In September 2015, Netflix announced that they’d ordered a third season of Black Mirror. That means I’ve been aching with excitement for over a year now. A personal favourite, Black Mirror remains one of the most original, genre-busting, expectation-defying shows I’ve ever seen. And it’s as important as it is terrifying.
For the uninitiated, Black Mirror is an anthology show – each episode tells a new story with different characters. It views more like a set of short films. They are thematically linked, however, by presenting worrying worlds that are only a few technological and societal steps from reality.
Conceived by Charlie Brooker, it provides a satirical look at how technology defines our existence. With elements of dark comedy and science fiction, each episode is unique, gripping, and disconcerting. It’s an absorbing experience that leaves you with a foul taste in your mouth. And it’s a taste that sticks around and poisons your senses for days on end with one ominous feeling: “This is where we’re headed.”
This review comes in two sections. This first page contains reviews of all three episodes of season two with no spoilers. On the next page, I’ll re-examine each episode and get into the nitty-gritty of what I took away from each story.
Be Right Back
In the show’s quietest episode yet, Domhnall Gleeson stars as social media-obsessed Ash, boyfriend of Martha (Hayley Atwell). When Ash suddenly dies in an accident, Martha uses a program that ploughs through and analyses all of Ash’s social media activity. It then mimics Ash’s personality as a bot for Martha to chat with, easing her grief.
It isn’t as in-your-face horrific as other episodes, but it’s certainly uncomfortable to watch. The deceptively peaceful opening contains plenty of nuggets that build to the payoff in the episode’s climax. Even a bit of dialogue about the true meaning of a childhood picture of Ash turns out to be fundamental to the underlying message.
It gives plenty of time and care to Martha’s battle with grief early in the episode. Atwell’s performance is heartbreaking and above all realistic. It’s impossible not to feel for her and understand her desperation. This empathy is crucial because talking to a dead person is something alien to most of us. But by the time she makes her decision we are sold on why someone would turn to such an outlet.
It reminds me of the film Her, in which a man falls in love with an AI. It asks us why his love is any less real than love for a person. Be Right Back, however, questions how healthy Martha’s outlet is. Okay, it feels incredibly creepy, but if it helps with her grief, how harmful can it really be? Well, these are the questions Black Mirror likes to throw at us. There’s also more going on in this episode which I can’t spoil, but it’s juicy and worth watching to uncover.
White Bear
In this post-apocalyptic rollercoaster, Lenora Crichlow stars as a woman who wakes up to a bottle of pills and the sound of TV static. She has no idea who or where she is. Minutes later, she’s being chased by a gunman through suburban streets while hordes of people film the pursuit on their phones.
If you blink during White Bear, you’ll miss it. Episode director Carl Tibbetts delivers some of the most fast-paced forty minutes of TV I’ve ever seen. From broken homes, through streets and abandoned petrol stations, into forests – the action never lets up for a second.
How it does it all without sacrificing emotion is nothing short of a miracle. Each revelation brings a sharp sting. And it’s carried by Crichlow’s shattering performance. Her helpless screams will echo in your mind long after the credits roll and the screen has turned black.
As a side note, Black Mirror is named for its dark reflection of our world. But also, Charlie Brooker says the name derives from the black, mirror-like screens of our smartphones and televisions. If you’re anything like me, after White Bear you’ll turn off your screen and stare at your reflection in horror for minutes after its gut-churning finale.
The Waldo Moment
After a controversy in the fictional constituency of Stentonford, Tory MP Liam Monroe (Tobias Menzies) runs for office in a by-election. Meanwhile, failed comedian Jamie is the voice of animated talking bear Waldo, who lures politicians onto his show under the guise of being a children’s TV mascot. In reality, Waldo is a crude prankster set on publically humiliating his guests. Waldo and Monroe clash when Waldo becomes a protest candidate for Stentonford.
It’s a contentious episode for many Black Mirror fans. Upon my first viewing, I declared it the show’s only negative entry. However, I changed my mind after a re-watch. It’s certainly required that you’re politically switched on to grasp its full scope and intent (which I wasn’t when it was first released).
It is one of the weaker episodes, though. I like what it says about trolling and our distraction culture – something much more relevant now in the wake of Donald Trump’s explosive success. But I’m not sure the ideas gel with the failed comedian protagonist. I fail to latch onto him or any of the characters because there’s more than necessary for the episode’s simple plot. In the end, it lacks the emotional smack that every other episode strikes you with.
There’s some heart there, though. As a friend of mine once said, he felt the episode was effective because it actually made him feel sorry for a Tory MP. I can’t argue with that. It might be my least favourite episode, but it isn’t bad by any means. It still has plenty of stuff to chew on afterwards.
Hopefully, I’ve given you a feel for what this show is about and what you can expect. It is an exceptional show brimming with ideas, but rarely does it sacrifice character or emotion to delve into them. It’s as artful as it is cerebral, resulting in one of the most unique TV experiences you’ll ever have. Go away and watch these episodes, then join me on the next page and we’ll get into the meat of them…
Magoo's Reviews 