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On paper, I fit the fanboy bill. I’ve decreed my love of The Last of Us to not only my gaming friends, but to my parents, wife, and kids, all of whom I’m sure are dying to hear my thoughts on the sequel. I’ve played through the game twice on each of the last two generations of PlayStations. I even dabbled in the vastly underrated multiplayer despite my failed campaign to recruit my friends. 

This proves that 1) I need new friends, and 2) I’m a devoted disciple of Naughty Dog’s tale of Joel, Ellie, and Friends. 

So then, here’s the short version: The Last of Us Part II is the most disappointing masterpiece I’ve ever played. 

Up-front trigger warnings make me dubious. They often read like attorney-mandated ass coverage instead of any actual effort at sensitivity. I tend to mentally translate them into the most sarcastic, least considerate reading I can imagine. Thus in my brain, the one preceding Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice goes like this:

This game has crazy people, so FYI if you’re a crazy person or if crazy people make you sad. Also check out our website. Because hellbladehelp.info is totally what you’d visit to learn about mental illness.”

I mean come on. As disclaimers go, it’s not even comprehensive. What if Hell makes you sad? Or blades make you sad?