The Last of Us has never hesitated to explore the darker sides of humans, but Episode 8, “When We Are In Need”, brings it to a whole new level that is deeply unsettling. It’s a point in the series where the show is very explicit about its intentions. The causality of the virus is left behind, and the show focuses on something significantly more dreadful – the capacity of humans to do monstrous things in extreme situations.
The ice is covering everything, and the silence is both suffocating and energizing at the same time. The whole cast should be congratulated — the vibe is almost tangible. The coldness and silence are something you can almost touch. Beautiful and haunting, according to Scot Scoop. Your mind is working overtime, jumping to the conclusion that villains will suddenly attack our main couple. Jackson versus the scary and deserted dining room where David’s group meets – you can’t get more different than that. It’s quite a shock to the system, reaffirming how far Ellie and Joel are from any kind of safety.
Yet the true dangers here are not the miserable weather conditions or the infected. One of the first things we learn about from David (Scott Shepherd) is that he is the opposite of safe, with a very unnerving calm. He personifies the worst leader of the apocalypse: to cram it all into one, he’s a cannibal, a church-attired deceiver, and, as we later find out, a predator. The most disturbing thing is that he was a teacher. As IGN puts it, “a cannibal pedophile, he is checking off all the things on a devil’s checklist.” However, David is not just a villain who is introduced with a nice bow. His sickly fixation on cordyceps fungus—if only it implies some sort of bond or “love”—basically adds a repugnant philosophical angle. While Den of Geek considers his argument “a little silly and dismissible,” the idea could have been great if given more time.
The cannibalism reveal is accomplished with cold, chilling subtlety in the episode. One of the most disturbing moments isn’t gory—it’s quiet. The queasiness of the group’s shame during a meal, topped with the dawning horror that the “venison” is a human named Alec, has a stomach-churning effect. As Pajiba puts it, “humans are the real monsters”—and in this world, maybe cannibalism is not even their darkest transgression.
Ellie’s journey here is ugly and traumatic. Bella Ramsey is fantastic, giving a performance that is both emotionally exposed and intensely resolute. When Ellie finally lashes out, murdering David with a cleaver in a moment of desperate anger, it’s a terrifying catharsis. IGN calls it “an intense second of violence set within a gorgeous frame—the fire burning as Ellie expels all of the bottled up rage and pain from all she’s lost.” This is her redemption. She rescues herself. She’s incredibly traumatized, but she lives—and that counts.
Joel, meanwhile, reveals a side of himself that’s been teased but never clearly shown—until now. His search for Ellie is brutal, methodical, and unrelenting. Den of Geek reflects, “We know he’s done bad things in the past, but now we’re seeing that he’s willing to let that dark side of himself out if it means protecting Ellie.” The show cleverly draws a line between Joel and David. Both are willing to go to extremes, but only one has lost his humanity completely.
The acting throughout is superb. Bella Ramsey infuses Ellie with so much depth—gutsy, fearful, angry, and still clinging to some thread of optimism. Pedro Pascal’s Joel is just as captivating, particularly the last scene, when he comes across Ellie and softly calls her “baby girl”—a minor but intensely emotional moment that says a great deal. As IGN observes, “Bella Ramsey and Pedro Pascal are once again astounding in a poignant outpouring of anger, relief, and tenderness.”
Theatrically, Episode 8 does not hold back. It’s not monsters in the classical sense of the word—it’s survival, it’s trauma, and how individuals transform when the universe ceases to play by any set of moral guidelines. As Scot Scoop concludes, “it is a story dedicated to regular people,” and how they behave when pushed beyond their limits.” That readiness to investigate moral grayness is part of what makes The Last of Us so compelling—and so unlike most tales about the post-apocalypse.
Technically, this is among the most gorgeous episodes to date. The cinematography walks the fine line between the harshness of a western and the horror of contemporary terror. The music—particularly throughout Ellie’s escape on horseback—is beating, tense, and exquisitely in sync with the visuals, recalling at times the eerie score of Blade Runner 2049.
The series also makes intelligent adaptation decisions. It cuts back on some of the gameplay from the game, such as the long infected sequences, in favor of a narrative that’s character-centric. Some fans might be missing those nods to gameplay, but the trade-off is worth it. Providing more depth to David and a focus on Ellie’s trauma gives the story more gravity. As IGN frames it, “the show takes away with one hand, [but] it does consistently give us those useful little extra moments of context with the other.”
Episode 8 of The Last of Us is a masterclass in storytelling. It confirms that game adaptations don’t need to hold back from heavy subjects or hard truths. It’s harrowing, emotional, and horrifically disturbing—in the very best manner. And if this episode teaches us anything, it’s that the most terrifying monsters aren’t external. They are already amongst us.