House of Dragon, The White Lotus, and, now, The Last of Us… HBO is on a roll lately, churning out success after success. Based on the 2013 video game produced by Naughty Dog for Sony PlayStation, The Last of Us takes place during a zombie apocalypse. But it’s not really about the zombies—it’s about humanity. And though this is the premise of many apocalyptic narratives (think of The Walking Dead), The Last of Us is one of the few instances when it turns out to be true.
Twenty years after a fungal infection has turned most of the population into zombies, Joel (Pedro Pascal), a smuggler, is assigned a special task: transporting fourteen-year-old Ellie (Bella Ramsey) to the anti-government group Fireflies. Why? Ellie might be the key to developing a cure for the infection, as she appears to be immune to the Cordyceps fungus. As he reluctantly accompanies her on this journey, fighting off zombies (or “infected”, as they call them) and humans alike, Joel goes from viewing Ellie as mere cargo to caring for her as he did for the daughter he lost.
How does The Last of Us portray male and female gender roles?
Now, my feminist zillennal brain might be reading too much into it, but I find that the interesting question addressed by The Last of Us and other post-apocalyptic narratives is the following: if gender is a social construct (as argued not only by feminist theory but by the World Health Organization) what happens when society as we know it collapses?
The short answer is things get a lot worse. Masculinity seems to thrive in a post-apocalyptic world that calls for violence, strength, and rationality–all values that are gendered as male, as opposed to nurturance, tenderness, and emotionality, which are signifiers of femininity. Joel embodies all the characteristics of the stereotypical male action hero: hardened by his tragic past, he is emotionally detached, brave, and physically strong. He keeps his word, and resorts to ruthless violence to survive and reach his goals. He takes on protecting Ellie to keep his promise to his friend and smuggling partner Tess (Anna Torv), but he stubbornly refuses to care for her and makes himself emotionally vulnerable.
As for the female characters, both Tess and Kathleen (Melanie Lynskey), the leader of the Kansas City rebels, are strong and successful in a traditionally masculine way. The only way they can make it in the post-apocalyptic world of The Last of Us is by aligning their values and their behaviors with hegemonic masculinity—as expressions of femininity would make them weak. Yet, despite their efforts, both Tess and Kathleen are ultimately unsuccessful: they end up being brutally killed (and violated, in Tess’s case, through a “clicker kiss”).
So, post-apocalyptic society sounds just like our society, on steroids. Our world, or today’s Western, privileged world, deems femininity as weak and inferior, while masculine qualities are not merely exalted, but necessary in order to survive. Even with zombies roaming the streets, the patriarchy still stands.
However, as the show progresses, we see Joel’s character undergo a transformation. As he bonds with Ellie, he displays compassion and empathy. He is given a second chance at being a father figure, and to tap into that tender, caring nature he had buried down deep after the death of his daughter. It is perhaps his weakness, but it is also what gives him purpose.
Frank and Bill's love story in The Last of Us defies expectations
Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Bill (Nick Offerman) and Frank (Murray Bartlett), who broke the internet with their sweet, heartbreaking love story. While in the game we only briefly meet Bill after Frank’s death and the nature of their relationship is only implied, the show dedicates a whole self-contained episode to the couple. Titled “Long Long Time”, fans and critics alike highly praised episode three, with Victoria Ritvo calling it “a masterpiece in its own right”.
When we first meet Bill, he’s a survivalist who waits for the military to evacuate his town before turning it into a self-sufficient fortress, surrounded by electric fences and booby traps. Like Joel, everything about him screams “macho action hero who needs no one”. Enter Frank, a passerby who falls into one of his traps. Bill reluctantly lets Frank into his home and into his heart and discovers that it’s possible to live, not merely survive, even when the world is crashing and burning. Together, they transform Bill’s solitary fortress into a safe haven, where they can cook, sing, paint, water plants, grow strawberries, love, and die on their own terms. "I'm old, I'm satisfied, and you were my purpose,” Bill tells Frank, revealing he’s not willing to go on living without him.
In a world where stereotypically masculine qualities seem necessary to survive, Bill and Frank shattered gender stereotypes and were the happiest of them all. And if that doesn’t say something about our own society…