In the ever-evolving landscape of television, few shows have captured the cultural zeitgeist like HBO’s The Last of Us. The first season, which aired in 2023, was a triumph, blending gritty post-apocalyptic storytelling with emotional depth, earning critical acclaim and a devoted fanbase. Adapted from the beloved 2013 video game by Naughty Dog, the series followed Joel, a hardened smuggler, and Ellie, a teenage girl, as they navigated a world ravaged by a fungal infection. Its success was universal, appealing to gamers, critics, and casual viewers alike. However, the highly anticipated second season, which premiered in early 2025, has stumbled dramatically, with cable ratings taking a nosedive. The catalyst? The controversial death of Joel, a fan-favorite character, which has alienated a significant portion of the audience—particularly older viewers, often referred to as “boomers.” This ratings crash has ignited fierce debates about storytelling risks, audience expectations, and the challenges of adapting a polarizing game sequel. What went wrong, and can The Last of Us recover?

The roots of this debacle lie in the source material. Season 2 of The Last of Us draws heavily from The Last of Us Part II, the 2020 video game sequel that divided fans with its bold narrative choices. Without delving into spoilers for those yet to watch, it’s safe to say that Joel’s fate, a pivotal moment early in the game, was a gut-punch for players. The decision to carry this plot point into the show was always going to be risky. Season 1 had already established Pedro Pascal’s Joel as the heart of the series, his gruff exterior masking a deep paternal bond with Bella Ramsey’s Ellie. Their chemistry was a cornerstone of the show’s success, resonating with viewers across generations. For boomers, many of whom tuned in for Pascal’s relatable everyman quality, Joel was a touchstone—a flawed but heroic figure in a chaotic world. His death, executed with the same unflinching brutality as in the game, was a bridge too far for this demographic.

Ratings data paints a stark picture. According to industry reports circulating online, Season 2’s premiere drew significantly fewer viewers than Season 1’s debut, with a sharp drop-off in subsequent episodes. While streaming numbers on Max remain strong among younger audiences, cable viewership—where older viewers dominate—has cratered. Social media platforms like X are ablaze with reactions, with posts lamenting Joel’s exit and accusing showrunners Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann of betraying the fanbase. Hashtags like #JusticeForJoel and #LastOfUsFlop trend regularly, reflecting a sentiment that the show prioritized shock value over character integrity. Boomers, in particular, have voiced frustration, with some calling the death “gratuitous” and others declaring they’re done with the series altogether. This generational divide highlights a broader challenge: how do you adapt a story that alienates part of your audience while staying true to its vision?

To unpack this, let’s consider the context of The Last of Us as both a game and a show. The original game was a narrative masterpiece, praised for its emotional weight and moral ambiguity. Its sequel, however, took risks that polarized players. Part II shifted focus to themes of revenge, grief, and moral complexity, introducing new characters like Abby, played in the show by Kaitlyn Dever, whose role ties directly to Joel’s fate. While the game earned accolades for its ambition, it faced backlash from fans who felt it disrespected Joel and Ellie’s legacy. The show’s creators, aware of this divide, faced a daunting task: translate a controversial story to a broader TV audience while maintaining the gritty authenticity that defined Season 1. They chose fidelity to the game, a decision that preserved the story’s integrity but underestimated the emotional attachment viewers—especially older ones—had to Joel.

Boomers’ walkout isn’t just about Joel’s death; it’s about what he represented. For many in this demographic, Joel was a relatable figure—a middle-aged man grappling with loss, responsibility, and redemption. His bond with Ellie mirrored real-world parent-child dynamics, resonating with viewers who saw themselves in his protective instincts. Removing him so abruptly felt like a betrayal, especially for those less familiar with the game’s plot. Younger viewers, particularly Gen Z and millennials, appear more open to the show’s darker turn, perhaps because they’re accustomed to the game’s narrative or more receptive to its themes of cyclical violence. This generational split is evident online, where younger fans defend the show’s boldness, arguing that Joel’s death sets up a deeper exploration of Ellie’s journey. Yet for boomers, the loss is personal, and the show’s refusal to soften the blow has driven them away.

The production itself hasn’t helped matters. Season 2 faced challenges, including delays due to the 2023 writers’ and actors’ strikes, which pushed its release to 2025. Behind-the-scenes reports suggest creative tensions over how to handle Joel’s arc, with some advocating for a softer approach to ease viewers into the loss. Ultimately, Mazin and Druckmann doubled down on the game’s vision, believing that staying true to Part II would pay off artistically. The season’s shorter episode count—seven episodes compared to Season 1’s nine—has also drawn criticism, with fans arguing there’s insufficient time to process Joel’s death before the story pivots to new characters. Visually, the show remains stunning, with haunting depictions of a ruined Seattle and stellar performances from Ramsey and Dever. But for many, the emotional void left by Joel overshadows these strengths.

The fallout raises questions about the risks of adapting divisive source material. Unlike Game of Thrones, which infamously deviated from its books to disastrous effect, The Last of Us has stayed faithful to its game. Yet this fidelity may be its Achilles’ heel. TV audiences, especially on cable, expect a different pacing and emotional payoff than gamers. Boomers, who make up a significant chunk of HBO’s traditional viewership, aren’t as immersed in gaming culture, where shock deaths are par for the course. The show’s marketing, which teased Joel and Ellie’s continued journey without hinting at the tragedy, may have also set false expectations. Trailers heavily featured Pascal, leading some to believe he’d remain central, only to feel blindsided by the premiere’s twist.

Can The Last of Us recover? The show still has strengths to leverage. Bella Ramsey’s Ellie is a powerhouse, carrying the season’s emotional weight with raw intensity. New characters, including Dina (Isabela Merced) and Jesse (Young Mazino), add fresh dynamics, while the show’s exploration of grief and retribution is compelling for those who stick around. HBO’s track record with prestige dramas suggests they won’t abandon the series, and a third season, likely adapting the yet-to-be-released The Last of Us Part III, is already in discussion. However, winning back boomers will be tough. The show could pivot by emphasizing Ellie’s growth or introducing flashbacks to soften Joel’s absence, but altering the game’s trajectory risks alienating gamers who championed Part II’s risks.

This ratings crash also reflects broader trends in TV. Cable viewership is declining as streaming dominates, and older audiences are less tolerant of shows that challenge their emotional investment. The Last of Us isn’t alone—other HBO series, like Succession and House of the Dragon, have faced similar generational divides over bold plot choices. The industry is at a crossroads, balancing the demands of loyal fans with the need to attract new viewers in a fragmented market. For The Last of Us, the challenge is particularly acute, as it bridges gaming and TV audiences with wildly different expectations.

As Season 2 unfolds, the discourse shows no signs of slowing. On X, fans and detractors trade barbs, with memes of Joel’s fate flooding feeds alongside impassioned defenses of the show’s vision. The controversy has even sparked think pieces about the ethics of killing off beloved characters, with some arguing it’s a necessary evil to push storytelling forward. For now, The Last of Us remains a lightning rod, its ratings crash a testament to the high stakes of adapting a cultural phenomenon. Whether it can regain its footing depends on its ability to honor Joel’s legacy while convincing viewers—boomers included—that Ellie’s story is worth following. One thing’s certain: this TV disaster has everyone talking, and the fallout is far from over.