HBO has adapted the hit video game The Last Of Us into a popular TV series. The most recent episode, its third, has garnered wide-spread critical acclaim. It was presented as a tragic love story that left audiences deeply saddened. When my wife and I watched this episode, I was also made to feel horribly sad.
But not for the reason the show intended.
HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THIS EPISODE AHEAD.
The show centers around Bill (Nick Offerman), a doomsday prepper who hates the government, is a gun-nut and self-sufficient man. When Fedra comes and empties out his town, he hides in his bunker until they escape. Now without the burden of people, Bill builds a secure oasis for himself in this tiny hamlet, surrounded by electric fences, booby traps, and containing all the niceties of life like electricity and gas. Things change for Bill when Frank (Murray Bartlett) falls into one of Bill's traps. Bill rescues him and feeds him. Then Bill, who was a closeted gay man, begins a love affair with Frank that lasts for decades. They remain in their little community, isolated, only occasionally trading with the main character of the show. Eventually Frank gets a debilitating disease and Bill must care for him. One morning Frank decides to commit suicide, despite Bill's protestations. Frank tells them that they are going to get "married," Bill will cook a delicious dinner and then poison him with his pain meds in his wine. When dinner is over, Bill puts the pain meds into Frank's wine and he drinks. Seeing this, Bill also poisons himself, not wanting to live without Frank. The two then go to their bed where they die.
This episode has been overwhelming praise from critics. And I must be completely fair to their assessments. The acting is excellent. Particularly Offerman is superb. I don't use that praise lightly. He plays all of this flawed man's contradictions with perfect stoic restraint until his emotional dams all break. It is one of the finest pieces of acting I've seen in TV all year. The direction of the show was also top-notch. The way this episode is filmed, it felt like a mini-movie rather than one episode of a series.
But all of this paints over a horrible darkness.
I am going to leave aside completely the fact that this romance involves a same-sex couple. The Christian faith is already incredibly clear on the morality of such a union. Even if this were an opposite-sex couple, there is still a pernicious world-view lurking at the bottom.
First of all, the love between these two is utterly selfish. Now, I don't mean to say that they don't have genuine affection and care. But this was a love that was turned inward towards each other and the rest of the world be damned. This is always a constant temptation of romantic love. All you do is look at the beloved. As Tony sings in West Side Story, "I saw you and the world went away." Everything becomes about feeding this romance. And it is true that all friendships, romances, and familial bonds run the risk of turning tribal. In desperate times, it makes sense to close ranks. But Bill and Frank are not simply scrapping by to survive. They thrive in their little island of civilization and do nothing to help save anyone else. How many families could have been saved and lived in relative safety in their community? Yes, this would have come with great risk, but this was not even a consideration. The only reason that Frank is allowed to stay originally is because of Bill's attraction to him.
Frank is particularly self-centered. Self-murder is always wrong, even though we feel horrible sympathy for him in his seemingly fatal illness. But there is no sense in him of anything bigger than himself. He no longer enjoys life, so he decides to end it. Bill seems perfectly content to take care of Frank until his passing. But Frank dictates to Bill that he will kill himself. He gives Bill no real time to come to terms with this decision. They will only have hours left together and what they do will be dictated by Frank. He even tells Bill what outfit he will wear and he can't say no. In fact, for Frank, it would be unloving of Bill to not give into his every whim. He asks Bill if he loves him. When Bill says "Yes," Frank responds, "Then love me the way I want you to love me."
"Love me the way I want you to love me."
This is almost the complete inversion of agape, the completely giving, unselfish love that we find in Christ dying for us on the cross. It is a purely gift love that gives without regard for reward. Frank instead demands complete subservience from Bill in the name of love. In Frank's eyes, Bill must bend his knee to his whims. In Christian marriage, it is true that we serve each other and I do my best to serve my wife as best I can. But if I really love her, I will not love her the way she wants to be loved. I will love her in the way that will help her be the best person she can be. And my wife does the same for me. She knows that part of her vocation is to help me become a saint instead of devolving into my little cocoon of selfishness.
And even though Bill and Frank had been together for decades, it is only on the day of his death that Frank finally wants to be married. It reminds me of the tragic death of Robert Fuller. Fuller was a dying man who chose assisted suicide because of a fatal cancer diagnosis. Moments before he was killed, he "married" his young romantic partner. What struck me about this similar detail is the view of marriage from this perspective.
For Frank (and perhaps Fuller, though I am less inclined to speculate about a real-life person), marriage was the capstone to the relationship. It was the epitaph on the tombstone. That is such an odd view of what marriage is. Marriage is not designed to be the final seal of approval to a romantic relationship. It is meant to be forward-looking. That is because marriage is the intended means by which we bring children into the world. A husband and wife form their bond with the intention of raising the next generation. It is partially about creating a stable and permanent bond, regardless of changing feelings, because that is the foundation on which healthy children can become prosperous adults. But Frank seems to view marriage as the diploma at the end of the course.
But the worst part about all of this is the utter despair. When Bill poisons himself, he says to Frank, "I'm old. I'm satisfied." Later in a letter from Bill, we understand that Bill's whole identity is caught up in taking care of Frank. Without Frank, Bill does not see a purpose to his life. This is something that Frank selfishly ignores with his decision. But I was struck by Bill's words. He talks about life as if it is a meal from which you partake until you've had enough. Once again, life is viewed as something that is pointed primarily towards self-satisfaction instead of something designed to be given away. Taking care of Frank was a kind thing to do for Bill, but it also was done because it made Bill happy. But once Bill thought that this happiness would leave, he decided he no longer wanted to live. He didn't consider using his remaining time to save some people in the relative safety of his village. He didn't consider doing any other act of kindness (other than letting the main character have access to his stuff). Bill's life had no meaning beyond his own self-satisfaction. Life becomes a video game that you quit when you've had enough of this world.
And implicit in all of this is that there is nothing beyond this world. Bill and Frank end their lives because it is the end of their love. They never say this explicitly, but it seems obvious that they despair of any kind of afterlife. They plan to go into the darkness, holding each other as they slip away. This hopelessness that they share makes it easier to understand why they do what they do. They want to hold onto this intense feeling as long as they can until they feel nothing at all. On this view, suicide makes total sense. Here, life has no meaning beyond what little happiness you can find. And once that happiness appears to go away, I lose my reason to live.
I can see this despair all over the place. Because there is no hope for heaven, people live in hell. I've mention before how one of my friends who I will call Puck, once said to me "If there is no afterlife, then everyone's life is tragic." And this true. If there is no afterlife, then we are condemned to lose every love we've ever had. And we will lose these loves forever. Even the musical theme from this episode emphasizes this. It is a song from Linda Ronstadt whose refrain is "I'm gonna love you, for a long, long time." Notice it is not a promise to love forever, but only for a while.
How differently we view love as Christians. In Christ, the real loves we have are things we can have for all eternity. All the love we share, if our goal is the salvation of each other's souls, can be redeemed for all eternity. I love my wife, my family, and my friends. But if we really love each other, we will do our best to bring each other to God. And then when we shuffle off this mortal coil, we will be able to hold onto those bonds of affection, not for "long, long time," but for all of eternity.
For that reason, this episode made me so sad. Too many people embrace this despair and do not live in hope. They turn inward towards self-satisfaction and not outward to generosity and charity. It makes me sad that the love that Jesus shared with us is no longer being embraced as the epitome of love.
But if we hold to this view of love and reject the despair and selfishness of this modern love, then when we pass from this world, it will not be the last of us.
