Every Character in HBO's 'The Last of Us,' Ranked From Worst to Best

Image via HBO

Bethany deserved the 15 stitches that Ellie gave her. We hope they hurt. Next! —Kevin Wong

In the game, Robert was a cowardly weasel. In the show, Robert is a cowardly weasel. His main function, in both stories, is to establish how feared Tess and Joel are—how their reputation for viciousness and reciprocal bloodshed precedes them. In this world, your word and your follow-through are your bond. And Robert signed his death warrant by reneging on a fair deal. —Kevin Wong

James is David’s enabler. He knows he’s following a psychopath, but he’s broken and detached enough from his humanity to follow him over the cliff. Like Bethany, he’s another victim of Ellie’s resourcefulness, and he catches a butcher knife in the throat for his troubles. Good riddance. —Kevin Wong

We tend to ask ourselves when we watch shows like this one, “Would we rebel? Would we stand up for what’s right?” But that’s a vicarious power fantasy. The likelihood is that most of us, like Dr. Edelstein, wouldn’t make a decision based on a moral or ethical code. We would just side with whoever is winning at the time and pray that we don’t end up hung in the town square or dragged behind the army truck. Dr. Edelstein, by choosing a side, left his fate in the hands of others. And in the world of The Last of Us, that’s a dangerous gamble. —Kevin Wong

One of the best things about The Last of Us—and this is true for both the HBO show and the video game—is how the writers humanize even the smallest characters. In The Last of Us Part II video game, for example, the enemies grieve their friends’ deaths when you kill them. And in the HBO show, the writers made this one FEDRA guy a little bit more than his flak jacket and his gun. The fascist jackboots that run the QZ are not a cartoonish, cackling evil; they are a banal evil, where everyone is “just following orders,” and one can easily imagine a young man—with hopes, dreams, and an inner life—conspiring with the local mercenaries to head out west. Joel, of course, caves his head in and puts an end to all that. It’s an emotional decision, not a logical one. And it shows the extent of Joel’s trauma: that he’s willing to kill a man, whom he’s presumably known for years, to protect an infected girl he’s known for mere hours. —Kevin Wong

As Kathleen’s right-hand man—the muscle and intimidation behind her quiet approach—Perry has a tough job. He knows the bloaters are about to explode out of the ground. He knows Kathleen’s not in her right mind, that her selfish decisions will lead her men and women to catastrophe. But he’s been a grunt—a follower—for so long, that he lacks the tools to convince her otherwise. He only cautions Kathleen about what should be done, rather than declaring, in front of God and everyone, what needs to be done. Kathleen bears the most blame for the carnage at the end of Episode 5. But Perry enabled her, when he was best positioned to stop the carnage in the first place. —Kevin Wong

The head of the military school in the Boston QZ, Captain Kwong is a best-case scenario—an empathetic man in a position of power who clearly cares for the young people in his charge. He believes, truly believes, in the righteous importance of his role; that without the military locking everything down, chaos would rule and people would die. 

He presents Ellie with a fallacious choice. Who would rather shovel shit than order people to do it for them? He means well, but he is ultimately part of a system that has no accountability. It might not be that the system needs a benevolent ruler; it might be that the system itself is irreparable. —Kevin Wong

The best thing about Kathleen is the cognitive dissonance of her presentation. She’s got this folksy “you betcha!” Midwestern aura, but she’s motivated by hatred and vengefulness. It overshadows all other concerns, including her personal safety. Even her brother, before his execution, told her not to seek retribution for his death. And yet, there’s a moment at the end of Episode 5 when Kathleen is surrounded by Infected, with no place to escape, and she’s still trying to kill Henry. She got everyone killed for her petty revenge, but she’s sticking to it. She’s dying, but she’s taking him down with her. 

People making terrible decisions for sympathetic reasons is this show’s running motif. Kathleen embodies that better than anyone. —Kevin Wong

Just in case Ellie forgot that Joel is not a good man and has done some objectively evil things, here comes Maria, the leader of the Jackson community and Tommy’s wife, to give her (and us) a sobering reminder. Maria’s maternal instincts kick in; she feels it’s her responsibility to warn this precocious girl to be wary of who she trusts. And even though she knows that Tommy is a devoted, loyal man, she also knows that Joel holds sway. Life debts are hard to repay, and the guilt lasts forever. —Kevin Wong

As a member of the Fireflies revolutionary movement, Marlene operates exclusively with her back against the wall as she works to take down FEDRA’s oppression. Still, she inspires dozens around her—notably Joel’s brother Tommy—to her cause. The living embodiment of the group’s motto, “When you are lost in the darkness, follow the light,” Marlene is optimistic about humanity and its chances (especially once she discovers Ellie), a rarity in a world so bleak as this. —William Goodman

Marlon is one half of the elderly Native couple that Joel and Ellie interrogate for information about Tommy. Marlon pretty much laughs in their faces. He’s not afraid of them, and he’s comfortable enough to shit-talk them and spar with his wife, while held at gunpoint. By the end of it all, Joel looks a little embarrassed and rightfully so. —Kevin Wong

In the final episode of The Last of Us, during an opening flashback scene, we meet Ellie’s mother Anna, who died shortly after giving birth. Like mother, like daughter; Anna is an absolute badass. We find out that Ellie’s birth occurred under the worst possible conditions; Anna fought off a Stalker, while in labor, in order to bring her daughter into the world. Ashley Johnson, who played Ellie in the game, plays Anna in the TV show. We feel her love for Ellie; no one knows that character better than her. —Kevin Wong

At the end of the day, we’re all looking for a place to belong, which is why Tommy, Joel’s brother, makes for such a compelling character. We spend a lot of time throughout The Last of Us hearing about Tommy’s past without seeing the man himself, but once Joel and Ellie make it to Jackson, we see just how radically improved Tommy’s life is now that he’s found a larger community. That search for connection eventually leads him to Maria as well and allows Tommy to move forward in a way that Joel isn’t quite capable of doing yet. Throughout it all, Tommy remains dedicated and dutiful—a stalwart example of intentionality. —William Goodman

Sam is a counterpart to Ellie. He is the only child younger than her whom she interacts with, and he brings out her immature side, which she’s had to bury for the sake of survival. Sam is Henry’s entire reason for surviving and pressing on; he’s his only family left in the world, and because of that, Henry has to be a father, a brother, and a friend, sometimes simultaneously. Sam’s deafness (new to the show) highlights his vulnerability. It’s unfortunate that in both renditions, we don’t learn much about Sam beyond his function to the plot. But he’s essential for what he reveals about other characters. He is the future that Joel and Ellie are fighting for. And like Ellie learns the hard way, it’s not that easy. —Kevin Wong

What makes Henry—the older of the two brothers Joel and Ellie come across in Kansas City—such a richly drawn character is how empathic he and his circumstances are. Henry is both caretaker and protector, forced to grow up much faster than he ever intended as he does whatever possible to ensure the survival of Sam. What strikes me about Henry is how he views himself in such stark contrast; in a world that’s all just shades of gray, he’s unwilling to cut himself any slack for ratting out Kathleen’s brother and feels himself a villain. Yet in the time we spend with Henry, that’s far from the case and makes his tragic end all the more somber. —William Goodman

The Last of Us is a morally murky show. There are no “bad guys” and “good guys”—just a lot of desperate people struggling to survive. But then you meet David, and he’s a reminder that yes, there is true evil in the world, and there are monsters worse than the Clickers and Bloaters roaming the countryside. 

A Clicker’s ferocity is impersonal, but David is a true sadist—someone who enjoys and gets off on causing pain, suffering, and humiliation. His cannibalism is actually one of his more sympathetic qualities, borne of necessity. It’s his grooming of Ellie, his sexual predation, and his religious hypocrisy that make him beyond redemption. He’s only in the show for one episode. But he causes incalculable damage to Ellie’s psyche in that short period of time. And if we’re ranking these characters on their impact, he’s pretty high up.  —Kevin Wong

As skilled and tenacious as Joel is, his skill set pales compared to Tess’ prowess. While we only get a limited amount of screentime with her, the moments we spend with Tess prove her to be deftly capable, confident, and aware of the games that must be played to survive in this world. She’s also, until Ellie breaks through, the only thing that manages to keep Joel from going off the deep end. Even if he doesn’t have a full understanding of their relationship, it’s clear they mean a great deal to one another. And in a world full of such hardships, there’s something to be said for Tess deciding to take ownership of how her story ends. —William Goodman

There aren’t many happy endings to be found in The Last of Us. But Bill, of all people, has the closest thing to one. He’s the one human in this world who debatably improved his life, thanks to the global pandemic that infected and killed billions. He was an antisocial loner who stockpiled weapons in his basement. Then he found, to his delight, that his paranoia was justified. The shot of him happily eating dinner by himself, surrounded by deadly traps, is darkly ironic. Who’s laughing now?

But then, he finds true happiness. He meets Frank, whom he never would have met if not for apocalyptic happenstance and he finds his purpose in life beyond day-to-day survival. He’s a protector who has to protect. And he protects that man, faithfully and devotedly, until the very end. It’s a beautiful love story, with valuable insights on how to properly love someone. One would hope that Joel learns the right lessons. —Kevin Wong

Of all the characters who transitioned from the video game to the TV show, Sarah benefited the most. In the game, she was personable and lovable for the limited amount of time she was onscreen. But there’s only so much you can do within those constraints—just the broad strokes of a character, suggestive of who she was. It’s up to the reader to fill in and likely project the rest of it. But in the HBO show, Sarah is fully formed. We get a full episode that fleshes out her importance; we follow her around for an entire day, seeing her being warm, thoughtful, innocent, and kind, so that when tragedy does strike, it’s impactful. And despite her absence, she hangs over the rest of the episodes like a ghost, a cautionary tale about the dangers of loving someone completely in a cruel, cruel world. —Kevin Wong

The Last of Us’ story is just as much Ellie’s as it is Joel’s, but the precocious teen is the engine behind the plot. Sometimes characters in the Lone Wolf and Cub trope are thinly sketched or more of a burden, but that’s never the case with Ellie, who is assertive and sure of herself from the moment Joel and the audience cross paths with her in the premiere episode. Not only that but Ellie also remains the source of levity and light in the series, softening the dark edges of the story accordingly. The Last of Us contains many trappings of typical post-apocalyptic storytelling, but the one thing those stories don’t feature is a character as bold, brave, and real as Ellie. —William Goodman

There’s a quote from Frank Miller’s Sin City: A Dame to Kill For that has always stayed with me: “There’s nothing wrong with Marv, nothing at all—except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He’d have been OK if he’d been born a couple of thousand years ago. He’d be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an axe into somebody’s face. Or in a Roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him.”

I’ve never wanted to be tested, to find out if I belonged to the era I was born into. But Joel found out the hard way. In his former life, he was a contractor. Not the best contractor in the world, and is not at the peak of his profession. Just an average Joe, a standard-issue contractor from Texas. Then, the global cordyceps pandemic hit. And Joel discovered, to his horror and everyone else’s, that he was exceptionally good at killing people. And because he had no moral anchor (and after Sarah’s death, no longer had a reason not to), he honed that ability for 20 years—doing terrible, evil things—until he met a young girl who reminded him of his humanity and prickled his vulnerabilities.

How far will he go for someone he loves? What is he willing to sacrifice to keep that love beside him? His life? Humanity itself? We’re told to fear a man with nothing to lose. In The Last of Us, we learn to fear a man with only one thing remaining. —Kevin Wong

Wonderfully rendered by Murray Bartlett, what makes Frank such a strong character is how he conveys hope. Despite the desperate conditions of this new world, Frank believes in the ability of people to be the best versions of themselves: to live, flourish, and still find beauty in a beastly place. Frank serves as a reminder of the humanity lost and what Joel and Ellie can hope to find in the future if they succeed on their journey. —William Goodman