The newest chapter of the Uncharted series, The Lost Legacy, should make you want to throw out every game in the franchise before it.

Calling Lost Legacy a promising next step for the series in a post-Nathan Drake world doesn't do it justice. In fact, it’s practically an insult. The comparison diminishes what the game uniquely accomplishes, which is far more than anything Nathan Drake ever did.

While undoubtedly popular and beloved, until now the Uncharted series did little to innovate beyond perfecting the wall-scaling, linear action-adventure game formula. Each new game in the franchise came across as essentially a prettier version of “more of the same.”

Sure, the games before Lost Legacy were all well-made interactive iterations of action films set in the tradition of James Bond. But they're mediocre action plots (at best) when compared to their cinematic inspirations. All in all, they fail to justify their existence as video games.

Lost Legacy, on the other hand, allows players to inhabit the world of protagonist Chloe Frazer as she reckons with her own multicultural identity and history as a half-Indian treasure hunter seeking the lost Tusk of Ganesha.

It's one of the rare instances when a video game franchise might actually have something to teach the action movies it aspires towards, rather than chasing down the dream of being a pretty good imitation of them.

I could waste your time informing you that, no, Naughty Dog did not completely revamp its tried and true, decade-old gameplay for Uncharted during this title's brief, year-long development . Mechanically, you'll find nothing new here. That didn’t seem to stop many from enjoying Uncharted 4, though.

In every other respect, particularly on a narrative scale (which is the studio's bread and butter), Lost Legacy improves on what now feels like a first draft of what Uncharted can be.

Lost Legacy improves on what now feels like a first draft of what Uncharted can be.

Nathan's story — as he went around visiting (and often destroying) various sacred sites in an effort to trace his lineage to an English explorer — plagued Uncharted with an unavoidable undercurrent of colonialism.

And it told a far less powerful story because of it.

Uncharted: The Lost Legacy Image: naughty dog, sony

In almost all his adventures, Nathan's personal stakes feel dwarfed by the grandiosity of the cultural histories he tramples over like a crumbling ledge on his self-aggrandizing reach for legacy.

Meanwhile, Lost Legacy shows how a story improves when a protagonist's ancestral inheritance and familial history are tied to the actual culture they are fighting to uncover.

The game opens on the city streets of the Western Ghats of India as it’s being torn apart and brought to the brink of civil war. From the start, Chloe is racing against an antagonist named Asav, leader of the rebel faction not only inciting the violence, but also funding the terror campaign by selling his own country's artifacts.

And that's just Lost Legacy's synopsis.

(I hope Nathan Drake and his adorable quest to find his great, great, great, great, great granddaddy's pirate treasure is feeling small and insignificant by comparison already.)

Tellingly, the worst part of Lost Legacy is the beginning, when Chloe insists this isn't her war, that she's just in it for the money, and not interested in fighting against the erasure of her ancestral culture and annihilation of its people.

The minute she drops these blasé (dare I say Drake-esque) pretenses, the real story takes off.

Uncharted stops being just more of the same rote, boring, well-trodden genre tropes.

Suddenly, like magic, Uncharted stops being just more of the same rote, boring, well-trodden genre tropes. Instead, it starts revealing itself to be an over-the-top action adventure — fueled by a distinct exploration of the human condition at its core.

Chloe Frazer is not merely hunting down the Tusk of Ganesha as a stepping stone to claiming the personal glory of being the descendent of a famous (imperializing) ancestor. Instead, she’s killing countless men to get her hands on the artifacts and lore she bares an intimate connection to.

And boy, it makes a lot more sense.

She puts her love for the Indian mythology and history to use in order to retrieve the Tusk. Narrating every fascinating detail to her companion — the mercenary leader antagonist of Uncharted 4, Nadine Ross — the background information on the environments feels like it actually matters (another first for the Uncharted series).

As they explore the underground battlegrounds and relics of the Hoysala empire, Chloe discovers hidden meaning in the artifacts, shinning a new light on the entire society. It's a message from the people of her past, essentially — one that history almost forgot.

With each step diving her deeper into the Indian jungle, it becomes clear that Chloe cares deeply for the very soil underneath her feet, no matter how much she denies its gravitational pull.

Her journey raises the emotional stakes in a way Nathan Drake’s could only dream of doing.

Her journey raises the emotional stakes in a way Nathan Drake’s could only dream of doing.

Instead of Nathan's ego-driven concept of legacy, Lost Legacy centers around Chloe coming to terms with her own internal struggle to repress a part of herself she tried burying a long time ago.

Meanwhile, the male camaraderie we've seen countless times in the action genre (both through games and movies) is quite literally scuttled to the side in this story. Instead, Lost Legacy reaps new life from the natural friendship that develops between the two women. You can't help but relate to them as they struggle to let go of their hardened exteriors, lack of trust in the world, and — against every instinct — care for each other.

Unfortunately, as critic Caty McCarthy points out , the authenticity of Lost Legacy's Indian narrative does suffer from the fact that its two lead female characters of color are voiced by white women.

Uncharted: The Lost Legacy Image: NAUGHTY DOG, SONY

At the very least, it’s obvious Naughty Dog thoroughly did its research on the setting. And the proof of concept is still there: That a video game series based on the conceit of making ancient history feel personal benefits greatly from expanding its scope to include the ethnicities and cultures that actually built that history.

In fact, by delivering on this promise, Naughty Dog tells its most universal Uncharted story yet.

Naughty Dog tells its most universal Uncharted story yet.

As with any game, there are things that can be nitpicked about Lost Legacy. When a studio braves truly uncharted territory, it is bound to make mistakes as it works to evolve beyond what it already knew how to do.

At times, the dialogue can feel ham-fisted in its portrayal of feminine power. Yet, I found it difficult to get angry about. A) Because inhabiting two graceful, yet dangerously formidable female bodies as they take turns beating an egomaniac like Asav to a pulp never stops feeling fucking amazing. And B) No one faulted Nathan Drake for a lack of subtlety in his overly ham-fisted power fantasies.

However, Lost Legacy does appear to get in its own way with what I can only describe as its "women be shoppin'" moments.

Chloe is given a pink cell phone, replacing Drake's journal. She uses it to take pictures like a tourist, even posing next to some native wildlife as Nadine directs her. You can win a #NoFilter trophy for snapping enough of these pics.

Yeah... #No.

The problem here isn't necessarily the idea of these more feminine, social media-savvy touches to her story. That all made sense for Ellie in her comparable narrative with Riley in The Last of Us’ DLC, Left Behind. But Ellie is also a teenager.

Nadine and Chloe are professional, grown ass career thieves. Would they really bother snapping one for the 'gram?

But by and large, Lost Legacy manages to be something no Uncharted game has ever been: more than mere imitation.

In a genre almost exclusively dominated by (usually white) male perspectives, power fantasies, and relationships, it looks like it’s time for films to take a page out of a video game's book. Namely, to try and think outside that white male box. You might surprise yourself by producing marvels like the recently released Atomic Blonde or Mad Max: Fury Road.

Better yet, you might learn that the only thing you lose by whitewashing Hollywood and history is the chance to tell compelling stories that many audiences haven't seen before.

For Lost Legacy, anyway, it’s in the name itself.

The stories of the people and cultures who built the ancient ruins we too often use for the sake of an exotic backdrop have value in and of themselves. They have stories to tell, too.

And when we create franchises that forget about their legacies, we all lose.