The Last of Us Part 1 is excellent. I suppose we all expected as much from a modern revival of Naughty Dog’s finest hour, needless as its existence might be. Enhanced visuals and improved gameplay mechanics update a journey that had already stood the test of time, with all of these additional bells and whistles helping to make it feel much more immersive.
I’m having a ball with it, and if that makes me a massive hypocrite given my past criticisms, please lock me away in gamer jail and throw away the key. Combat is weightier, emotions are deeper, and the world is so much easier to lose yourself in. I keep finding myself standing in the middle of abandoned streets, admiring the overgrown foliage and looted storefronts, each with their own stories to tell. Joel and Ellie roam a world that was once filled with life, and now they have no choice but to pilfer the remains in search of temporary salvation.
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These moments shine brighter than ever. Previously outdated textures and character expressions are brought to life with newfound fluidity, while familiar locales are given fresh relevance through additional environmental detail and item placement that makes logical sense within this desolate universe so closely tied to our own. Most changes are made for the better, but there is definitely an element of subtlety lost as a consequence of all this flair.
We all remember this game’s opening for its relentless heartbreak. We are introduced to characters and torn away from them only minutes later, forced to watch our protagonist as the apocalypse unfolds, and he loses the one thing that matters to him most in the world. The remake further cements this
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