The Last of Us has always been willing to look at the dark side of human nature, but it has gone even further in a very unsettling way in its eighth episode, “When We Are In Need”. This is the point where the series gets really brutal. It moves away the fear of the infection and, instead, focuses on this extremely terrifying thing, i.e., the kind of things people can do if they are pressed to the limit.
Buried in ice and quiet, it provides an eerie backdrop that’s as isolating as it is tense. The production crew gets solid credit here—the atmosphere is almost palpable. You can practically feel the bite of cold and the drag of the isolation. As Scot Scoop explained, “the locations have a beautiful, haunting quality.”. You never know, something might jump out and attack our main couple. The disparity between Jackson’s safety and the barren, haunted dinner hall where David’s group meets is extreme. It’s a good reminder of just how far removed Ellie and Joel are from any kind of security.
But the actual threat in this episode is not the weather, nor even the infected. David, played by Scott Shepherd with such unnerving calm, is a figure of terror right from the opening scenes. He’s everything you don’t want in a leader: he’s a cannibal, a church-dressed manipulator, and, as we subsequently discover, a predator. His background as a teacher makes it all the more disturbing. As IGN puts it, “a cannibal pedophile, he is checking off all the things on a checklist written in Hell.” David is not introduced as yet another villain, however. His queasy interest in the cordyceps fungus—assuming that it suggests some kind of connection or “love”—adds a nauseating philosophical component. While Den of Geek calls his assumptions “a little silly and dismissible,” the idea could have been solid if it were given more room to breathe.
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.