[i] I think Ellie would rather Joel be a serial killer than a serial liar.