This summer, we’ve had an epidemic
of shows about epidemics. Or more
accurately, we’ve had a few shows focusing on the need to combat or contend
with an existential health risk to the human race. There’s no question that an epidemic makes an
appealing setup for a show: it generates
plot and high stakes, and provides room both for episodic action and a larger
arc. But on its own, “public health
crisis” is a setup, not a story. Without
interesting characters, an epidemic is just a story about how everyone dies, or
doesn’t die, and we don’t care which one.
Without a central tension of some sort—a mystery, or conspiracy, or
antagonist, or personal struggle, or societal dynamic to explore—an epidemic is
merely an exercise in high stakes without drama. Just math, and heartless math at that.
Perhaps I’m overly sensitive because
right now, as we watch Ebola tear into West Africa, this trend hits particularly close to home. It’s tempting to say that we shouldn’t derive
entertainment from simulating human suffering, because TV inevitably tells a
happier, more sanitary, less painful version of suffering than real life ever
can. But TV needs to do that, and I’d
argue that it should: we need to hold in
our head the ideal that public health crises are solvable, that competent
people can make a difference, and that happiness is possible even in the face
of disaster. At its best, TV reminds us
of that, without making us forget how difficult the real situations actually
are. I’ve said this before about
procedurals: it’s very comforting to
believe that evil can be vanquished in 42 minutes. Likewise, it’s very comforting to believe that
humanity can survive a disaster, even if it emerges changed from the experience. And just as it’s tremendously interesting to
watch a nuanced portrayal of how people respond to criminal tragedy (as in The
Divide, which I’ll post a review of soon, or The Killing), it can be very
interesting to watch a nuanced portrayal of how people respond to
disaster. But for shows about epidemics
to feel worthwhile, they have to mean something.
This summer’s offerings vary pretty
wildly from each other in both approach and execution:
The
Last Ship (TNT, new.
Action/Drama)
Watched: first four episodes
Premise: Naval ship remains at sea trying to find a
cure to the global pandemic that’s killed most of humanity.
Promise: This book is a very liberal adaptation of the
1980s novel of the same name, using a global pandemic instead of a nuclear war
as its destructive backdrop. I watched a
few episodes because I really wanted to give it a chance. I generally love Rhona Mitra and the post-apocalyptic
setup has enormous potential. But after
four episodes, the only real conclusion I can come to is that it’s . . .
boring. It shouldn’t be, considering the
high stakes and the fact that the show has a huge secondary cast to play
with. But the show has chosen tone over both
story and character at every turn. The
tone is one of stoic heroism, which is on full display. All the time.
They are stoic in the face of explosions (oh, so many explosions). They are stoic through long, loving,
highly-detailed tableaus of naval ordnance (really, this show treats firing
torpedoes and machine guns like Baywatch treats running lifeguards).
They are stoic as they repeat orders to each other across the room in a
procedure that feels authentic, but chews up a lot of story time. They
are stoic to the point of bathos when they consider their loved ones back on
land. (Side note: when the XO learns that his son is dead, and
the Captain learns that his family is tenuously safe, and the show expects us
to feel the pain of the Captain, I
call shenanigans.)
And they are bravely stoic in the
face of cartoonish and (deeply, deeply) illogical choices, one after
another. That illogic is a real
problem. Over and over I found myself
asking why someone couldn’t have easily predicted and avoided or fixed whatever
the crisis of the moment was. Three
episodes in, for example, the villains angrily demand something they easily
could have obtained on their own in the first episode. And they keep threatening to destroy the one
thing they want. And I’d be willing to
overlook that sort of issue more if I cared about the characters, but it’s hard
to care about cardboard cutouts. Without
characters, the core of the story—the struggle to maintain food and fuel while
conducting medical research—isn’t boring, exactly, but the interesting part of
it is always going to be its impact on the characters, a set of people who have
discovered that they are alone and in danger, and there may not be any safe
space left in the world. That’s a compelling
idea. But if we don’t care about the
characters, then all the compelling ideas in the world just aren’t that
interesting to watch.
Verdict: Great, if you love naval ordnance and
explosions. But kind of boring if you
want compelling story and characters.
The
Strain (FX, new. Horror.)
Watched: First three episodes
Premise: The CDC faces an outbreak of vampirism.
Promise: The show is also an
adaptation, this time of Guillermo del Toro’s book of the same name. It’s an effective mashup of epidemic/contagion
and vampire/horror tropes, and the result is a good horror setup, albeit one
that’s not terribly deep, and is occasionally unnecessarily gross. Overall, the show feels like a SyFy show, and
it would fit quite well in the SyFy lineup.
It feels a bit too campy, and a bit too predictable, for FX. It has a lot of potential: the idea of the
CDC encountering and fighting something as far out of the medical mainstream as
vampirism is a wonderful start. But like
the previous show, it all depends on whether we care about the characters. Here, the characters are more interesting
than in The Last Ship, but they’re still cut from relatively standard molds,
and the show is much more concerned with what they do than who they are.
The show’s core theme—which we’re
reminded of, over and over, including in the opening voiceover—is the power of
love as a motivator. People will do
things for love that are contrary to the greater good. It’s not the most original theme in the
world, but it’s certainly a powerful one, and one might expect it to lead to
some real emotional depth. So it’s
particularly surprising that the show feels so emotionally sterile. The story somewhat mechanically pits the
characters’ individual concerns for their loved ones against the good of the
world. Unsurprisingly, the characters
are torn, and have to make close calls that end up informing the fate of
humanity. The result is that the
characters are mostly wrapped up in what look like selfish concerns in the face
of what we know to be an existential threat to humanity. Maybe that’s realistic—and maybe it’s even
insightful to recognize that that’s realistic.
But all of the choice-points seem trite (Child custody battle! Wife with cancer! Abuela facing
deportation!), so what could feel really engaging ends up feeling sort of
tired. Add to that the fact that the only
women on the show are, by and large, all foils for the lead, and I’ve lost interest.
Verdict: Totally serviceable and well-made horror, but
if I’m going to watch medicine confront questions raised by vampirism and the
forces of love, I think I’d rather watch the deep, difficult, personal
decisions of Shiki.
The
Lottery (Lifetime, new. SF Thriller.)
Watched: first five episodes
Premise: A global fertility
crisis threatens the future of humanity
Promise: This is a classic “change
one thing” SF setup: what would happen
if there were no more children? And it’s
well executed. The action starts several
years after the last handful of children on earth were born, when a group of
scientists engineer what appear to be viable embryos for the first time in
years. The government decides to hold a
lottery to determine whose wombs to implant the embryos in. As the scientists work to replicate their
success, they also confront a shady conspiracy that may have caused the global
fertility crisis, a fascistically overbearing government agency concerned with
controlling the future of reproduction, and the inevitable international
tension created by scarcity. The show weaves
its conspiracy thriller through a world shaped by this new medical reality—the gradual
end of educational institutions, the possibilities of comparatively risk-free
sex, and a creeping panic for the future of the human race.
At the center of the show are a number
of very competent people: a scientist, a
government official, a parent, etcetera.
Each is driven by strong ideologies, and for the most part they are all
powerfully well-meaning, although that means different things to each of
them. They disagree with each other, but
have to work with and around and sometimes against each other to accomplish
what they believe is right. It’s a dynamic that starts slow, but starts to
work well after a few episodes, as the mystery builds and the characters become
less isolated and more intertwined. But
for all the conspiracy, the show is at its best when it’s on the street, demonstrating
the diversity of opinion of the population—just like our world, everyone is
different and has different views about how things should work. When they interview women on the street about
why they are or aren’t deciding to put their names in the lottery, for example,
the show really does a great job of reflecting just how diverse people’s views
would be.
But perhaps the strongest statement
this show makes is that it’s on Lifetime Entertainment For Women. This is an effective thriller. Sure, it happens to be about
reproduction. It happens to have female
leads. But seriously, is it too much to
ask that a competent thriller with female leads might be Entertainment for
Everyone?
Verdict: Clunky in spots, but generally a well done
thriller that keeps the suspense coming.
On the
DVR/Unreviewed: Still lots of shows! Most of which I've watched at least some of, but reviews are still forthcoming... Dominion, Tyrant, The Leftovers, Finding Carter, The Almighty Johnsons, The Divide, Manhattan, The Knick, Outlander, Extant, and Legends.
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