Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers ahead for KPop Demon Hunters.
I know absolutely nothing about K-pop. The last (and probably only) K-pop song I listened to was Psy’s Gangnam Style when that was all over the airwaves – which is more than a decade ago at this point! Gosh, I’m old. In fact, is Gangnam Style even K-pop? I think we’re off-topic already! The point is: I know nothing about this style of music, I don’t follow K-pop, I don’t listen to it, and while I’ve been dimly aware of Korean music’s popularity in the west… it’s just never been something I felt the need to look into.
So… why watch KPop Demon Hunters, then? It’s a film that uses the world of K-pop as its foundation, blending that in with Korean legends and some of the trappings of anime – another entertainment genre I have absolutely no experience with! It’s simple, really: I love a good animated film, and Netflix has been a fantastic destination for animation in recent years. KPop Demon Hunters has quickly acquired a great reputation, so I thought I’d give it a watch during one of the months where I’m paying for Netflix. And you know what? I had a whale of a time.
Concept art of Huntr/x (left) and a selection of demons.
KPop Demon Hunters took what could’ve been a basic black-and-white, good-versus-evil story and shook it up, weaving a much more complex and nuanced tale than similar kids’ films. The unexpected connection between the main protagonist and the demon world, and the complex relationship she built with one of the primary antagonists, were a big part of what made the story work. There was genuine depth to these two characters, and that kept what could’ve otherwise been a silly and outlandish film feeling genuinely grounded. It wasn’t perfect, and there were some weaknesses with the way the other characters were set up, but when the film found its feet, it did a fantastic job getting me invested in its world.
The story was epic in scope, but also small and personal – and it’s the latter side that really made the film so enjoyable to watch. Anyone can write a story about the end of the world, but if there’s no one in that world to care about… it kind of doesn’t matter. KPop Demon Hunters gave me characters to feel for when they were in danger, when their secrets were about to be exposed, and that really elevated the film to be something a lot more special.
Jinu and Rumi.
The story also had important messages, at least some of which I hope will resonate with its younger intended audience. Not judging people because of where they come from, and not falling back on hatred, are timeless – but unfortunately also very timely – things that we all need to be reminded of, sometimes. It can be fun to go on the attack and to try to tear someone down, but at the same time, that isn’t always the right answer.
Then there’s the idea of shame and covering up some part of oneself. We got this through the visual effect of Rumi’s demonic skin patterns, which I think you can read as an analogy for scars, skin conditions, and so on, but also in a more metaphorical sense for the concept of shame in general. Shame leads people to make poor choices, lying to loved ones, and retreating inwards… those are just part of what the film wanted to say.
Rumi with her patterns.
I felt KPop Demon Hunters had some wonderful animation and creative designs. The demons – which I assume are inspired by depictions of demonic entities in Korean culture – looked great; obviously otherworldly and spooky without being out-and-out frightening for the film’s younger viewers. And the designs of the characters in the two bands were great, too, drawing on both real-world K-pop bands and anime for inspiration. Some of the overly exaggerated anime-inspired facial expressions weren’t exactly “my thing,” but in the context of the film I think they worked well enough.
I loved the cute tiger and bird pair. Their designs were weird in one way, and certainly not of this world, but at the same time, I felt they were adorable! The multi-eyed bird with its cute little hat, and the chubby blue tiger just made for such a fun duo. The scene of Rumi riding the tiger was sweet, too. Again, I assume these entities are inspired by Korean folklore, and I think they were a lot of fun. If there’s not merchandise of both already, well… Netflix better get on top of that!
I need a tiger teddy!
I spent a little while looking into this, because I would’ve sworn that KPop Demon Hunters was deliberately using a “stop-motion” effect with its animation. But it seems as if that wasn’t a deliberate choice; rather the film is animated at a relatively slow 12 frames-per-second, resulting in what felt like a bit of a choppy effect – at least on my screen. I didn’t hate it; I actually quite like stop-motion films, and it gave KPop Demon Hunters its own kind of charm. But some of the ultra-fast dance and fight sequences definitely had that choppy look as a result. I’ve seen people online claim this was a “stylistic choice,” but there’s nothing official on that as far as I can tell. I haven’t seen Sony’s SpiderMan: Into The Spider-Verse, but apparently the same kind of visual style is on display in that film, too.
The film makes wonderful use of colour. Gold and blue were framed as the positive, earthly, or “good” colours, where pink – in various shades – seemed to be more connected with Gwi-Ma and the demons. The climax of the story showed many characters bathed in a deep pink glow, and it was genuinely unsettling. At various stages in KPop Demon Hunters, colours really popped, and the film has an overall bright and fun look.
The colour pink was used for the demonic entities.
If the central pair of Rumi and Jinu felt well-developed and real, some of the other main characters… didn’t quite reach the same level. Both Mira and Zoey got a few seconds’ of “backstory,” which was explained incredibly quickly by random characters right at the start of the film. At first I felt sure that this would be fine, but when their personal histories and issues actually mattered at the climax of the story… I felt we could’ve got a bit more than just a couple of hand-wavy lines of dialogue and half a line each in song form to explain who they were, why they might’ve felt they way they did, and where their exploitable vulnerabilities came from.
The same was true of the band’s leader, Celine – though we did get a bit more from her later on in the film. And the rest of the demons, aside from Jinu, didn’t really get much screen time. The demons’ king – Gwi-Ma – got plenty of time on screen, but his plan seemed to be “I’m evil and I want to eat everyone’s souls, mwahahaha,” without really much else going on. There’s absolutely a role in fiction for pure baddies, and Gwi-Ma made for a fine antagonist here. But I would’ve liked to have seen more from some of the other demons; was Jinu really the only one with a history?
A gaggle of demons. Was Jinu really the only one who’d been manipulated?
Jinu’s story at least implies that some other demons in Gwi-Ma’s domain are similarly victims of exploitation, doesn’t it? Maybe his fellow demon boy-band popstars were 100% committed to the evil team… but were all of the other demons? Some of them, in their brief moments on screen in Gwi-Ma’s realm, felt almost human-like with their emotions and reactions to what was going on… and if there was some way to free them from their suffering instead of trapping them with it forever… well, wasn’t that part of what Rumi learned over the course of her interactions with Jinu?
I guess that raises implications for the film’s final act! If the story wanted to say something like “some of these demons are victims of Gwi-Ma’s manipulation, which you’ve just seen first-hand,” then is trapping all of them in the underworld the right thing to do? Jinu’s soul may have been saved by his interactions with Rumi, but what about the rest of them? I’m not trying to come across as “pro-demon” here, and I could be getting the wrong end of the stick. But it felt to me as if the film kind of tripped over the corner of its own story just a little.
Huntr/x at the climax of the film.
Let’s talk songs!
I really enjoyed Golden; that track has been playing on repeat since I watched KPop Demon Hunters. Soda Pop was a perfectly catchy pop song that worked really well given its prominent role in the story. Takedown came with an important message about judgement – but it’s also a badass song in its own right. How It’s Done was also a fantastically upbeat track. And I liked Your Idol, too. Does that mean I’m a K-pop fan now? Well… who can say! But I know that KPop Demon Hunters had a really fun, up-tempo, and enjoyable soundtrack, perfect for this kind of musical.
It was inevitable that a film about battling bands was gonna have some good songs, but I admit I was surprised at just how powerful and emotional tracks like Free and Golden actually were. There’s some great songwriting and composition on display here.
I’ve been listening to Golden on repeat!
So I think that about wraps things up. KPop Demon Hunters hadn’t been on my radar at all, but it was a surprisingly fun film that will absolutely be in contention for my “animated film of the year” award come December! Netflix scooped the prize last year with Spellbound, so it’s definitely possible that KPop Demon Hunters can keep the streak going! Netflix is definitely becoming a go-to place for animated films like this, which is wonderful to see.
I thoroughly recommend KPop Demon Hunters. It was a fun introduction to the world of K-pop, a world I’m totally unfamiliar with. It had a strong story centred around two engaging characters, plenty of laugh-out-loud moments, and a fantastic soundtrack to boot. It’s also a bit of a change in tone from the last film I reviewed (28 Years Later)! There’s talk of a sequel, and while I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a story that’s desperately asking for a follow-up, in 2025 almost every successful film ends up being spun off into a franchise, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more to come from Zoey, Mira, and Rumi. Watch this space, I guess!
KPop Demon Hunters is available to stream now on Netflix. KPop Demon Hunters is the copyright of Netflix and/or Sony Pictures Animation. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Spoiler Warning: Beware minor spoilers for some of the entries on this list.
You’ve made it to the halfway point! That’s right: by my reckoning, the end of June marks the halfway point of the year, which I think makes it a great moment to look ahead and think about some of the entertainment experiences that await us. This piece isn’t for dishing out made-up awards and trophies; that’ll come at the end of December! No, what we’re gonna do today is take a look at five films, five games, and five TV programmes that are scheduled to arrive between now and New Year’s Eve.
Has the first half of this year gone by quickly? I think it’s a bit of a cliché to complain about the passage of time, but it really doesn’t seem like it’s been six months since I was taking down the Christmas tree! And yes, we’ll be thinking about Christmas again before you know it.
I’m already thinking about it…
But until then, we’ve got a summer and an autumn to get through – with plenty of interesting-looking entertainment experiences lying ahead. As I said, I’ve picked five films, five games, and five TV shows that I think could be fun as the second half of 2025 gets underway.
As always, I have a couple of caveats. Firstly, this list is just one person’s subjective opinion, so if I recommend a production you don’t care for or miss something that you think should’ve been obvious… that’s okay! There are plenty of things to be excited for this year, and we won’t always agree on which ones look best! Secondly, all titles below are on the schedule for 2025 at time of writing, but with everything going on in the world, some or even all of them might miss their intended release dates. Finally, I’ve grouped the list into three categories, but the individual productions are listed randomly, not ranked in order of what I’m most keen on!
With all of that out of the way, let’s dive into the list.
Film #1: Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere
Biopics of musicians have been all the rage in recent years. After Bob Dylan, Elton John, Elvis Presley, and other performers have had their lives dramatised… in 2025 it’s the turn of Bruce Springsteen. I’m a pretty big Springsteen fan; his folk album We Shall Overcome (The Seeger Sessions) is one of my absolute favourite albums, though of course he’s better-known for his rock stuff!
Deliver Me From Nowhere is set during the creation of Springsteen’s 1982 album Nebraska – the album that spawned Atlantic City. I think it has the potential to be an interesting re-telling of an important chapter in the singer’s life, as well as an entertaining film to boot. If nothing else, it’s gonna have a great soundtrack!
Film #2: I Know What You Did Last Summer
Do we call this a sequel? A remake? A squemake? Whatever it is, I’m cautiously interested! The original I Know What You Did Last Summer, which was released in 1997, is one of those not-so-great films that had an impact on me because of when I watched it! I went to the cinema with some friends, with no plans for what we were gonna watch, and we picked this horror/slasher film at the last minute, not really sure what to expect. I found I Know What You Did Last Summer to be riveting stuff as a teenager, and even though I don’t think it makes such a good impression these days, it has a place in my heart for that reason.
Whether this adaptation/sequel will recapture the magic remains to be seen – but I think there are some reasons to be hopeful. Returning characters from the original, combined with a new story, could make for an interesting film… but we’ll see.
Film #3: Brick
I really don’t know what to expect from this German-language mystery-thriller – but the premise alone has me intrigued. Some people awaken to find their apartment building surrounded by an apparently impermeable wall, with no way in or out. The trailer showed several different characters in various apartments, some of whom may know something about what’s going on and why.
The film definitely feels “Netflixy,” if you get my meaning. But I think there’s enough of an interesting premise to carry the story, and it could end up being something of a sleeper hit. Maybe I’m wrong about that – but I’m eager to find out.
Film #4: Zootopia 2
Disney is still really into its sequels, eh? A follow-up to 2016’s smash hit, Zootopia 2 will see Judy and Nick back in action – this time both as members of Zootopia’s police force. The story will involve a renegade snake… and that’s about all we know so far! The original Zootopia was fun, though I admit I haven’t seen the Disney+ miniseries from a couple of years ago. Still, a return to this world could be entertaining, especially for the little ones.
In 2016, Zootopia and Moana seemed to clash, but this time Disney has managed to keep their sequels a year or so apart – which is good! Whether either of those films really needed sequels, though… well, I guess we’re about to find out.
Film #5: In Your Dreams
Another animated film now. In Your Dreams has a creative premise: two kids entering the dream world, looking to find the Sandman. I’m getting kind of a Spellbound vibe here, insofar as both films deal with kids trying to help their parents. The trailer was cute, and Netflix has done well with some of its animated pictures in recent years – so there’s definitely reason to be hopeful!
I just think the film looks great, and with Disney – as mentioned – focused on sequels, spin-offs, and remakes, there’s plenty of room for a studio like Netflix to muscle in and stake a claim in the animated realm. Last year’s Spellbound was one of my favourite films of the year, so In Your Dreams has the potential to build on that success.
Video Game #1: Donkey Kong Bananza
I don’t have a Switch 2, so chances are I won’t play Donkey Kong Bananza this year! And there are reasons to be sceptical of the game; I’m getting “double-A,” kind of mid-tier vibes from everything I’ve seen so far. However… as a big fan of DK’s last 3D adventure – Donkey Kong 64, which was more than a quarter of a century ago! – I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. A recent trailer showing off Pauline – who appeared in the original arcade game and has recently become a mainline Super Mario character – has also piqued my curiosity.
As I said when discussing the launch of the Nintendo Switch 2: this isn’t the game you buy an expensive console for. But if I eventually get my hands on a Switch 2, I can absolutely see myself picking up Donkey Kong Bananza if for no other reason than to have another 3D adventure and maybe get some of those nostalgic Donkey Kong 64 feels!
Video Game #2: Mafia: The Old Country
I remember the original Mafia on the Xbox – I expected it to just be a ’30s Grand Theft Auto III clone! The game was a lot of fun in its own right, though, with a strong, engaging story populated by fun characters, not just film noir caricatures. Mafia: The Old Country is going to step back in time and hop across the Atlantic to Sicily, focusing on the growth of the Cosa Nostra at the turn of the last century. I really like this idea; not only the time period but the Sicilian location seem like they could be a ton of fun – and something a bit different.
The Mafia trilogy was remade from the ground up a few years ago, and the remakes are also well worth playing for any fan of third-person action-adventure games. It’s my hope that The Old Country will be in the same vein, and will tell an exciting and compelling crime story. I don’t want to fully board the hype train for any unreleased title… but I have high hopes for this one!
Video Game #3: Crimson Desert
At time of writing, Crimson Desert is still on the schedule for later this year. However, it’s been a while since we heard much about the game, though some journalists got to see it at one of the recent games industry events. In short… I’m not sure if we should expect a delay! But the game looks fantastic; a large fantasy open world that promises plenty to do and different ways to play.
Developers Pearl Abyss are well known for Black Desert Online, which is now over a decade old but still has a dedicated community. I think there are plenty of reasons to look at Crimson Desert with optimism… though, as mentioned, I wouldn’t be shocked if a delay pushes it back into 2026. Of all the games we’ve talked about today, this feels like the most likely one to miss its release window.
Video Game #4: Terminator 2D: No Fate
Playing through the events of Terminator 2: Judgement Day in a game that looks like it was made for the SNES? Sign me up, that sounds perfect! Everything I’ve seen of Terminator 2D: No Fate just gives me the nostalgic feels; like I’m a kid again, playing my SNES after school with some licensed side-scrolling game like Alien 3 or Super Star Wars. The graphics look perfect, the gameplay looks like a lot of fun, and it’s an officially licensed game based on a solid film. What could go wrong?
Alright, fine – maybe I’m getting over-excited! But it’s been a while since I saw a project quite like this one, and something about the visuals and the style of gameplay just really struck a nostalgic chord for me, even just from looking at the trailer. I really can’t wait to try it for myself.
Video Game #5: Copa City
Copa City fills a niche I didn’t realise existed! It’s a football game where the objective isn’t to score goals as a player or take charge of the team as a manager, but where you set up the infrastructure around the matches. It sounds like a “tycoon game” where you’re managing different aspects of the football event: things like transportation, setting up fan zones, and the like.
I think it’s a really creative concept – and there are already a handful of officially-licensed teams and stadia on board. Whether Copa City can make good on a neat core idea remains to be seen, but I like what’s been shown off so far, and I’m curious to try it for myself. I don’t see it eclipsing the likes of EA FC and Football Manager, but it could easily find its own niche as a football game with a twist.
TV Series #1: Fallout Season 2
The first season of Fallout was creative and fun – even if it wasn’t the best thing I’ve ever watched. The cliffhanger ending was compelling enough for me to want to see the next chapter, though, for Lucy, the Ghoul, and… everyone else. You know… those characters whose names I can’t call to mind right now! Bringing the world of the Fallout video game series into live-action was a good idea, and I can see why the series has been generally well-received.
It seems as if Fallout Season 2 is heading to the city of New Vegas – so fans of the game which was set there can expect plenty of callbacks and references to those events. Maybe I should finally and belatedly play New Vegas before the new season arrives in December? Don’t hold me to it, but I might give it a go if I can find the time.
TV Series #2: King of the Hill
King of the Hill was one of those shows that I used to watch occasionally, when it was on. It was never a favourite, but I usually cracked a smile or two at the antics of Hank, Bobby, Peggy, and the rest of the characters. I can’t say I’m surprised to see King of the Hill being revisited; revivals and reboots are all the rage right now, so why not step back to the show and see if it can connect with a new audience?
I’m not sure what to expect, really. As with the recent Phineas and Ferb revival, King of the Hill is stepping forwards in time – by quite a ways, judging by Bobby’s age in the recent teaser! That could open up new storytelling ideas… but it could also take something away from the show and what made it so appealing to fans in the first place. Will it be soulless corporate slop… or was there a genuinely good idea for a revival? Let’s find out!
TV Series #3: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms
Call me overdramatic if you like, but A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is basically Westeros’ last chance to win me over! I enjoyed Game of Thrones… until it went off the rails toward the end. But I wasn’t especially keen on House of the Dragon, and I kind of drifted away from that show after a handful of episodes. With a focus on a different group of characters in a new era and setting, though… could A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms be the series that drags me back into the world of Westeros?
Maybe? I mean, why not, right? I’m not sure Game of Thrones really needs all of these spin-offs, but given how popular the original show was in its prime, I can’t exactly blame HBO for trying to recapture some of that magic. Will it work, though? And will this series succeed where Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon didn’t? I guess we’ll find out later in the year.
TV Series #4: Alien: Earth
I’m not at all caught up on all of the recent movies in the Alien universe, so I hope this TV series won’t lean too heavily on those for its main narrative arcs! A story like Alien seems well-suited to a big-budget TV show instead of just a film, so I’m certainly interested to see what kind of stories and characters we’ll see in a new format. The series taking place on Earth is an interesting idea, too, as exploring this future version of Earth is something none of the films have done.
I’m not sure I’d have chosen to make Alien: Earth as a prequel, though. My other concern is this: are the Xenomorphs still scary, and will they be scary enough to carry this new television format? Some recent Alien projects have, I would argue, degraded the Xenomorphs’ fear factor somewhat. Still, I’m curious and perhaps even hopeful that Alien: Earth can do something creative and a little different with this sci-fi property.
TV Series #5: King and Conqueror
I thought we were going to see King and Conqueror earlier in the year; filming wrapped ages ago and it seemed primed for a spring broadcast. Never mind! The series, set during the Norman Conquest of England, is set to be broadcast sometime before the end of the year. Starring Game of Thrones’ Nikolaj Coster-Waldau as William the Conqueror, the series looks like it has a lot of potential to be a fun, interesting, and entertaining re-telling of an important chapter in history.
Every British schoolkid learns about the Normans in history class – but I can’t remember a big-budget adaptation of these events like this. In that sense, I think it’s going to be really interesting to see the Norman Conquest brought to life. I hope it isn’t over-dramatised, with love interests and soap opera-style personal drama getting in the way of things! But I have confidence in the BBC and American collaborator CBS to bring the story to life in a fun and engaging way.
Bonus: Star Trek!
Captain Pike and the crew are returning soon!
It wouldn’t be a Trekking with Dennis list without some Star Trek, eh? We have Strange New Worlds’ third season coming up very soon, and I’m really looking forward to another set of adventures with Captain Pike and the crew. Some folks have suggested that Starfleet Academy could also be broadcast before the end of the year; personally, I don’t think that’s especially likely… but you never know, I guess!
For me, Strange New Worlds has been the absolute highlight of modern Star Trek; a largely episodic series focused on exploration and adventure that brought the franchise back to its roots. Starfleet Academy, with its focus on teenage and young adult characters, could be a way into the Star Trek fan community for new, younger viewers – exactly the kinds of people the franchise needs to attract in order to shore things up. With the 60th anniversary next year, I’m hoping Paramount is holding something back to celebrate – but until then, we’ve at least got ten Strange New Worlds episodes to be sinking our teeth into!
So that’s it!
Are you excited to play a particular game later this year?
We’ve taken a look at a few of the entertainment experiences that lay ahead of us over the next six months. I think there are plenty of fun ones and things to get excited about – and I’m sure there are others that will seem to come out of nowhere and catch me off-guard! That always seems to happen.
So we’re already at the midpoint of the year… and I’m still catching up on some of the things I missed in 2022, let alone 2023, 2024, and the first half of 2025! I’m getting old… which probably explains why I have my own website instead of a TikTok page, or something! In any case, I hope this has been a bit of fun and an interesting look ahead to some of the things we might enjoy between now and New Year’s Eve. Speaking of which… I’d better make sure I’ve got all of my Halloween, Christmas, and New Year’s decorations ready. If the first half of the year is any indication, the holidays are going to sneak up on me with lightning speed!
Have fun out there!
All titles mentioned above are the copyright of their respective studio, publisher, distributor, broadcaster, etc. Some photos and promotional art courtesy of IMDB. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
The first part of this review is free from story spoilers. The end of the spoiler-free section is clearly marked.
Well this is a bit of a rarity for yours truly: reviewing a film while it’s actually new and still relevant! I recently sat down to watch Netflix’s The Electric State, a film that had been on my radar for a little while. If you know me, you’ll know that I always like to give new sci-fi and fantasy adaptations a chance… and while The Electric State was imperfect and took a while to find its feet, the film managed to hit at least some of the right notes for me.
Let’s start with what I didn’t like. We’ll get into a bit more detail if you stick around for the spoilery portion of the review, but in brief… the two main acting performances weren’t spectacular. Chris Pratt seems to have become omnipresent in what’s occasionally termed “genre” cinema, and the best thing I could really say about him in The Electric State is that his performance was workmanlike. He turned up, churned out a passable performance, cashed his cheque, and that was it. I didn’t see much passion from him, or really any indication that he cared much about the role or the story. It was fine. But for the benefit of Netflix and other studios: you guys know other actors exist, right? Try someone else sometime… they might do a better job.
Chris Pratt in The Electric State.
I don’t like to pick on younger performers too much, so I’ll say this: Millie Bobby Brown was the lesser of The Electric State’s two leads. There were moments in her performance that captured some of the feelings and emotions that the Russo brothers wanted the film to convey… but there weren’t as many of them as the role really needed. Some of Michelle’s biggest scenes – moments where I should’ve been on the edge of my seat or bawling my eyes out – just didn’t stick the landing, and unfortunately that’s due more to the performer than the writing or direction. I don’t doubt that Brown was genuinely invested in the role, but I think it took her to the edge of her capabilities… at least for now. She’s definitely got room to grow in the years ahead, and I hope The Electric State will be a film to look back on in a few years’ time to see how far she’s come.
The Electric State was juggling quite a few characters, meaning there was no shortage of storylines to cram in – along with some of the film’s loftier concepts and ideas that we’ll talk about later. As a result, I felt several critically-important moments were rushed, with not enough development given to key characters nor enough time for events to unfold naturally. It takes time for people – humans and robots – to warm up to one another, to share ideas, and to commit to working together… but The Electric State, on too many occasions, didn’t have enough time to do the work. This left some scenes feeling blitzed through, while in others, characters seemed to act out of turn or without detectable motivations.
Directors the Russo brothers with star Millie Bobby Brown.
I’ve said this more than once in other reviews, but perhaps for a younger audience – raised on short-form videos – that kind of hectic pacing might work. You’ll have to check out other reviews from younger folks to see if that’s the case! But for this old critic, I’m afraid that I needed to spend a little more time with some of the characters at those moments; going from “we’ve just met” to “let’s team up and save the world” needs more than just lip-service if I’m going to really buy into it.
On a more positive note, the film’s core story was great – and if the worst thing I can say about the main narrative is that I wish I could’ve seen it play out at a more reasonable pace, that isn’t the worst thing in the world. It just means that, for me, some scenes and characters needed a bit more work. The bare bones of the story were there – and it was a strong, solid, and potentially quite emotional narrative. I could feel, hiding just beneath the surface, some of those character moments and narrative threads… and it’s a tad frustrating, more than anything else, that they didn’t get the deeper, fuller exploration that they deserved.
A trio of characters in a promotional still.
And perhaps that’s The Electric State in a nutshell – if Mr Peanut will excuse the pun. It was a film that had a genuinely good story… but it fell short of being great for the reasons outlined above. That doesn’t make it a bad film by any stretch, and I could see myself watching it again one day. But it’s a little disappointing that some of these ideas, characters, and storylines were held back or cut short. Perhaps The Electric State would’ve worked better as a miniseries – say, five or six hour-ish episodes – instead of a two-hour film.
The film’s soundtrack was fantastic, and I enjoyed some classic hits like Judas Priest’s Breakin’ The Law and Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, as well as reinterpretations of Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey and Wonderwall by Oasis. There were some truly great songs in the mix, and they were paired well with different moments in the film. The score was also fantastic – composer Alan Silvestri, who has also worked on titles like The Polar Express and Ready Player One – did a great job.
Michelle and Keats.
I don’t like to put a number on my reviews. One person’s idea of a seven out of ten might not be the same as another’s, and I think too many people skip over the actual review and just want to see numbers! But if you want to know if The Electric State is right for you, here’s what I’ll say: if you already have a Netflix subscription and you want to check out a different sci-fi title, you’ve got nothing to lose by firing it up. I would caution that it took me a while to fully get invested in The Electric State due to some of the issues outlined above, but once the film found its footing I was content to watch until the end. Would I be happy if I’d bought an entire month of Netflix purely to watch The Electric State, though? I think that’s a harder sell, to be honest with you.
Up next we’re going to talk about the plot in a little more detail. If you want to go into The Electric State un-spoiled, this is your warning to jump ship! If you’re still reading, let’s jump headfirst into the spoiler section of the review!
The film’s poster.
This is the end of the spoiler-free section. There will be story spoilers for The Electric State from here on out.
There are a couple of interesting real-world analogies that The Electric State was playing with – but I don’t think the pace of the film really managed to do justice to either. As I said above, a miniseries might’ve been a better fit for this story, because some of these potentially-interesting ideas about technological dependence, escapism, and abusive corporations deserved more time in the spotlight. In a stronger film, these ideas could’ve been key parts of the story; in The Electric State, they were basically just a backdrop for the adventure to play out in front of.
The neurocasters are a perfect metaphor for today’s smartphones, and the depiction of neurocaster addicts in The Electric State felt, in a couple of places at least, hauntingly accurate. How often do we hear about so-called “smartphone zombies” walking off bridges or into traffic, or even just bumping into people while lost in their own little worlds? The film’s message about putting down our devices, connecting with one another in real life, or even just – to borrow a Gen Z term – going outside to touch grass had potency. Unfortunately, this aspect wasn’t in focus for long enough to be as impactful as it should’ve been, and other storylines quickly overtook it.
The neurocasters could’ve been a timely metaphor.
And it’s a shame, because the time is right for a metaphor like this. There is value in a story that touches on themes of technological dependence and escapism – and I know from my own life that I spend too much time staring at a screen. The Electric State wanted to hold up a mirror to today’s society and say “look!” But it didn’t have enough time to really make this idea stick.
The same was true of the film’s corporate angle. Maybe I’m allowing current events to colour my reading of Sentre and Ethan Skate… but there was something in the presentation of this corporation and its shady leader that felt timely. A “big tech” company doing unethical things while putting on a friendly face in public… I mean, that hits close to home, right? Stanley Tucci was pitch-perfect in the role of Skate, by the way; he really made my skin crawl. And in this case, I mean that as a compliment!
Stanley Tucci played the villain exceptionally well.
I mentioned pacing earlier, and there were too many scenes in The Electric State that felt cut down or that I would’ve wanted to see expanded. Michelle’s encounter with the Cosmo robot, their first meeting with Keats and Herm, Mr Peanut’s colony of robots… all of these seemed to race by, and unfortunately, there was a lot left on the table (or the cutting-room floor). As a result, too many characters seemed to act unnaturally, being willing to team up when two seconds ago they’d been adversarial, or leaving their motivations unexplained. There was no clear explanation for why the Butcher’s drone – which had been crushed in a cave-in – could somehow be remotely re-activated without any kind of mechanical maintenance, no real explanation for why Keats didn’t abandon Michelle after he cost her his entire business, and so on.
Some characters felt less like real people than bare archetypes. Michelle’s foster father seemed to be “evil for no reason,” in line with some depictions of step-parents in old children’s stories. The doctor – the one who aided in Chris’ escape – also didn’t really have a lot of personality, though at least his motivation of wanting to do something to help a child in danger was understandable. I know I keep coming back to this idea, but a miniseries (or even just two films instead of one) could’ve lingered on some of these characters a bit longer, fleshing them out – and by extension, giving some more depth to what could feel like a pretty shallow world.
We needed to spend a bit more time with characters like Dr Amherst.
The idea of an artificial intelligence going rogue isn’t new, and we’ve seen it countless times in sci-fi. But because of The Electric State’s depiction of brightly-coloured robots based, at least in part, on fictional characters we’re familiar with, there was a bit more to it. The film also released at a moment where AI has been in the spotlight, with more and more folks using and becoming dependent on AI tools to do everything from homework to the business of government! Fears of rogue AI are nothing new, but The Electric State had at least a visually different – and occasionally striking – take on this idea.
Something we don’t always get in stories about robots turning against humanity is a peaceful outcome – and The Electric State offered a glimpse of what that could look like. Both sides started to see that there could be good in the other; that there might be a way to work together to achieve a lasting peace. Again, in the context of our troubled world, that isn’t a bad story to tell. However, this storyline also wasn’t all it needed to be to really bring that message home.
Is peace between humans and sentient robots possible?
At the core of the story were two character pairs: Keats and Herm and Michelle and Chris. Keats and Herm’s story of being on opposing sides of the war, only to end up together was a cute idea – but one I wish we could’ve seen more of. The Electric State wasn’t shy with its flashbacks, so why not flash back to the battlefield and show us, rather than just tell us, what happened to the two of them? Seeing it rather than just hearing about it would’ve been more impactful.
As for Michelle and Chris, there was a sweetness to a sister doing everything she could to help her brother. With this storyline being the film’s core – both narratively and emotionally – it was the most important one for The Electric State to get right. As above, I don’t think Millie Bobby Brown was outstanding in the role of Michelle; her best scene was probably the one at the mall where she, Cosmo, and several other robots were wordlessly watching the old cartoon. The young performers did their best, I have no doubt, and criticising the on-screen chemistry between them would feel a bit harsh. What I’ll say instead is that there were some good moments and some less-good moments on this side of the story. At times, it could feel like heavy lifting to remain fully invested in Michelle’s story.
Chris and Michelle in a flashback.
I touched on this above, but the designs of some of the robots were really interesting and made for a fun visual presentation. Inspired in part by the animatronics at Disney World and other theme parks, there were some genuinely neat designs in the mix. Cosmo – the robot inhabited by Chris – was perhaps the most important one to get right, and I think the animators and designers did a good job. A lot of the robots also looked dirty and decaying after years without maintenance, and that definitely came across.
One important point that I think The Electric State would’ve benefitted from explaining is why Cosmo couldn’t talk but every other robot we met could. I guess there was supposed to be some limitation – that Cosmo only had a handful of pre-programmed phrases – but this wasn’t really explained, and when we met a whole community of robots who could all talk much more freely… it felt a bit odd. The idea was interesting, and limiting Chris’ ability to communicate with Michelle served a purpose. But… it also meant that this pairing relied even more on Michelle to talk and emote, which wasn’t always the film’s strongest suit as we’ve already covered.
Chris seems to have had the bad luck of possessing the only robot in this world without the power of speech.
The Elecrtic State is supposedly set in 1994, and I guess Netflix was hoping that there’d be a lot of nineties nostalgia floating around to entice viewers. As someone who grew up in the ’90s… I didn’t really get much of a nostalgia blast from the film. There were some moments, sure: Sentre’s video presentation with ’90s-inspired graphics, some of the cars and vehicles on the road, the mall setting that would likely be half-closed today, and old PCs sporting CRT monitors and Windows 3.1 all spring to mind. But for a film that seemed to be pitching itself on its ’90s setting… I really didn’t feel all that much of it in the finished product.
Oh, and speaking of the nineties: that clip at the beginning of Bill Clinton? The voice was fine, but the ex-president’s face seemed to be very amateurishly pasted into the scene, and it didn’t look great. Visuals in The Electric State were generally good, but that moment wasn’t!
I liked this retro presentation of the neurocaster from the beginning of the film.
So that was The Electric State. It’s unlikely to win any awards, but it was okay for what it was. There’s plenty of room for new adaptations in a sci-fi genre that’s drowning in established franchises, reboots, and sequels, and I’m genuinely happy that Netflix gave the green light to a project like this. For my money, I’d be content to re-watch The Electric State in the future. I don’t think the film hit all of the high notes its directors were hoping for, and there are some limitations to the story and a couple of the key performances. But The Electric State wasn’t a terrible film.
I’ll be curious to take a look at the visual novel that the film is based on and see how different it is and how many changes were made. I stand by what I said earlier: this story, the one presented in the film, would’ve worked better if it had longer to play out. Netflix is well-known for its big-budget series… and perhaps expanding this story to five or six episodes instead of a single film would’ve been to The Electric State’s benefit.
Oh well!
The Electric State is available to stream now on Netflix. The Electric State is the copyright of Netflix and/or AGBO and Skybound Entertainment. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers ahead for Zero Day, including the final episode.
I recently binge-watched Netflix’s Zero Day, and I thought it could be good subject matter for a review here on the website. If you know me, you’ll know that I find American politics to be fascinating, and I’m also a fan of conspiracy thrillers. Zero Day ticks both of those boxes – so the miniseries had been on my radar for a while. I’m glad to have finally been able to check it out for myself!
Before we get into spoiler territory, here’s the headline: I liked Zero Day on the whole. It successfully built up tension through a complex web of storylines, its characters mostly felt real and engaging, and the core premise – a devastating cyber-attack that takes out a huge chunk of America’s connected infrastructure – feels timely. Exploring the impact of that from the political side was an interesting idea, and I felt echoes of a British series called Cobra, which looked at the political and governmental fallout from a natural disaster. Zero Day was not without its flaws, but it was a fun ride that I was happy to be swept along for.
Ex-president George Mullen.
Robert de Niro is one of Hollywood’s most famous faces – but I have to confess that I’ve only ever seen a couple of his films (Taxi Driver and Stardust, if you were wondering). He’s one of those actors that seems to be absolutely everywhere… but whose work I seem to have unintentionally avoided! I’m not much of a cinephile, I guess. But I was interested to see what this legendary actor could do with a television series – only his third television role. With made-for-streaming TV’s higher budgets, shows like Zero Day can feel more cinematic than they would’ve even just a few years ago, and with more time for a story to unfold, there’s a lot to be said for the format. I’m a big supporter of TV as an entertainment medium.
So let’s get to Zero Day, where Robert de Niro’s waiting.
Sorry, that was a terrible way to shoehorn in that reference. De Niro did a solid job in Zero Day, and was probably at his best in the scenes where George’s mental health was in focus. Some fictional presidents (or ex-presidents, in this case) feel like they’re obviously based on a real person, but I didn’t get that sense this time – at least not from de Niro’s performance. You could project elements of several recent presidents and political figures onto George Mullen, but none really leapt out as being definitive.
Mullen was an interesting character.
One thing I didn’t find particularly believable about Mullen was that he’d had an affair. Something about the way de Niro played the character as upstanding, trying to do the right thing, dedicated to the truth at all costs… it just didn’t gel with this part of the character’s backstory. If we’d seen part of the affair in flashback form, or even just seen George as more firey and temperamental at that point in his life, maybe I’d have been more willing to buy it. But based on what we see of the character in Zero Day, I’m not so sure it works. The thought that he might’ve betrayed his marriage vows and his family, and taken advantage of his status in a relationship with a power imbalance… it’s not so much that it feels icky, because that’s the point of the revelation. It just didn’t feel like something this character would do.
In that sense, this piece of personal history felt like a bit of a narrative contrivance. It was a way for other, villainous characters in the story to have something they could use against George and his allies rather than something that felt natural for the character. And look, I get it: people can change with age, and their temperament can mellow. Part of the story, as we’ll talk about in a moment, was to do with age and ageing and how getting older can change or limit one’s perspective. But in this case… it just didn’t feel natural to me, so when it came to the affair being used by the rather one-dimensional Monica Kidder as an attempt to blackmail George, all I could think was “oh, so that’s why they chose to include it.”
Monica Kidder, one of Zero Day’s conspirators.
Several of Zero Day’s villains – if we can truly define “villains” and “heroes” in a show with so many deliberate shades of grey – felt pretty flat for me. Kidder might be the worst of the bunch – though Gabby Hoffman put in a solid performance with the material she had to work with – but I’d also include Clark Gregg’s Robert Lyndon in there too, as well as the various thugs, Russian spies, and others. None of them felt particularly fleshed-out as characters, and when one of the advantages of television over film has always been that you have more screen time to introduce and explore your characters… that’s just a little disappointing.
I would also say that the Russian agents in particular felt like cardboard cut-out character stereotypes. Russians as villains – or just as nefarious criminals and gangsters – has been a trope of American entertainment going back to the dawn of the Cold War, so we’ve seen duplicitous and criminal Russian spies in so many different productions over the years. Although Zero Day did, in its own way, seek to make a point about this… the main Russian character we spent time with in the first couple of episodes was just a walking trope. The same was true of Zero Day’s apparently omnipotent Mossad agent, who knew everything before the Americans did.
Generic Russian spy/gangster #47.
Zero Day’s governmental and congressional villains did, I would suggest, work a bit better than the one-dimensional “tech bros,” hedge fund investors, and Russian stereotypes. I will give credit to the series for trying to make a point about America’s wealthy classes and how they might see an opportunity in terror and confusion, but it wasn’t the main focus of the story and it was a point that’s been made better in countless other productions over the years. I could’ve happily spent an entire episode, for example, on the ramifications of Lyndon making money via his insider knowledge of the cyber-attack, and how that has real-world parallels. Zero Day raised this idea, but either didn’t know where to take it or was forced to drop it before the point could be hammered home.
Dreyer was a fun character, though, and his story of wanting to create an event he could take advantage of – while having convinced himself he would be the hero in that situation – was genuinely engaging. Zero Day kept Dreyer’s involvement in the attacks and attempted coup secret until near the end of the story for dramatic effect, which worked well – but also left me wanting more! Particularly because the series ended without Dreyer being arrested, I guess that could feel a little unsatisfying. As the audience, we know George and his team have the evidence – but seeing it used to arrest or convict Dreyer would’ve been the natural outcome.
Speaker Dreyer turned out to be one of the main plotters.
There are a couple of important ideas raised by Zero Day that I’d like to talk about next. This first one isn’t necessarily part of the story, but it’s absolutely essential to whether Zero Day will be enjoyable or even watchable for some people. In short… this is a series that, while critical of America and its government in some ways, is also implicitly supportive of many of the institutions that are in focus. At no point does Zero Day propose seriously overhauling or changing the way some of America’s three-letter acronyms operate, even when we see torture first-hand, sanctioned by George and his commission. It’s not exactly flag-waving, thin blue line right-wing populism… but its unwillingness to go further in its criticisms, and its reliance on “good people doing the right thing” is a bit… I dunno. Hypocritical, perhaps?
One fact that’s universally true in all systems and all governments is this: when you give an organisation or agency a set of powers, it’s basically impossible to take those powers away. As President Mitchell is told by Dreyer, “you can’t put that genie back in the bottle.” But Zero Day ends with George stepping down, the commission he headed being dismantled, and the attack’s perpetrators under arrest. The implication is that the “good guys” won and things will go back to normal. But when the US government developed the weapon used in the attack, and the commission designed to investigate the attack abused its extraordinary powers… how can “let’s all get back to normal” possibly be the outcome we’re rooting for?
As the credits roll, has George really set things right?
Secondly, Zero Day touched on the idea of America as a gerontocracy – albeit in a particular way. A gerontocracy, if you’re unfamiliar with the word, is a nation-state governed by elderly people. At time of writing, a full one-third of the United States Senate and nearly 20% of the House of Representatives are over the age of 70 – as are the president and four of the nine Supreme Court justices. It’s absolutely worth taking the time to talk about this and criticise it, as the baby boomer generation continues to horde wealth and power. Zero Day doesn’t tackle this directly, but I did feel at least some of this through George’s characterisation.
It was left ambiguous at the end of Zero Day whether George was suffering from some kind of mental health issue or an attack by a neurological weapon. I kind of read Zero Day as aiming for the former, not the latter, but there could be arguments both ways. But his mystery condition comes across, at least in part, as being similar to the early stages of dementia. How many times was former president Biden criticised for his age? His apparent senility forced him to drop his re-election bid just a matter of months ago. And when George seemed to pause midway through a speech as his mind wandered? That reminded me an awful lot of Senator McConnell, who – at the tender age of eighty-three – has recently announced he plans not to run for re-election.
Was George suffering from an age-related illness like dementia?
As above, this message wasn’t the main focus – and I’m not sure that dementia is even the way Zero Day’s writers intended those scenes to be read. Instead, the series is really trying to set up this mystery of PTSD versus a neurological weapon… and leaves it deliberately open-ended, with evidence pointing both ways. While this was interesting and engaging while the series was running, it’s another story thread that doesn’t feel neatly tied up now that the credits have rolled.
And I’m assuming, based on what Netflix, de Niro, and others have said, that Zero Day won’t be returning. With its conspirators uncovered and outed, and the malware that led to the cyber-attack being patched out and rendered harmless, it’s hard to see where to take the story for a full second season. However… maybe one more episode wouldn’t have been a terrible idea. A kind of epilogue, showing the perpetrators on trial, the dismantling of the commission, and settling the question of Geroge’s mental state wouldn’t have gone amiss.
Dreyer at the end of the series.
Zero Day did find a lot to say about modern society and its reliance on connected technological systems. While it’s impossible (at least based on my knowledge of computer programming) for a single, universal computer virus to take down as wide a range of systems as Zero Day depicts, the core message of these incredibly important networks being vulnerable is a timely one. It wouldn’t take much to push a critical system to the point of failure, and cyber-attacks are a legitimate concern for businesses, governments, and even individuals.
There’s also the matter of privacy, which Zero Day raises. Corporations – like the fictional Panoply – have access to huge amounts of personal information, and how they use that information is something we need to be aware of at the very least. The alliance of “big tech” with certain political figures raises a whole new set of questions about privacy and ethics – something Zero Day touches on but doesn’t really delve into in a lot of detail.
The Zero Day Commission’s headquarters.
Zero Day was in development at least as far back as 2022, with filming getting underway in 2023. This was well before Joe Biden stepped down from his re-election bid, but I felt there was more than a little of former VP Kamala Harris in Angela Bassett’s portrayal of Zero Day’s President Mitchell. Something about her calm tone of voice, and perhaps choices of outfit and hairstyle, all seemed to be leaning into that presentation. Mitchell was a distinct character, and not necessarily based on Harris or anyone else, but there seemed to be deliberate choices in the way she was presented that drew inspiration from America’s first African American and female vice president.
Since 9/11, the war on terror, and America’s Patriot Act, we’ve seen a lot of films and TV shows tackle terrorist conspiracies and criticise the heavy-handed government response. Parts of Zero Day – the “enhanced interrogation” tactics, the commission’s unconstitutional powers, and nameless, masked police officers dressed all in black with guns – are all things we’ve seen before. Zero Day, as mentioned, seemed to stumble over the point it wanted to make about these things, trying to simultaneously criticise the abuses of power we’ve seen while also still wanting to present most of its protagonists as fundamentally decent people who were forced to do bad things by circumstances beyond their control. This presentation felt rather two-faced, as if the series and its producers weren’t willing to fully commit.
George’s commission rounded up a lot of people.
There are better depictions of America going rogue, breaking the law, and torturing people. And there are, for those interested, better flag-waving depictions of America as a virtuous land of freedom and liberty. Zero Day wanted to be the former, but its focus on an ex-president, law enforcement officials, and weirdly, the head of the CIA as its “good guys” really got in the way of that message. While the cyber-attack, the conspiracy behind it, and George’s efforts to uncover the truth were all interesting, engaging, and entertaining in their own ways, this confused message leaves the series as a whole feeling like a project that probably had a bit too much corporate meddling. It seems unsure of itself and unwilling to fully commit to exploring the consequences of some of its storylines, messages, and themes.
Zero Day raised a couple of other interesting points in a tangential way. Firstly, through the character of Alex we got to catch a glimpse of the effect politics can have on a young person. I’ve long felt that most politicians have to be narcissists – if not outright sociopaths – to put their families and young children through life in the public eye. The way some politicians almost seem to use their families as props, especially in the United States, is pretty sickening. Zero Day touched on this with the relationship between Alex and her father, and it’s one of the first productions I’ve seen to really do so. It was interesting, at any rate.
Alex Mullen – the daughter of the former president.
There was also the theme of addiction, which we saw in Roger’s character. Roger had seemingly overcome a heroin addiction – something that was used against him at the end – and while this was never in focus, I’m always keen to see stories about recovering addicts that are presented positively. Roger may not have been a pure and virtuous character, but he was realistic and human, and the way Zero Day handled his addiction didn’t feel tokenistic or clumsy in the way it can sometimes.
Music was used to great effect in Zero Day. Obviously the song Who Killed Bambi by the Sex Pistols was incredibly important to the plot – and I doubt I’ll be able to listen to it again without thinking of this miniseries! But throughout the show, the score was excellent – building tension to great effect. It was the quintessential thriller score, and it worked exceptionally well. Camera work was also solid; I particularly liked the West Wing-inspired “walk and talk” shots at the commission’s HQ.
There were quite a few of these “walk and talk” sequences.
So I think that was everything I had in my notes. Zero Day was an interesting and engaging political thriller – even if it wasn’t quite willing to fully commit to some of its themes and story ideas. I binged it in a couple of sittings, which is something I’ll only do if I’m really into a show, and the time seemed to fly by. It was absolutely worth re-subscribing to Netflix (a subscription I don’t keep most of the time) in order to be able to watch it. I daresay I’ll find a few other things to watch before my one-month subscription is up, too!
I had Zero Day on my radar at the beginning of the year, and I’m glad I was able to check it out. It’s unlikely to be my pick for “TV show of the year” come December, but having already seen a far worse miniseries in 2025 (Earth Abides, which I categorically do not recommend) it’s not gonna be the worst thing I’ve seen this year, either! It kept my attention well enough, but having gone back to it to put together this review and capture a few still frames… I guess I’m not gonna spend a lot more time thinking about Zero Day. It was good. Not exceptional, and not the best thing I’ve ever seen. But decent.
Zero Day is available to stream now on Netflix. Zero Day is the copyright of Netflix and/or Grand Electric Productions. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
The first part of this review is free from major plot spoilers. The end of the spoiler-free section is clearly indicated.
With Christmas approaching, I like to enjoy a festive film or two! And after That Christmas had been recommended to be by a family member, I thought it would be worth re-subscribing to Netflix for a month or two in order to check it out. And you know what? I’m glad I did – That Christmas is one of the sweetest and most fun Christmas films that I’ve seen in years!
That Christmas is a film with heart, populated by a really great cast of characters. A story that brings different groups of characters together for one big Christmas mission always hits me right in the feels – and that’s what That Christmas delivers. It’s a film for kids, sure – but there’s a lot for adults to enjoy, too.
Santa Claus in That Christmas.
There’s some fantastic animation work present in That Christmas. I’ve talked before about how snow can be difficult to get right in animation, but That Christmas really nails the look and feel of both snowfall and deep snow lying on the ground. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without snow – and as both a playground for some of the younger characters and an obstacle for the adults, the snow serves both a narrative function and manages to look fantastic, setting the tone of the film.
Voice acting is stellar across the board – even for younger characters. That Christmas features some well-known names – Doctor Who’s Jodie Whittaker, Brian Cox, and Bill Nighy all play big roles. But there are also some newer performers and younger voice actors with whom I wasn’t familiar, and they all did a fantastic job of bringing their characters to life.
Several of the film’s younger characters.
That Christmas also has a great soundtrack. There are a couple of familiar festive hits in there, and one brand-new song: Under The Tree by Ed Sheeran. Earlier in the year, Under The Tree was being talked up as a potential Christmas number one; it didn’t get there, peaking at a lowly number 92 in the charts a couple of weeks ago. But for my money it’s a sweet song – and it plays at a particularly emotional moment in the film. To land a songwriter of Ed Sheeran’s calibre is a coup for That Christmas, even if the song didn’t storm the charts on its own!
That Christmas was based on a book: That Christmas and Other Stories by Richard Curtis, which released earlier in 2024. Curtis is a great writer and scriptwriter, being known for co-writing the likes of Mr Bean, Blackadder, and perennial festive favourite Love Actually. I actually felt echoes of the latter in That Christmas, particularly in the way the film started off with different character pairs and groups, but gradually weaved their stories together. That Christmas is much more overtly about the holiday than Love Actually, though!
Writer Richard Curtis (left) with director Simon Otto at an animation festival earlier in 2024. Photo Credit: Netflix
So I think I’ve said as much as I can without getting into story spoilers. If you just want to know whether or not I recommend That Christmas, the answer is an emphatic “yes!” It’s a fantastic holiday film, one that will almost certainly be hailed in the years to come as a classic. I know that I’ll be returning to it next Christmas – and every Christmas thereafter for as long as I’m still alive and kicking!
Now we’re going to talk in a bit more detail about a few of the storylines. Nothing in That Christmas is earth-shattering, but if you want to watch the film completely un-spoiled, this is your opportunity to jump ship. If you want to come back after you’ve seen it to get my full thoughts, that would be great, too!
This is the end of the spoiler-free section of the review. Expect story spoilers for That Christmas from here on out!
I absolutely love a story about Santa Claus. I’ve talked about this before, but for me, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Santa and that mysterious magical quality that he brings. In That Christmas, Santa’s role is really interesting, as he gives other characters in the story a bit of a push in the right direction – through the medium of gift-giving.
Santa’s defining trait in every story are the presents he delivers on Christmas Eve. But in That Christmas, these presents become integral to the plot, with all of the children receiving gifts that help some other part of the story. Using Santa Claus in this way – instead of just delivering generic toys to the good children – was really creative and fun. It presents Santa as being a kind of omniscient observer, and someone who wants to do good, but who doesn’t get actively involved. We don’t see Santa join in the search for the missing Evie at the climax of the story, but the gifts he provided to some of the kids gave them the boost they needed to aid in the search on their own terms.
The search party setting out to look for Evie.
I also liked the visual presentation of Santa, Dasher, and particularly the sack full of presents! Something that can be hard to depict in Christmas stories is Santa’s sack – how could he possibly fit presents for all of the world’s children in one sack? Some films simply show an incredibly large sack on an oversized sleigh, but That Christmas kept things smaller and much more in line with visual depictions of Santa in popular culture. The answer to this apparent contradiction was simple: a blue-tinted magical glow inside Santa’s sack.
We didn’t ever get to see inside the sack, but it was implied through this neat little visual effect that there’s bona fide Christmas magic at work – and that’s how Santa is able to carry the sack and deliver all of the gifts. I really liked this idea, and I think it added to the magical feel of the character.
Santa’s magical sack.
As to the reindeer, though… I suspect the reason only one reindeer was included was to make the sequences easier to animate, as well as perhaps to limit the number of speaking roles. I’m not sure I would’ve chosen Dasher as the only reindeer – Rudolph is surely much more associated with Christmas! But I really liked Dasher’s personality, which was brought to life thanks to a wonderful vocal performance from Guz Khan.
That Christmas found many ways to tug at the heartstrings, but no more so than with the aloof, strict, and apparently very lonely school teacher Ms Trapper. I think many of us can remember having a teacher that we found to be unpleasant or overly strict; it’s an almost universal childhood memory! Ms Trapper reminded me, at first, of Miss Trunchbull – from Roald Dahl’s Matilda. I certainly felt echoes of that character in Fiona Shaw’s performance. But it soon turned out that Ms Trapper – while being strict – was an ultimately caring character with a tragic side.
Danny with Ms Trapper.
Pairing her up with the young Danny Williams made for one of That Christmas’s most emotional and sweet stories. The lonely teacher and the boy feeling abandoned made great foils for one another, both during the town’s snow day and later, as they teamed up to make Danny’s mum’s Christmas special and then setting out to aid in the rescue of the stranded adults in the mini-bus. There were some adorable moments between the two as Danny came to appreciate his teacher and Ms Trapper’s strict facade started to show some cracks.
Also on the Williams side of the story was a relatable conversation about healthcare – and Britain’s overworked NHS in particular. Mrs Williams was a nurse, and was called into action repeatedly at Christmas time, sacrificing time with her family in order to be there for her patients. During the pandemic, we celebrated NHS workers. But with the service under increasing pressure, it’s worth drawing our attention to the real heroes who continue to work there and continue to provide care for people who need it the most.
There was a surprisingly realistic portrayal of life as an NHS nurse.
I’m always gonna love a sweet story about a “bad” but ultimately reformable character – and we got that with the Beccles twins. After realising her misbehaviour had caught up to her, Charlie made the ultimate sacrifice to give the Christmas presents back to her sister after Santa – deliberately, surely! – put them on her side of the room. This led to the revelation that Charlie’s actions were all intended to make Sam smile, further adding to the adorableness of this storyline!
The twins were great characters, and their contrasting personalities made for entertaining viewing. Unlike in some stories, I always got the sense that the sisters really enjoyed each other’s company – even though they had wildly different perspectives on practically everything. This set up Charlie’s big act of kindness and the later revelation perfectly; it would have been harder to pull off if we’d seen the twins fighting or arguing with one another.
The twins on Christmas morning.
The blended family – The McNutts, Forrests, and Muljis – were an interesting bunch. I felt the adults here were a little too incompetent, perhaps… getting stranded very easily and being unable to get themselves out of the situation by, y’know, walking a few metres. But that can be a trope of kids’ fiction, and it kept the adults out of the way so that the kids could have their version of a “perfect Christmas,” free from the oppressive traditions forced upon them by their parents. As the setup for a fun story, I think it worked well enough.
The standout character here was Bernadette – the eldest of the children and the designated babysitter for her siblings and cousins. There was a duality to her characterisation: she both took a lead role in caring for the kids and giving them a wonderful and memorable Christmas – all the while keeping them distracted while their parents were missing – and then later realised her own limitations when Evie went missing. There’s a story here about growing up too fast, and how even the most mature kids are still just kids, at the end of the day.
Bernadette with Evie and her mother.
The climactic search effort to save Evie was fantastic. It brought everyone together and gave the kids a starring role, while still including all of the adult characters, too. A toddler lost in the snow was a plotline that had genuine stakes – and seemed to put into context all of the other conflicts, arguments, and problems that the characters had been facing. The threat to little Evie, as she wandered off into the cold night, led everyone to put their issues aside and step up to help. It was brilliantly done, well-written, and a wonderfully engaging storyline.
Evie’s disappearance had a huge impact on Bernadette, as she blamed herself for what happened. But no-one else blamed her – even her parents – and the way everyone in the community came together to help was fantastic. I also really liked the visual effect of text messages being sent across Wellington-on-Sea, represented by little text boxes above everyone’s homes. It was a very creative way to show the community spreading the word and leaping into action.
This was a very creative and powerful visual effect.
With every story in That Christmas being connected and serving a purpose, the escaped turkeys ultimately led to Evie being found – and the planning that went into every aspect of the film’s narrative was on full display. As the characters came together to celebrate finding the lost girl, I really felt how well-scripted and well-planned the entire story had been. Even aspects that seemed less interesting at first – like the over-the-top presentation of the unpleasant farmer – had all been in service of a cleverly-woven narrative, and it really was fantastic to see it all come together.
So if you’ve watched your usual festive favourites too many times this December, and you need something new… give That Christmas a chance. I really think it’s one of the best, most creative, and just plain fun Christmas films that I’ve seen in a while! And if I’m still here next Christmas – which, touch wood, I will be – I’ll definitely be firing it up again.
Merry Christmas!
I really had a great time with That Christmas. It’s clever, funny, and dramatic in different places, with a great cast of young and older characters who all feel real and whose motivations seem genuine. It’s also distinctly British in its tone and setting, reminding me in more ways than one of Christmases when I was younger, as well as harkening back to perennial festive favourites like 1991’s Father Chrismas as well as Richard Curtis’ own Love Actually. If you enjoyed either of those, I daresay you’ll find a lot to love in That Christmas, too.
I’m glad this was recommended to me – and now, in turn, I pass the recommendation on to you and yours this Christmas! With a couple of days left to go before the big day, there’s still time to jump in and give That Christmas a watch. With so little on TV this Christmas, it could even be your big Christmas Day film; I think That Christmas would be fantastic in that role.
Until next time – and Merry Christmas!
That Christmas is available to stream now on Netflix. That Christmas is the copyright of Netflix and/or Locksmith Animation. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
The first part of this review is free from major story spoilers. The end of the spoiler-free section is clearly marked.
Right off the bat, I ought to tell you two things. First, I’ve never read The Three-Body Problem by Liu Cixin, nor either of its sequels. I’d seen the barest of outlines of the premise when I looked into it a couple of years ago – after hearing that Netflix had greenlit this adaptation – but I didn’t track down and read a copy. To be honest… it seemed like it might be a bit weighty and dense for my reading tastes! As a result, I’m not going to be comparing 3 Body Problem to its source material – because I’m totally unfamiliar with that source material. I know there have been some alterations, with several characters being merged and ethnicities being changed to take a Chinese story and make it multi-racial and multi-cultural, but that’s really the extent of my knowledge of the changes that Netflix made with its adaptation.
Secondly, regular readers might recall that I didn’t like the final season of Game of Thrones. Why is that relevant? Because the executive producers/showrunners of 3 Body Problem are none other than David Benioff and DB Weiss – who helmed Game of Thrones for its entire eight-season run. I think I’m right in saying that 3 Body Problem is Benioff and Weiss’ second project since Game of Thrones ended, but its the first that I’ve come across – and arguably the first big project since that series ended its run back in 2019.
Promo poster for 3 Body Problem.
I’ve felt for a long time that Benioff and Weiss did exceptionally well at adapting a complicated series of novels for the small screen – so there was hope for their treatment of 3 Body Problem. Where they went off the rails, I would argue, and where their particular skillset was not as useful, was in writing their own narrative threads and picking up a half-complete story. Nobody could’ve known back in 2008, when Game of Thrones first entered pre-production, that the novels upon which it was based wouldn’t be finished in time and that the TV series would end up “overtaking” the books. But unfortunately, Benioff and Weiss were left to pick up the pieces – and came up short.
But that’s enough about Game of Thrones for now! All of this is to say that, when dealing with a complete novel trilogy, I felt that there was the potential to see Benioff and Weiss shine once more; to put their unique skills to use on an adaptation of a fully-complete story. And, based on the first season of 3 Body Problem, I think I was right about that.
3 Body Problem is helmed by David Benioff (left) and DB Weiss. Image Credit: IMDB.
So here’s the headline: I liked 3 Body Problem. It was exceptionally well-paced with some incredible acting performances, even from stars that I wasn’t particularly keen to see included. Its narrative was gripping; truly well-written sci-fi with a complicated yet enthralling underlying premise. Characters behaved in ways that felt genuine and human, something that can sometimes get lost in stories about higher dimensions, aliens, and interstellar communication.
Visual effects weren’t perfect, and I felt there were a few moments of the dreaded “uncanny valley” creeping into 3 Body Problem. However, when the action focused on characters up close, set designs, costumes, and props all looked great, and many smaller CGI/animated moments looked solid. When compared to other flagship series in the sci-fi/thriller spaces, 3 Body Problem was probably about on par in terms of animation – and perhaps a cut above when it came to physical sets and props.
Some CGI/animated moments fell into the “uncanny valley.”
3 Body Problem dipped its toes in narrative arcs that looked at religious communities and cults, conspiracy theories, alien races, cross-species communication, and much more. The core group of characters felt well-rounded, and the way in which they interacted with these often strange and confusing storylines went a long way to making the whole thing work and feel relatable. Although much of the action focused on scientists who are far more intelligent than I am, I still found myself relating to them and seeing this twisted version of our own world through their eyes. More than once I caught myself wondering how I would’ve reacted, or how I would’ve chosen to act if I were in their shoes – and to me, that’s great storytelling!
There were a few lines of dialogue that were either clunkily overladen with exposition or that made me roll my eyes, but for the most part the series did exceptionally well in that regard. Taking several complicated concepts from the realm of theoretical physics and making them understandable for the layperson is no mean feat – but I came away from every episode feeling like I understood what was going on, where the sources of tension and drama were, and how it was impacting our characters and the world around them. Obviously 3 Body Problem isn’t a physics class, and I don’t want to pat myself on the back and pretend that I somehow comprehend something that other viewers wouldn’t! But I want to draw attention to the very real successes that the series had in making its dense topics work in this fictional setting.
Most of the main cast members on a promo poster.
The only real concern I have about 3 Body Problem is this: at time of writing, it hasn’t been renewed for a second season. The first season didn’t complete the story, so it needs at least one or realistically two or three more seasons to adapt the remaining books in the series and bring everything to a satisfying conclusion. I’m sure that the production team and actors will be happy to make the rest of the story – but right now, the spectre of cancellation is hanging over the series. Netflix has a disappointing track record in this area, with a number of popular and high-profile series being cancelled after a single season. I truly hope that 3 Body Problem won’t join them in the growing Netflix graveyard.
I’ve also made the point before about long breaks in between short seasons. 3 Body Problem ran to eight episodes – which is increasingly typical for a flagship made-for-streaming series these days. With Netflix still uncommitted to a second season, it will take time to re-start production, and that could easily lead to a two-year wait for Season 2. That’s not great, in my opinion, and while I obviously want to see the series continue and finish telling the compelling story it set up, there are issues that arise when any story disappears for years at a time.
Do we need to start a campaign to ensure that Netflix renews 3 Body Problem?
So I think I’ve covered as much as I can without digging into specific story threads and character moments. I don’t put numbers out of ten or star ratings out of five on my reviews, but if you want to know whether or not I recommend 3 Body Problem, the answer is a resounding “yes.” Definitely give it a watch if you have access to Netflix, and it’s probably even worth picking up a month’s worth of Netflix to give it a watch if, like me, you’re being a bit more careful with subscriptions in the current economic climate. That’s what I did, at any rate!
What I’ll do now is talk in a bit more detail about characters and storylines – right up to the end of the season. So if you haven’t seen 3 Body Problem yet and you don’t want to have it spoiled, this is your opportunity to jump ship! But I hope you’ll come back to see what I have to say after you’re done watching all eight episodes.
This is the end of the spoiler-free section of this review. There will be spoilers for 3 Body Problem from this point forwards – including twists, character arcs, and the way the season ended.
There are some producers and writers who love to collaborate with the same actors over and over again. Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, John Ford and John Wayne, and JJ Abrams and Simon Pegg all come to mind as well-known partners across multiple productions. But I confess that I was a little surprised (and disappointed) to see Benioff and Weiss pick three prolific former Game of Thrones cast members to star in 3 Body Problem. Going into the series, I was especially cautious about John Bradley taking on a main role – but also worried about the potential for Liam Cunningham and Johnathan Pryce to overshadow or get in the way of the scenes they were in.
None of these three had any on-screen interaction, which I think is actually a good thing. Pryce is an actor who’s played many different roles over the years, and while his “religious nut” character in 3 Body Problem had echoes of his starring role in Game of Thrones, it wasn’t enough to overshadow it as I’d feared. Cunningham took on a very different role as the leader of the shadowy MI5/CIA-inspired organisation, and thoroughly excelled.
John Bradley in 3 Body Problem.
John Bradley was the actor I had the most concerns about going into 3 Body Problem, and while I wouldn’t say that he was “miscast” in that role… I think there’s a degree of favouritism from the producers there. Bradley’s performance was solid enough, but Rooney was arguably the least-convincing of the main characters – meaning his relatively early demise was probably to the series’ overall benefit.
Ever since she first appeared as Keiko O’Brien in Star Trek: The Next Generation, I felt that Rosalind Chao had the ability to play a starring role. We saw a bit of that in Deep Space Nine, with episodes like In The Hands of the Prophets that gave Keiko a central role in the plot. Chao did not disappoint in 3 Body Problem, taking on the challenging role of an elder Ye Wenjie. Ye was the one who contacted the San-Ti, and who “invited” them to come to Earth, and later had to come to terms with what that might mean for herself and for humanity. The younger version of the character seemed to be steadfast and resolute in her decision, but as time passed – and especially after the San-Ti had abandoned her and her followers to their gruesome fates – Ye was left alone with the weight of what she had done.
Ye Wenjie is confronted with the reality of the San-Ti’s impending arrival.
It’s hard to imagine an actor better-placed to play that role, and Rosalind Chao excelled. The scene in which Ye Wenjie was revealed as the true leader of the San-Ti worshippers was genuinely breathtaking, and her scenes in a holding cell as she at first resisted sharing what she knew, then came to terms with the San-Ti abandoning her and her fellow cultists, was riveting. Ye’s final realisation that she had single-handedly inflicted this catastrophe on all of humankind was shattering for her – and Rosalind Chao brought every bit of that process to life in gut-wrenching fashion.
One thing that modern sci-fi does exceptionally well is emphasising just how different an alien race could be from humanity. We’re used to seeing prosthetic foreheads on aliens in Star Trek, or the human-sized, bipedal aliens present in the Star Wars galaxy, but the reality of alien life – assuming it exists out there in the cosmos somewhere – is likely going to be very different! The Expanse showed us the “protomolecule,” and that was a really clever and fun idea. And in 3 Body Problem we’re introduced to the San-Ti.
The San-Ti presented themselves as humanoid.
I would love to know what the San-Ti really look like. Are they giant space bears? Insectoid? Perhaps some kind of multi-legged amphibian? The fact that they went unseen for the entirety of 3 Body Problem – being represented only by deliberately humanoid virtual avatars – was a hugely positive thing as it keeps the mystery going! I’m not sure whether their true form gets revealed in one of the subsequent novels, but I kind of hope that they remain a mystery. Keeping only a single humanoid avatar (and human cultists) worked exceptionally well. And I think the series might lose something significant if the San-Ti’s true form were revealed too soon!
The titular “three-body problem” is something that, I have to confess, my neanderthal brain is struggling with. A planet orbiting three stars is affected by the gravity of all three – but predicting its path becomes impossible beyond a certain point. That’s my ridiculously oversimplified understanding… but here’s what I don’t get. If the planet’s position can be predicted at all, what’s to stop someone clever from making prediction atop prediction, until they’ve plotted the planet’s course over centuries or millennia? It’s something to do with “chaos theory,” isn’t it? This stuff is way above my intellectual level! But it’s to the credit of 3 Body Problem that I came away with even that basic of an understanding of such a complex topic.
I’m no physicist… but there are three suns!
Having two timelines on the go at once – a “present day” and “flashback” – seems to be in vogue in made-for-streaming TV at the moment, but it’s one element of 3 Body Problem that worked well. We started with young Ye Wenjie in the 1960s, and then jumped ahead to see the main plot of the series beginning to unfold. But there were mysteries left in the past that the story would dip back into at key moments, and these two timelines came together to tell a single, cohesive story.
There were some brutal moments in the flashback timeline, right from 3 Body Problem’s premiere episode. I’m not especially familiar with the history of China and its cultural revolution, but from what I can tell, these kinds of “struggle sessions” were commonplace during the Mao regime. Seeing one unfold in such brutal fashion was pretty hard-hitting, and while the series didn’t spend a lot of time on this, the themes of authoritarianism and later environmentalism as driving forces motivating Ye, Evans, and other characters were an important part of the way the story was constructed.
Ye Wenjie in a flashback sequence.
Despite great performances by Jonathan Pryce and Ben Schnetzer (as older and younger versions of the character respectively), Mike Evans is perhaps a character who needed a bit more screen time. I found the devotion to the “Lord” to be suitably creepy – and reminiscent of more than one real-world cult – but Evans’ transformation from wide-eyed environmental activist to oil company executive seemed pretty abrupt. And there wasn’t a lot in the flashback sequences that I felt really informed his steadfast devotion; why had he taken to worshipping the San-Ti so fervently?
And while we’re nitpicking: how had the San-Ti been communicating for (presumably) years or decades with Evans and his followers, placed spies on Earth… but didn’t understand the difference between fiction and truth, nor understand how humans are capable of lying? It seems like something they should’ve figured out a long time ago, but they didn’t until just the right moment for other narrative beats to play out. It’s not the worst contrivance in the world… and we could certainly make the case that it’s just another example of how truly different and “alien” the San-Ti are in their way of thinking. But as a story beat… it was perhaps the biggest point at which I felt the series could’ve benefitted from another couple of episodes.
Mike Evans and the San-Ti had been communicating for years.
One thing I wasn’t expecting in a sci-fi series like 3 Body Problem was a realistic depiction of someone grappling with a terminal illness – but through the character of Will, the show delivered precisely that. Will’s storyline was incredibly emotional as he came to terms with the ending of his life, his regrets, and the things he’d left unsaid. I could’ve happily spent eight episodes just with Will and his friends – without any of the sci-fi shenanigans going on in the background. That’s how powerful I found those sequences to be. I’m not terminally ill, but I have health issues that I have to live with every day – and I found Will a truly relatable character as he saw his health decline.
There was, of course, a narrative pay-off to Will’s cancer diagnosis, and I liked the way in which 3 Body Problem tied all of its characters and story arcs together. Will seemed to be disconnected from the main storyline of the series much of the time, talking to the other main characters but not really involved with the plan to defend against the San-Ti. Not until the last moment! Will’s sacrifice and the revelation that the mission was a failure was genuinely heartbreaking, especially when all seemed to be going to plan.
Will in his hospital bed.
Along with Will was the character of Saul, played by Jovan Adepo. I really enjoyed Adepo’s performance, as he brought the character to life and made him feel relatable and real. Starting as a junior researcher, Saul’s story took him through the San-Ti plot to become appointed as one of the “Wallfacers” – a unique kind of defender of Earth. The fact that he didn’t want the role was also a really relatable moment; he felt he’d been plucked from obscurity and given an impossible task. There’s a kind of wish-fulfilment fantasy in this kind of storyline; who among us hasn’t wanted, even just for a moment in the back of our minds, for someone to come along and whisk us away on an adventure, or to be told that we’re being appointed as one of the saviours of all humanity?
Rounding out the main characters were Auggie, Jin, and Raj. I liked how the story began with Auggie’s nano-fibre start-up and then, after seeming to move away from that, brought it back in spectacular fashion. That was one of the moments where I felt every piece of this story had been carefully planned, with characters and storylines being built up with purpose. Jin was perhaps the most emotional of the main characters – though there’s competition for that title! She served as our point-of-view character at several key moments, and seeing some of these events unfold from her perspective elevated them.
Jin in the San-Ti’s virtual world.
Raj was arguably the least-developed of the main characters; he served a narrative function but didn’t really get enough screen time to really shine – nor did he get any independent storylines. He was tied to either Jin’s story or the show’s main storyline, and in those capacities he helped move things along without really breaking out on his own. Any story has characters like this, I suppose, and it’s not really a criticism as much as an observation.
The depiction of Wade’s organisation – a three-letter acronym that I honestly couldn’t remember off the top of my head – as being almost everywhere, knowing almost everything felt like a bit of a stretch. As a commentary on government agencies that spy on or observe their citizens I think it could’ve been interesting, perhaps even making a comparison with the “secret police” of Maoist China as seen in the flashbacks. But 3 Body Problem didn’t really do that, and the seemingly limitless resources of the PDC/PIA were not really given a satisfactory explanation in-universe. Nor was it readily apparent why Wade was chosen to be in charge of Earth’s defence against the San-Ti. Minor points, perhaps, in the context of the story. But you know me: I can’t help nitpicking sometimes!
Wade and his organisation felt overpowered, somehow.
So that was 3 Body Problem. I had a fantastic time with the series; it’s undoubtedly the best show I’ve seen in 2024 so far, and probably the best new sci-fi property that I’ve seen going back several years. My biggest fear right now is that it gets cancelled by Netflix before it can conclude its story, because that would be a real tragedy. 3 Body Problem is reportedly an expensive production, and Netflix has been very quick to swing the proverbial axe with shows and films that don’t meet its sky-high expectations. So I admit that I’m worried about that.
With that significant caveat out of the way, however, I genuinely fell in love with this mysterious, grounded, and fascinating tale of humanity’s first contact with a strange extraterrestrial race. I could’ve happily entertained another eight or ten episodes this season, digging even more deeply into this rich and complex story. Basing major plot points on real-world science, without resorting to fantastical technologies that are basically “space magic” kept 3 Body Problem feeling realistic and mature; grown-up sci-fi of the best kind.
I will be keeping my fingers crossed for that second-season renewal, and if Season 2 does get produced I hope you’ll come back in 2025 or 2026 for my review! 3 Body Problem was great, and I highly recommend it.
3 Body Problem is available to stream now on Netflix. 3 Body Problem is the copyright of Netflix, The Three Body Universe, T-Street, and/or Plan B Entertainment. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Spoiler Warning: Minor spoilers are present for The Fall of the House of Usher.
Over the weekend I binge-watched Netflix’s The Fall of the House of Usher. The miniseries is based loosely on the works of American author and poet Edgar Allan Poe, and it seemed like an appropriate watch for the spookiest month of the year. Although I’m by no means a horror aficionado, I enjoyed what this new adaptation had to offer.
Edgar Allan Poe may be well-known in the United States, but he isn’t an author that I’m especially familiar with. Poe’s works aren’t on the curriculum in British schools – or at least they weren’t in the ’80s and ’90s when I was at school. The first time I became aware of anything to do with Poe, in fact, was when an adaptation of his poem The Raven made it into The Simpsons episode Treehouse of Horror! So I’m by no means an expert on the source material for The Fall of the House of Usher.
No, not that Usher…
The first thing to say is that The Fall of the House of Usher is not a straight adaptation of the short story of the same name. Rather, the series is an amalgamation of several of Poe’s poems and stories, bringing different works and characters together. The miniseries also abandons the 19th Century for a modern-day setting, and incorporates modern plot points and themes along with those lifted from Poe’s work.
I’m in two minds about this kind of “not-an-adaptation.” On the one hand, as The Fall of the House of Usher proves, taking a story or body of work as the basis for something new can lead to a perfectly enjoyable and entertaining story. On the other hand, though, taking such liberties with the source material basically makes The Fall of the House of Usher its own distinct story – so why did it need to use Poe’s name and characters? It’s a strange thing, in a way – this is a story that could, under the right circumstances, have stood on its own two feet. At its core, The Fall of the House of Usher is kind of like Succession meets Final Destination – a slasher movie in which the family members of a wealthy businessman are picked off one by one.
Mary McDonnell as Madeline Usher.
Despite its modern setting taking The Fall of the House of Usher far away from Poe’s original works, I did feel a distinctly Poe-like atmosphere throughout the miniseries. Poe is renowned for creating tension, and the way in which the miniseries built towards its characters’ grisly deaths definitely hit the right notes in that regard. The downside of that is that these deaths – and even the manner in which they would happen – was telegraphed ahead of time, robbing the climax of each episode of at least some of its drama and fear factor.
The Fall of the House of Usher had a compelling main character in Roderick Usher, and Bruce Greenwood’s performance is to be commended, as is that of Zach Gilford, who played the character in flashback sequences. The Usher twins both made for entertaining characters, in fact; villains whose schemes were slowly revealed over the course of the story. The same can’t be said for all of the other characters, however, including several of the Usher children.
Bruce Greenwood put in a great performance as Roderick Usher.
Part of the theme of the miniseries was to show how wealth, extravagance, and privilege lead to a twisted and self-centred worldview. But with six Usher descendants to create, each of which seemed to embody a different aspect of priviliged debauchery, there wasn’t a lot of time for subtlety in all of these characters. Several of them felt pretty flat and one-dimensional, present to serve a narrative function rather than to be interesting and well-rounded characters in their own right. The characters who were snuffed out in the first couple of episodes in particular fell victim to this, in part because there really wasn’t much time to build up any sense of personality before they had to be killed off.
At the heart of the story was the idea of a “deal with the devil,” an ancient morality tale that has become a trope of the fantasy and horror genres in modern times. This part of the story was one I found a little confusing, though – and it’s quite possible that I’m just not getting it or that I missed something. But, without getting too deep into spoiler territory, by the time the main characters have made their Faustian bargain, they had already committed to going down a dark path.
Madeline and Roderick made a “deal with the devil.”
Verna, the entity responsible for cutting the deal and coming to collect over the course of the story, spoke multiple times about an “alternate” life that the twins and their families might’ve led. But it seems to me that by the time she got to them and made her deal, they’d already betrayed a friend, committed a crime, and taken too many steps down a dark path to possibly turn back. Her bargain may have shielded them from consequences – but did it alter their paths so much?
You’ll have to see what you think after watching The Fall of the House of Usher, but for me, that point certainly left me feeling confused as the credits rolled on the final episode!
What did you think of Verna’s offer?
In terms of production values, The Fall of the House of Usher is on par with what you’d expect from a flagship streaming project in 2023. There were a handful of moments across the miniseries’ eight episodes where I felt either CGI or practical effects weren’t quite reaching the level I’d want to see, but they were few and far between. By and large, it was a good-looking series.
There were some digital and practical effects for gory moments and deaths that looked genuinely agonising, and with these moments tending to be the climactic points of each episode, it was important for The Fall of the House of Usher to get them right. I don’t think it’s unfair to compare the brutality of some of the deaths to a film like Final Destination, and several of them had a kind of twisted theme of poetic “justice,” as Verna used a character’s own traits, skills, or sins against them.
Brace yourself for some gruesome and gory moments!
I was surprised to see Mark Hamill outside of the Star Wars franchise – but he did a great job as the shadowy and dangerous lawyer Arthur Pym. Along with the twins and Verna, who was played by actress Carla Gugino, Pym was perhaps the character who felt most lifelike. Many stories – real and fictional – incorporate someone like Pym, and Hamill did a great job at breathing life into someone so fearsome and shady.
As the United States continues to wrangle with an epidemic of opioid addiction, I think we’re going to see more works of fiction that aim to have something to say about the subject. For my money, this aspect of The Fall of the House of Usher wasn’t its strongest suit. It could feel, at points, that the Usher family’s unethical pharmaceutical company and its responsibility for addictive opiate medication was a mere backdrop for other events to play out in front of. Given the severity of the issue, and its lack of prominence in the news in general, this wasn’t great.
The miniseries didn’t always seem to know what to do with its pharmaceutical story.
I didn’t feel that The Fall of the House of Usher had a point to make about opioid addiction that hasn’t already been made. People who have followed the story know that certain drug companies are absolutely responsible – and are continuing to get away with it. The miniseries brings this up, thinking itself to have made a profound statement… but doesn’t really go anywhere with it except to kill off the characters it deems most responsible. There’s something satisfying about that in a kind of anti-billionaire way, but it’s surface-level storytelling without a lot of depth.
Although Poe’s poetry was present throughout the miniseries – and was well-recited and incorporated into the story – there were a couple of places where characters spoke lines written by (or heavily adapted from) Poe’s original work. These moments stuck out to me, and I felt the lines in question were just a bit clunky. The poetic language of the 19th Century clashes with the modern American vernacular used for the majority of the script, so these handful of lines felt out-of-place.
Restored daguerreotype of author and poet Edgar Allan Poe, c. 1849.
I’m someone who’s not a big fan of horror – and of jumpscares in particular. Jumpscares always manage to get me, even when I know they’re coming, and I’ve never enjoyed that feeling. The Fall of the House of Usher has several prominent jumpscares – but they were few enough in number across the eight episodes that I didn’t feel they got in the way of my enjoyment. The slower buildup of tension and the dramatic turns in the story were more my style, and I had a good time with that side of the miniseries.
For a fan of horror who’s seeking something fast-paced and with a lot of adrenaline rushes, maybe The Fall of the House of Usher would feel a little too slow. That’s definitely not my take – but I can absolutely see it being a fair point of criticism for someone whose tastes are different from my own.
Samantha Sloyan as Tamerlane “Tammy” Usher.
So let’s wrap things up!
The Fall of the House of Usher was an entertaining horror-drama well-suited to this time of year. In an era of franchises and spin-offs, I’m glad that Netflix was able to be convinced to put money into a one-and-done miniseries instead of trying to pad things out and push for a second season. For me, the pacing of the miniseries as a whole was spot-on, and trying to stretch it out too much would’ve been to its detriment.
There was a wonderful musical score backing up solid visual effects and some fine acting performances from both familiar faces and newcomers. And at its core, The Fall of the House of Usher was atmospheric, capturing the essence of Edgar Allan Poe’s work – even as it stepped away from its source material to carve its own path. It perhaps wasn’t as clever as it aimed to be, particularly with its core messages about decadence, billionaires, and the pharmaceutical industry – but not every TV show has to come with a morality play and a message. I enjoyed The Fall of the House of Usher for what it was, and I’m happy to recommend it to anyone looking for something a little bit supernatural and spooky as Halloween draws near.
The Fall of the House of Usher is available to stream now on Netflix. The Fall of the House of Usher is the copyright of Intrepid Pictures and/or Netflix, and the works of Edgar Allan Poe are now in the public domain. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Back in 2021, I watched and generally enjoyed Amazon Prime Video’s The Wheel of Time adaptation. I’d read the first couple of books in the series, and although it was a long time ago and I couldn’t remember many of the details of the story, I was still interested to see what a studio with Amazon’s means could bring to the fantasy realm. In the aftermath of the success of Game of Thrones, many studios were scrounging around for fantasy properties to adapt! I was pleased with the result in 2021.
The Wheel of Time has just returned to our screens after a break of almost two years – and it’s this scheduling that I want to talk a bit about today. The Wheel of Time’s first season ran to a scant eight episodes, which isn’t out of the norm for streaming shows these days, but is still a lot shorter than a typical television show from years gone by. But a short run of episodes combined with a very long break in between seasons has meant that I’ve basically forgotten all of what happened last time – and I almost missed The Wheel of Time’s return entirely. It was only when I saw an advertising banner splashed across Amazon’s homepage that I even remembered the series existed.
Promo poster for The Wheel of Time Season 2.
This is far from an isolated example. Amazon’s Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power also ran for eight episodes in its first season – and also looks set to take a break of at least eighteen months before its second season will be ready. The same is true of shows like The Witcher and Stranger Things on Netflix or Paramount+’s Halo adaptation. These long breaks, when combined with short seasons, are actually doing a lot of harm to these shows – and I’m surprised that none of the big streaming companies have caught on yet.
The pandemic was a major disruptive force across the entertainment industry, shutting down or prolonging many productions. And I get that – I really do. The knock-on effects of that disruption are still being felt, and while that partially explains some of these long breaks, that’s not the whole story. Made-for-streaming shows like The Wheel of Time just aren’t interested in deadlines and schedules any more, and I think that’s to their detriment.
Still waiting on that second season of Halo…
Most viewers of any series are not hard-core fans. The vast majority of a show’s audience are casual viewers, folks who tune in while the show is running but don’t spend too much time thinking about it after the credits have rolled on the season finale. Those people basically pay for a production and determine whether or not it will be a success, so keeping them engaged is vitally important. It’s great when a show can be “made for the fans,” but the reality is that most viewers will never be in that hard-core category.
When a series disappears for almost two years, the way The Wheel of Time did, it makes it so much harder to retain the kind of casual audience that it relies on. I would generally consider myself to be someone who likes fantasy, and I ranked The Wheel of Time as being one of my favourite shows of 2021… but even I’m struggling to remember who’s who and what happened last time. It’s just been so long, and I’ve had other things to watch since. Sure, my ageing, addled brain isn’t as switched-on as some people’s might be… but that’s beside the point!
Who’s this again?
With shorter seasons of ten, eight, or even six episodes becoming increasingly common, it’s more important than ever for shows to not wait too long in between seasons. It’s also worthwhile, in my opinion, for streaming platforms to release shows at roughly the same time of year – at least the same season. There’s no need for rigid schedules on a streaming platform in the way there used to be on broadcast television, but if people get used to watching a particular show in the spring or the autumn, sticking with that for future seasons makes a lot of sense to me.
This must sound like a very long-winded way of saying “oops, I forgot that The Wheel of Time was a thing!” But this phenomenon goes beyond one single series or even one single streaming platform. There are perfectly understandable reasons for productions to be disrupted – whether we’re talking about the pandemic, the recent writers’ and actors’ strikes, or something else – and I’m not trying to single out Amazon or The Wheel of Time unfairly. I just really feel that these long breaks are to the detriment of practically every series and make it much harder to retain viewers.
SAG-AFTRA and WGA members on strike in 2023.
One of the benefits of the “streaming wars” over the past few years has been a glut of high-quality, big-budget entertainment on the small screen. Now I’ll be the first to tell you that not all of these shows were enjoyable, but some have been outstanding. With advancements in technology meeting a corporate need to drive and retain subscribers, the past few years have seen some of the best-looking television shows ever made. And that’s fantastic.
But when these shows disappear for years at a time – after only running to a handful of episodes – it becomes increasingly difficult to keep up. There’s a lot of choice of what to watch right now, even in genres that used to be considered small niches like fantasy. Studios like Amazon have to do better at keeping production and post-production schedules tight so that these kinds of long breaks can be avoided, especially if they only want to produce eight episodes in a season.
The Wheel of Time is produced by Amazon Studios.
So The Wheel of Time is back – and it’s already been renewed for a third season, so I guess we shouldn’t worry about the series being abandoned! But I hope Season 3 will be able to premiere in 2024, not 2025 or 2026. I’m only just beginning to figure out who’s who and what’s what all over again, and the last thing I need is for the series to disappear for nigh-on two years again!
As the streaming wars continue to rage, the studios that manage to get a grip on this situation will do well. Rigid schedules may no longer be necessary, and the flexibility that streaming allows for is, I would argue, a net positive for television production overall. But scheduling still matters, and taking two years to produce a single eight-episode season feels excessive. Worse than that, I fear it will prove harmful to any show’s prospects. Streaming services don’t only need to be concerned with signing up new subscribers, they need to worry about retaining current subscribers – and making sure that the shows people are watching don’t vanish for long periods of time is going to be part of that.
This was a bit of a whine; I’m sorry about that! And The Wheel of Time isn’t the only offender, it just happened to be the best recent example of this phenomenon. I do enjoy the series… I just hope I won’t have to wait so long for the next season. Time’s marching on, after all!
The Wheel of Time is available to stream now on Amazon Prime Video. Season 1 is also available for purchase on DVD/Blu-ray. The Wheel of Time is the copyright of Amazon Studios and Amazon Prime Video. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
If you’re a Netflix subscriber, there’s a major change coming to the subscription service that you may need to take note of. Netflix has begun rolling out a new update that is supposed to clamp down on “password sharing,” i.e. where people in different households share a single Netflix account. What this means is that if you have relatives or friends who use your Netflix login, things are going to get a lot more complicated.
Essentially, Netflix will begin forcing all of its users to designate one network as their “home” network, and all devices using that Netflix account will have to log in on that home network at least once a month. If they don’t, or if Netflix’s algorithm suspects that there’s a case of “freeloading,” as the company has insultingly termed it, additional verification may be required – such as entering a code sent to the registered email address.
Look at that little freeloader. Makes me sick…
There is a solution, though, for all of you “freeloaders” out there! Netflix will very generously allow you to continue to share your password – for a fee, naturally. In Chile, Peru, and Costa Rica, where this scheme is being trialled, the additional charge will be $2.99 (approx. £2.44 here in the UK). Inventing a problem or inconvenience in order to sell a solution is a business model as old as time itself, but there are good reasons to think that it won’t work in this case.
The mistaken assumption that Netflix is making is the same fundamental misunderstanding that the music industry made in the early 2000s when Napster and other sharing sites first rose to prominence: that for every password shared, they’re missing out on a subscriber. The music industry incorrectly assumed that every download was akin to a CD not being sold, and Netflix is making the same basic mistake more than twenty years later.
Netflix is making the same mistake as the music industry did in the early 2000s.
This is desperation from Netflix, as the company clearly has no idea how to gain more subscribers in an increasingly competitive streaming market. Rather than trying to reach new groups of people by creating or licensing films and shows that would appeal to them, Netflix is banking on the flawed notion that this crackdown will lead to millions of new subscribers. It won’t.
Most folks who access Netflix via a friend or family member’s account won’t magically be transformed into new subscribers by this move. And the aggressive, insulting way that the company has approached it is even likely to turn people away – being compared to pirates and being called “freeloaders” is not a great way to win support for what was always going to be a controversial move.
It must be some kind of visual metaphor…
Netflix has been upset with password sharing for a long time, but the truth is that it has been a huge benefit to the company. It’s very hard to put a price on the kind of chatter and buzz that some of Netflix’s shows have attracted on social media, and in part that’s been possible because of, not in spite of, password sharing.
Let’s break it down. Password sharing means more folks have access to Netflix – potentially tens of millions more people are able to watch the shows and films that Netflix has created and licensed. Practically all of those folks use social media, and when they see something they like, they hop online to talk about it. Hashtags trend on Twitter, Facebook posts get more likes, Instagram pictures get more comments, and so on. The resultant online buzz hypes up shows, leading to more and more people becoming aware of them, wanting to watch them, and in turn, signing up for Netflix.
Netflix’s Wednesday is one example of a series that blew up thanks to social media.
Netflix shows as diverse as Wednesday, Tiger King, and Squid Game have all blown up in the last few years. Why is that? Because of the conversations they prompted on social media, with many “freeloaders” joining in those conversations, amplifying them, and spreading Netflix’s brand to a wider audience. This is the power of social media – and doing anything at all that cuts off potential viewers can be catastrophic.
I’ve made this exact same argument from the other side in relation to Paramount+ and the Star Trek franchise. Because Paramount+ has been so slow to arrive in practically every country outside of the United States, it’s been much, much more difficult for any of the platform’s shows, including the renewed Star Trek franchise, to gain much attention online. Because most folks can’t watch these shows, they don’t talk about them. Hashtags don’t trend, posts reach a smaller audience, and the resultant lack of online chatter harms Paramount+ in the United States as well as around the world.
Paramount+ already has this problem, and Netflix should take note.
Netflix is about to make the same mistake. By cutting off potentially tens of millions of viewers from its platform, Netflix won’t only fail to pick up new subscribers, it’ll almost certainly see its big investments fall well short of expectations. It will be much more difficult in the months and years ahead for another Wednesday or Squid Game to take the online world by storm, because with an audience that’ll be tens of millions of people smaller, those shows won’t gain as much attention.
We’ve been able to see for a long time that the streaming market is becoming oversaturated, with too many corporations all chasing the same audience using the same business model. Quite a few of these streaming services are not long for this world, and by the end of the decade – if not sooner – we should expect to see many failures and closures.
We should expect to see more streaming services go the way of CNN+ in the months and years ahead.
Netflix felt like a behemoth, an unassailable juggernaut at the pinnacle of the streaming game. And why shouldn’t it? Netflix was the pioneer of this business model, and its success is what directly led to the creation of Disney+, Paramount+, Apple TV+, and many of these other platforms as they sought to imitate its success.
But Netflix has become vulnerable, and this attempt to clamp down on “freeloaders” shows just how desperate the company is. Its position as the market leader has been challenged, and its ongoing success is no longer assured. It’s not inconceivable any more that Netflix might end up as one of the casualties in the “streaming wars” – something that would have seemed impossible not so long ago.
Netflix’s old logo.
Netflix needs to walk this back and apologise – today, if possible. Treating its own audience so badly, with terms like “freeloaders” being thrown around, is appalling, and this money-grubbing move was always destined to end in failure. Netflix is in a better position than many companies in this market, and is still a synonym for “streaming” in many households. But even brand names that are so well-known that they enter the popular lexicon can still end up failing – just ask Skype about that!
For a long time, Netflix was almost the default streaming platform that people would pick up. A good mix of films, television shows, original content, and more was a tempting offer – especially for the price. But as Netflix continues to jack up its prices and behave in ways that aren’t consumer-friendly (to say the least) its reputation is slipping. As more companies enter the market – and crucially, reclaim or even buy back their own properties – Netflix feels diminished. This attack on password sharing is a symptom, not the root of the problem.
Netflix is an increasingly expensive platform in a crowded market.
I dumped my Netflix subscription last year, when the platform lost the Star Trek franchise to Paramount+. There haven’t been many Netflix projects in that time I felt were must-watch events… and that’s the platform’s biggest problem by far. It needs to get a good mix of older and newer content, and create shows that people actually want to watch. Cancelling popular shows because they didn’t generate new subscribers in large numbers is kind of missing the point – Netflix is in a position right now where retaining current subscribers, and convincing lapsed ones to rejoin, is a much more pressing concern.
So that’s what’s going on. Be aware that Netflix plans to implement this change if you still use the platform, and it’s probably also worth keeping an eye on the streaming market. It could be a very interesting year!
Wait… does this mean there could finally be an opening for Paramount+ to take the world by storm? Nah!
This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers ahead for Star Trek: Discovery Seasons 1-4, Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, Star Trek: Picard, and Star Trek: Prodigy.
In 2017, Star Trek returned to the small screen after a twelve-year break. Star Trek: Discovery picked up the baton for the long-running franchise, and thanks in part to a deal with Netflix, scored a decently high budget for its first season. Bryan Fuller, who had written and produced a number of episodes of Deep Space Nine and Voyager, initially spearheaded the project, and it was on his stories and ideas that the show’s characters, story arcs, and settings were based – even though he stopped working on the show while it was still in early production.
Discovery proved controversial in some corners of the Star Trek fan community right from the start, and today I want to consider one of the reasons why that was the case. In addition, I want to ask a deceptively simple set of questions: should Star Trek: Discovery have left the 23rd Century alone? Would the show have been better-received by fans, and won more support, if it had been set after the events of Nemesis instead of a decade before The Original Series? Would fans have found things to pick on and argue about anyway? Was Discovery’s setting in its first two seasons a net positive, negative, or something mixed for the show? And did sending the ship and crew into the far future at the end of Season 2 come as a tacit admission from the producers and showrunners that Discovery should never have been set in the 23rd Century to begin with?
The first glimpse fans caught of the USS Discovery in a 2016 teaser.
Before we go any further, a few important caveats. This is a controversial topic; Discovery elicits strong opinions from fans on both sides of the debate. The fact that we’re considering, hypothetically, whether Discovery might’ve been a better show – or might’ve been received with less hostility by fans – had it employed a different setting doesn’t mean it’s a perfect idea that would’ve massively improved its first two seasons. Regular readers will know that I’m a Discovery fan not a hater; while there are areas where the show could improve, generally I like and support it and I’m glad to have it as part of the broader Star Trek franchise.
Secondly, these are just the subjective thoughts of one person. I’m not trying to claim that I’m right and that’s the end of the affair! Other folks can and will have different opinions – and that’s okay! There’s room enough within the Star Trek fan community for polite discussion and disagreement.
Finally, I’m not trying to attack Discovery, nor any of the creative team, actors, or those involved in its production. This is a thought experiment; a hypothetical question to consider what Discovery – and the wider Star Trek franchise – might have looked like if different decisions had been taken at a very early stage.
Behind the scenes during production on Discovery Season 1.
First of all, let’s consider some of the arguments and points of contention. By deliberately choosing a setting ten years before the events of The Original Series, Discovery ran into some issues with Star Trek’s internal canon. Some of these points matter far more than others, and I tend to take a somewhat nuanced approach to canon. I’m not a “purist,” claiming that the tiniest minutiae of canon must be “respected” at all costs – but at the same time, I believe that the world of Star Trek needs to be basically internally consistent. Internal consistency is the foundation of suspension of disbelief, and messing too much with established canon can, in some circumstances, be to the detriment of a story.
Is that what happened with Discovery, though?
We can set aside arguments about aesthetic elements like uniforms, starship designs, and even special effects. To me, none of those things are relevant, and all that’s necessary to overcome those hurdles is to say that, much like out here in the real world, things like design, fashion, etc. are always changing. Who’s to say that the look of the 2260s wouldn’t be radically different from the 2250s? Considering that there have been leaps and bounds in visual effects, CGI, and cinematography since The Original Series aired, it would be profoundly odd for Discovery to have tried to emulate that 1960s style.
I don’t think anyone seriously wanted or expected Discovery to use this particular look!
So I’m content to put visual style to one side. But there are other elements of canon that the show arguably stumbled over in its first two seasons. The biggest issue that I can see is the USS Discovery’s spore drive – a brand-new piece of technology that had never been seen or heard of in Star Trek before.
The spore drive effectively made warp drive obsolete, and considering that the show was set a decade before Captain Kirk’s five-year mission – and more than a century before The Next Generation era – that obviously didn’t make a lot of sense. Sure, the spore drive was a classified piece of kit, and across Season 1 we came to see some pretty serious drawbacks, but such a phenomenally useful technology isn’t something Starfleet would simply abandon – or so fans believed. Even if the spore drive had issues, it was such a game-changing piece of technology that persevering and working through those problems would almost certainly be worthwhile.
The USS Discovery in Season 1.
As Season 1 demonstrated, the spore drive’s military applications were incredible. The USS Discovery could jump around a Klingon vessel with ease, basically becoming invulnerable, and the spore drive could be used for rapid hit-and-run attacks, destroying enemy ships before they even had a chance to register what was happening. And for an exploration-focused organisation, the spore drive opened up the entire galaxy, allowing distant worlds to be visited at a moment’s notice. Planets that were decades away from Federation space by warp drive could be hopped to in an instant, and then the USS Discovery and her crew could be back home in time for tea! We saw this in Season 2, with planets like Terralysium able to be visited easily with a single spore jump – instead of the decades of warp travel that would have normally been required.
To the show’s credit, Discovery found uses for the spore drive in this period – but I confess that I found the spore drive to be a gimmick, one that had been clearly and pretty obviously designed to allow the ship to travel to the Mirror Universe in Season 1. In fact, it’s the Mirror Universe – and more specifically, the idea of having an impostor from that parallel world who was trying to blend in and find a way home – that I would argue led to many of the decisions in Discovery’s early production.
Having a Terran character was clearly important to Discovery’s creative team when building the story of Season 1.
Choosing a Mirror Universe character in Captain Lorca arguably determined when Discovery would need to be set. In order for Lorca to be a soldier of the Terran Empire, Discovery would have to be set in an era where the Terran Empire existed – and as Mirror Universe stories in Deep Space Nine categorically established that the Terran Empire had long since fallen by the 24th Century, in order to return to that setting, stepping back to the 23rd Century was required. If having a Terran impostor was one of the first narrative beats written for the season – and I believe it was – then many other elements of the show had to be built around that, including its 23rd Century setting.
As an aside, I would say that the Mirror Universe really isn’t worth all this fuss and bother! It’s a bit of fun for occasional, one-off stories in longer, more episodic seasons, but building an entire story around the Mirror Universe and Terran characters was probably Discovery’s first mistake. This is a setting that easily falls into overacting and pantomime, with one-dimensional villains who love murder, torture, and murderous torture all for their own sake. There’s very little room for manoeuvre in the Mirror Universe, and as we’ve seen in Discovery – and in past iterations of Star Trek too, to be fair – it can trick even competent actors into putting out incredibly over-the-top, hammy performances.
This is what we’d call “a case in point.”
But that’s my own personal lack of interest in the Mirror Universe showing through, I suppose!
When Star Trek: Picard’s second season premiered, I think it brought to the table something incredibly interesting that’s relevant to this conversation: the Confederation timeline. The Confederation wasn’t the Terran Empire, and its setting wasn’t the Mirror Universe, yet it borrowed a lot from that setting both thematically and stylistically. An authoritarian, fascist dystopia was on full display – and it was in the late 24th/early 25th Century, and managed to be there without treading on the toes of anything that had been previously set up in past iterations of the franchise.
Although the Confederation timeline story was a bit of a misfire in Picard, I think it stands as testament to what’s possible with a little creative thinking. Star Trek doesn’t have to keep going back to the same previously-established time periods and settings, and even in those that are superficially similar, new and different creations can be brought to the screen. Very few things in Discovery would have needed to change had the show’s first season adopted a setting inspired by the Mirror Universe instead of lifting it directly from The Original Series.
The Confederation timeline established in Picard Season 2 shows how a new Mirror Universe-inspired setting could work.
And that statement could apply to other elements of the show’s production as well. The idea of a protagonist who was human but raised by Vulcans is a fun and interesting one, a character type that was new to Star Trek – if we don’t count the PC game Hidden Evil, that is! What would have changed about Michael Burnham had her adoptive parents not been Sarek and Amanda but two new Vulcan characters?
Spock’s family is something that Star Trek has messed about with more than once! We could even argue that, as far back as Journey to Babel, it was nonsensical to suggest that Spock’s connection to Sarek would be something that Captain Kirk would have been unaware of. But setting that aside, the film The Final Frontier gave Spock a half-brother who had never been mentioned. Adding Michael Burnham to his family felt, to some fans at least, like yet another retcon; an addition that certainly came very close to treading on the toes of Star Trek’s past because of how closely it involved a very familiar character.
The decision to make Michael Burnham Spock’s adopted sister was criticised in some quarters.
It was clear that Discovery’s writers and creators wanted to tie the show to past iterations of Star Trek, but rather than coming across as respectful homage, some of these decisions felt nakedly commercial – it was as if CBS didn’t trust the Star Trek brand to stand on its own without myriad references and close connections to its earlier iterations. This didn’t sit well with a lot of fans, and when Spock had already had a missing half-brother, giving him an adopted sister who he’d also never mentioned began to feel gratuitous.
And for a lot of folks, it came back to that same argument: what would change about this new character if her parents were inspired by Sarek and Spock’s family? The introduction of Spock in Season 2 definitely shook things up in that regard, but by then a lot of the damage had been done and some fans had already decided not to tune in.
Sarek and Amanda in Season 2.
Going all the way back to The Next Generation’s creation in 1987, Star Trek had struck out in bold new directions and tried to do things differently. Every Star Trek show prior to Discovery had cameo appearances, name-checks, and even character crossovers in some episodes, but by and large, the franchise’s different shows stood up by themselves. Would The Next Generation have been improved if the captain of the Enterprise-D had been Kirk’s grandson, for instance? I don’t think anyone would make that case – the show needed the freedom to do its own thing away from those familiar characters. And while Deep Space Nine’s premiere, Emissary, brought Captain Picard on board, thereafter the new series also struck out on its own – as did Voyager and Enterprise when they came along.
For some fans, Discovery crossed a line between finding a connection to what had come before and using it as a crutch, and where past iterations of the Star Trek franchise had been connected to one another through common themes, locales, and even characters, none had ever gone back to retroactively change so many different things as Discovery. Coming off the back of the three Kelvin timeline films – which were also controversial in some quarters because they had re-cast the characters from The Original Series – that felt like a bridge too far for some folks.
A promo photo for Season 1 showing most of the main cast.
Retcons can happen in any franchise, but it’s not unfair to say that some work better than others. Prequels almost always end up bringing more retcons to the table than sequels do, and when we’re talking about a universe that was over fifty years old and had more than 700 stories under its belt at the time Discovery premiered, for a lot of fans, those retcons to Star Trek’s past were too unpalatable.
The Star Trek franchise, much more so than Star Wars, has always felt like it was looking forwards and to the future rather than backwards at its own past. But by 2017, there hadn’t been any Star Trek stories that moved the overall timeline of the franchise forwards in fifteen years. Aside from a short sequence in 2009’s Star Trek reboot film (which told us of the destruction of Romulus), everything that the franchise had done since Nemesis and Voyager’s finale had been a prequel.
By 2017, everything Star Trek had done for fifteen years was a prequel or reboot.
After Enterprise had underperformed and the franchise faced cancellation, the Kelvin timeline came along and rebooted things. But both projects proved to be controversial in some quarters – fans were clearly less keen on a prequel show, as Enterprise’s viewing figures demonstrated. And while the Kelvin films were successful with general audiences at the cinema, there were many Trekkies who were unimpressed with the new action-oriented approach and the decision to recast fan-favourite characters.
Along came Discovery – and it incorporated many of the same issues. Here was another prequel, another Star Trek project that was stepping back in time and not taking the opportunity to pick up the story of the Star Trek universe that had come to an abrupt halt with Nemesis. And not only that, but it then emerged that the show’s protagonist would be a hitherto-unknown relative of one of Star Trek’s most iconic characters – a character whose history and family had already been messed with on more than one occasion.
Spock in The Original Series Season 1.
In 2016, I recall making the facetious point that Discovery seemed to be combining everything that Trekkies didn’t like: a plot point from The Final Frontier – which is widely regarded as one of the least-successful Star Trek films, a prequel setting like in Enterprise – which had demonstrably been the least-successful Star Trek series, and both an aesthetic and action focus that were borrowed from the Kelvin timeline films – films which weren’t popular with a lot of fans. That was a joke; some black humour as we looked ahead to the show and as news was trickling out. But I think that it encapsulates how many fans were feeling at the time.
More than anything, I wanted to see Star Trek move forwards again. Despite knowing a number of Trekkies who either hated or outright refused to watch the Kelvin timeline films, I felt that they were decent additions to the franchise. But if Star Trek was to return to both the small screen and the prime timeline, my preference in 2016-17 would have been for a new show to pick up the story in the years after Nemesis, not another prequel set before the events of The Original Series.
Cadet Tilly in a pre-release promotional image.
Discovery’s prequel setting quickly became a weight around its neck; a barrier that didn’t stop the excitement from building, but that certainly slowed it down. On the one hand, the show’s writers and creative team were constrained by more than 600 stories that were set after Discovery, and on the other, everything that they tried to do that was new or different was subject to intense scrutiny and criticism by fans. There was no way to win – either the show would have to tell less-interesting stories as a result of being cornered by canon, or it would be nitpicked to death by fans who felt it was overstepping its bounds and treading on the toes of stories that had already been told.
Had Discovery’s first season been set in the same time period as Star Trek: Picard later was – the late 24th Century or early 25th Century – a lot of those issues would have disappeared. The spore drive could be Starfleet’s new initiative, with its potential unlimited and the genuine possibility of this interesting piece of technology going on to become the Federation’s new way of getting around. We knew, even before a single minute of Discovery had aired, that the spore drive wouldn’t take off in the 23rd Century – because if it had, all of Star Trek wouldn’t be able to exist as depicted. A post-Nemesis setting would have completely negated that issue.
The spore drive was a controversial inclusion in Discovery’s first season.
Then there was the question of character. Michael Burnham could have been exactly the same person – a human raised by Vulcans with Vulcan instincts. But instead of being the second addition to Spock’s increasingly soap opera-like family, her adoptive parents could have been new characters who were inspired by characters from Star Trek’s past, or even Vulcan characters from the 24th Century that we’d met before if an overt connection was deemed necessary. The war with the Klingons could have broken out in much the same way as we saw on screen – all it would have taken is a brief word of explanation saying that the Klingon-Federation alliance of the late 24th Century had broken down in the intervening years.
Star Trek had an opportunity to advance its timeline, and to take into account events like the Romulan supernova. With relatively few changes to how the story of Season 1 played out, it could be the Romulans, not the Klingons, who went to war with Starfleet. Or it could have been that the Klingons wanted to reassert themselves in the aftermath of the Romulan catastrophe, perhaps seizing former Romulan territory as their empire collapsed. And the idea of having an impostor as the ship’s captain – someone from an alternate reality – could have also been made to fit without returning to the Mirror Universe.
Captain Lorca turned out to be from the Mirror Universe.
Discovery could, for example, have taken the idea of a more militaristic Starfleet that had been seen in the Kelvin timeline in Into Darkness as a starting point, and said that the Kelvin timeline would develop into the same kind of dystopian setting as the Mirror Universe. Captain Lorca could have originated from a late 24th Century Kelvin timeline, from a Federation that was much more authoritarian in nature. That would have tied together the two most recent parts of the Star Trek franchise while still leaving open the possibility of a fourth Kelvin film starring the reboot cast.
In short, there were plenty of ways that Bryan Fuller’s initial concepts and ideas could have been made to fit a post-Nemesis setting rather than a pre-The Original Series one. Some changes are bigger than others, and in hindsight we now know that we’d miss out on the recasting of Captain Pike and Spock that paved the way for Strange New Worlds… but at the time, without that foreknowledge, I really do believe that it would have been worth considering.
Star Trek: Discovery creator Bryan Fuller. Image Credit: StarTrek.com
Season 2, which focused on the Control AI, could have also been a good fit for a late 24th/early 25th Century setting. In fact, I doubt I’d be the only one to suggest that the Control story might’ve been a better fit for that time period! This idea of essentially a rogue supercomputer is one that Star Trek has tackled before, with episodes like The Ultimate Computer and even some of the stories about Lore in The Next Generation. Control’s schemes could have absolutely worked in a post-Lore environment.
I’ve talked before about how the Control storyline in Season 2 felt like a potential Borg origin story – or at least a story with superficial Borg similarities. Because of Discovery’s place in the timeline, those references were only ever tiny little hints to us as the audience; no one within the show could say “hey, this looks an awful lot like Borg assimilation” because none of them knew who the Borg were at that point. But if the story had been set in that post-Nemesis era, the similarities between Control and the Borg could have been made more overt – even if a full “Starfleet accidentally created the Borg” story had been taken off the table.
Captain Leland was “assimilated” by the Control AI in Season 2.
At the end of the day, though, Discovery wasn’t only controversial because of its place in the Star Trek timeline, and while replacing its 23rd Century setting would have blunted some points of criticism, fans would have found others. Things like the redesign of the Klingons, the more action-heavy storyline, the show’s shorter serialised seasons and more would all remain, and a potential post-Nemesis setting would’ve probably thrown up a bunch of new things for people to pick on, too.
In hindsight, we now know that if Discovery had been set in the years after Nemesis, we’d have missed out onStrange New Worlds – a show that I’d argue is probably the high-water mark of modern Star Trek, at least at time of writing. That alone should make Discovery and its complicated relationship to canon and Star Trek’s internal timeline absolutely worthwhile!
Strange New Worlds is one of the best things about modern Star Trek – and it wouldn’t have happened without Discovery and its 23rd Century beginnings!
But on the other hand, who knows what we’re missing out on? Potential crossovers with The Next Generation and other 24th Century shows would have been on the table, and while Discovery’s third and fourth seasons have tried to pay lip-service to that era, by shooting so far forward in time, it’s once again ruled out any significant crossovers and link-ups.
In addition to obvious characters like Jean-Luc Picard or Kathryn Janeway, dozens or even hundreds of secondary characters and guest stars from that era could have been incorporated into Discovery to tie Star Trek’s newest adventure to what came before – with fan-favourite characters (and the actors who played them) potentially returning. Picard, Lower Decks, and Prodigy have all shown just how much of an appetite there is within the Star Trek fan community to bring back characters as diverse as Q and Captain Jellico, just to give two examples.
Edward Jellico recently returned in a couple of episodes of Star Trek: Prodigy.
When making those very early decisions about Discovery, one of the fundamental mistakes executives at CBS (now Paramount) and the creative team made is failing to recognise Star Trek’s real “golden age.” The Original Series in the 1960s may have gotten things started – and it’s remembered fondly, don’t get me wrong – but for many fans, especially fans in their thirties and forties, it’s The Next Generation and the other shows of the 1990s that are best-remembered. Discovery jumped back in time to draw inspiration from and connect up with The Original Series… but I’m not sure that’s where the majority of the fan community was in 2017 – or is in 2023, either.
Whatever we may think of the arguments surrounding canon and the so-called integrity of Star Trek’s internal timelines, a more basic question is this: what setting and what era would most Trekkies choose for a new series? There are some fans, of course, who want to see more of Enterprise’s 22nd Century, some who want to see a far future that shoots past the 24th and 25th Centuries, and certainly there are fans for whom the 23rd Century has its own unique appeal. But many, many Trekkies who first came to the franchise during The Next Generation era – myself included – wanted and still want to see Star Trek pick up where it left off after Nemesis and Endgame. That was doubly true in 2017, when the franchise hadn’t touched that time period in fifteen years.
The USS Voyager in Endgame.
When it became apparent that Discovery was going to be yet another prequel – the third in a row – it meant that there was still no chance of the timeline advancing. It meant that the return of fan-favourites from Benjamin Sisko to B’Elanna Torres was completely off the table. And it meant no explanation of the Romulan supernova that had been glimpsed in 2009’s Star Trek. We subsequently got to see some of those things in Picard – but it wasn’t obvious in 2016-17 that that series was going to be made, and there was, in some quarters at least, a sense of disappointment that Star Trek was once again doing this kind of navel-gazing at its own history and backstory instead of moving forward. That planted the seeds of unhappiness for some Trekkies – a seed that would grow as more details were revealed about the series, its setting, its technologies, and its characters.
And I feel that this is really the key point. On their own, many of the criticisms levelled at Discovery in its first season were overblown nitpicks. The spore drive was never considered by the crew of the USS Voyager as a way to get home quicker. Spock didn’t have an adopted sister in that one episode of The Animated Series that aired in 1973. Did the Klingons and the Federation really fight a war in this era? And so on. But those criticisms found fertile ground in the disappointment that fans were already feeling – and the “snowball” started to roll.
I doubt many fans were that upset about Spock not mentioning Michael Burnham in The Animated Series…
This “snowball effect” is something that I’ve talked about before here on the website. In brief, it refers to how a production can find itself subject to more and more points of criticism once a few big ones start to build up. The “snowball” starts rolling, picking up more and more nitpicks and amplifying them. Relatively minor things – like Discovery’s all-blue uniform designs, for example – end up being nitpicked to death in a way that they never would have been in a production that didn’t have those original, fundamental points of criticism to get the “snowball” rolling in the first place.
And that’s what happened with Discovery in 2016-17, in my opinion. Its place in the timeline became the initial source of disappointment for a fanbase that comprised more fans of The Next Generation era than higher-ups at CBS realised. Those fans would have preferred to see a series set after Endgame and Nemesis, and the disappointment they felt began to set the stage for many other points of criticism that, in a different production, would never have been mentioned.
Did the producers at CBS underestimate support in the Star Trek fan community for a post-Nemesis series?
There are, of course, some self-proclaimed “fans” of Star Trek for whom the race and gender of Discovery’s protagonist was the issue. Those people would never have been placated by changes in the show’s setting, and the hate, abuse, and toxicity spewed by that thankfully small section of the show’s audience would have remained regardless. I see no way to avoid that; just as there were viewers in the ’60s who objected to Uhura’s presence on the bridge of the Enterprise, there were some in 2017 who felt that women, people of colour, LGBT+ people, and others shouldn’t be part of “their” entertainment products.
Such folks would often try to cage their attacks in the language of media criticism, using expressions like “bad writing” to criticise Discovery. I think we’re all able to tell the difference, though, and I don’t really see much point in addressing this part of the attacks on the show. It isn’t relevant to what we’re talking about today, as the minority of viewers who objected to Michael Burnham because she was a black woman in a leading role would have felt the same way regardless of when the show was set. The only thing that would have changed would have been the way in which those folks would have tried to cover their tracks when attacking Discovery.
Michael Burnham at the end of Season 1.
When Season 2 rolled around, it wasn’t apparent at first that Discovery’s creative team had taken on board much of the feedback and criticism that had been levelled at the show in its first season. In fact, they seemed to double- and even triple-down on making these overt connections to The Original Series by introducing Captain Pike and Spock.
I have to confess something at this point – something which, in light of how darn good Strange New Worlds was in its first season, I’m quite embarrassed about: I didn’t like the idea of Pike and Spock joining Discovery in 2018-19 when that news broke. I’d been a fan of The Cage since I first watched it, and there was something about Jeffrey Hunter’s portrayal of Pike, and the differences between him and Captain Kirk in particular, that occupied a unique place in Star Trek’s history. Here was an “alternate timeline,” and just like hearing a different version of a familiar song, all the pieces were there, but they were different. Pike stood as this kind of “what-if” for the Star Trek franchise; what might have been if history had taken a different course.
I’ve always had a soft spot for The Cage…
Furthermore, I found Bruce Greenwood’s take on the character in Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness to have been one of the highlights of the Kelvin timeline. Recasting the character so soon after this portrayal wasn’t something that I was wild about either, and I felt that the whole thing rather smacked of desperation on the part of CBS/Paramount; an attempt to bring more eyes to a show that had proven controversial and that probably hadn’t brought in the numbers of subscribers and viewers that they and Netflix had hoped to see.
I was wrong about that, of course – so very, very wrong!
But I wasn’t alone in feeling that way; that Discovery was reaching for a crutch as its second season dawned. Fans who had been left unimpressed by the show in its first season – and particularly at its perceived “violations” of Star Trek’s internal canon – were not looking forward to seeing what would become of Captain Pike, a character who had a certain reverence from at least some in the fan community as Star Trek’s “first” captain, but more importantly of Spock – one of the most important foundational characters in the entire franchise.
Pike and Spock in Season 2.
Whether we agree or not that Discovery’s second season shook up Spock’s characterisation for the better – which is something I absolutely believe it did, by the way – something very interesting happened at the end of that season: Michael Burnham and the USS Discovery left the 23rd Century altogether. Opening a time-wormhole, Burnham led the ship and crew into the far future, and the show has remained in that time period ever since. By the time Season 5 arrives later this year, Discovery will have spent longer in the 32nd Century than it did in the 23rd.
Does that decision stand as an admission from Discovery’s creatives and producers that the 23rd Century was never a good fit for the show? Is it more a case of exasperatedly saying to fans and critics “you wanted us to be set in the future? Well here ya go!” Or is it simply a creative narrative decision that would have been taken regardless of how Seasons 1 and 2 had been received?
Burnham and the USS Discovery heading into the far future.
Let’s rule out that latter point immediately! If Discovery’s place in the timeline was uncontroversial and hadn’t been commented on and criticised from the moment it was announced, we’d have seen Discovery remain in the 23rd Century – I am as certain of that as I can be. The decision to take the series out of the 23rd Century was, at least in some way, a response to these criticisms and/or a way to pre-empt or shut down further such nitpicks.
We’ll have to talk about this in more detail one day, but there’s a phenomenon that I call the “prequel problem” that affects a lot of prequel stories. In short, at the back of our minds as viewers, we know that certain storylines have to end in particular ways; tension, drama, and stakes are all lower in certain prequels – whether we’re conscious of that fact at the time or not. This goes double for a show like Discovery where galactic-scale apocalyptic disasters are the bread-and-butter of its stories.
The Klingon war – especially toward the end of Season 1 – was presented as an existential threat to the Federation.
When it seemed as if Control was going to wipe out all life in the galaxy, we knew that it wasn’t possible. The details of how Pike, Burnham, and the crew were going to prevent it were still to be revealed, but because we’d seen the galaxy in the 24th Century, we knew at the back of our minds that there was no real danger. Likewise with Season 1’s Klingon war – we knew that the Federation wouldn’t be defeated, because we’d seen Captain Kirk’s five-year mission taking place a mere decade after the events depicted in the show. Those “prequel problems” took at least some of the tension out of Discovery’s main narratives – and in a show that wants to turn the tension up to eleven, that’s not ideal to say the least!
If Discovery was the kind of show that told stories that were smaller in scale, we could disregard this point altogether. But for the kind of series Discovery aimed to be, a setting that was constrained by stories set decades and centuries later was problematic – and it had been since day one.
Discovery has always wanted to tell stories with very high stakes; galactic-scale threats.
So let’s start to wrap things up.
The saving grace of Discovery’s 23rd Century beginning is, as I see it anyway, the existence of Strange New Worlds as a spin-off production. Bringing in Captain Pike and Spock proved to be an unexpected masterstroke, thanks in part to some inspired casting. Had Discovery always been set after Nemesis in the late 24th Century, we would never have seen Anson Mount and Ethan Peck take on those roles, and from there we’d never have gotten to see the masterpiece that was Strange New Worlds Season 1. That would have been a huge loss for Star Trek – and I feel that alone more than justifies Discovery’s first two seasons in the 23rd Century.
But it’s clear that being set in this time period caused the show a lot of issues, particularly because of the kind of storytelling it employed. Big, bold stories that focus on end-of-the-world type threats and a serialised framework in which only one or two main stories were told per season combined with a prequel setting to cause some major stumbling blocks. Some of these were bigger than others, and some minor points definitely saw their status overinflated by fans and viewers who were “snowballing” and picking on anything and everything to criticise a series that they already didn’t like. But some of those points of criticism were genuine, and the internal consistency of the Star Trek franchise and its timeline was challenged by some of the narrative decisions that Discovery took.
A promotional image of Discovery’s captain’s chair, from the show’s early marketing campaign.
With Strange New Worlds serving as a huge caveat, I still believe that if I’d been in charge of things in 2016-17, I wouldn’t have created a series set in the 23rd Century. It remains my view that at least a plurality of fans, if not an outright majority, would have preferred to have seen the overall timeline of Star Trek move forwards, and that creating a series set sometime after Endgame and Nemesis would have been the best call. There’s a lot of leeway if all we say is “after Nemesis,” and I’d have entertained pitches and ideas for both the late 24th Century as well as for decades or centuries in the future, far beyond The Next Generation era.
Bearing that in mind, I’d say that practically everything that Discovery did in those first two seasons could and would have worked in a post-Nemesis setting. Some story beats would have had to change to accommodate being set further forwards in time, such as Captain Lorca’s universe of origin. But even if the brief required the creative team to use elements that the Star Trek franchise had already created, I think it would have been possible to tell those same stories in a very similar way.
Captain Lorca and his Terran allies.
The big twist in Discovery’s first season was Captain Lorca’s true identity – but I’m not really convinced that this story beat was worth all the fuss. It was certainly fun and unexpected to find out that the character had crossed over from another universe, and that he was responsible for stranding the ship there as he tried to get home – but after Lorca’s true origin was revealed, his characterisation took a turn for the worse, and he ceased to be the complex, nuanced, hardball Starfleet captain in favour of being a rather one-dimensional villain caricature. So maybe all of this hassle wasn’t even worth it after all!
Season 2 introduced us to Pike and Spock, and set the stage for Strange New Worlds – something which, in hindsight, we know now we’d have missed out on if Discovery didn’t take place in this time period.
Spock and Captain Pike in Strange New Worlds Season 1.
Shooting forwards in time, well past the 24th and 25th Centuries, has allowed Discovery much more creative freedom, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the show’s best episodes have come in the last couple of years rather than in those first two seasons. Even in an established, long-running franchise, writers and creatives need to have the freedom to branch out, to add wholly new elements, and to tell stories that go to completely different thematic places. Some of that was possible in the 23rd Century – and we’ve seen Strange New Worlds succeed in that setting by taking on a more episodic approach – but for the kinds of large-scale, dramatic stories that Discovery wanted to tell, a setting unconstrained by having to fit in with 600+ episodes and films set after the events of the show has undoubtedly opened up a lot more possibilities.
So the question posed is a tough one. Discovery set the stage for Strange New Worlds, and that really is a huge point in favour of its initial 23rd Century setting. But Discovery also reinvigorated the Star Trek franchise for a post-Game of Thrones television landscape, one in which ongoing serialised stories with big, bold storylines was the order of the day. Without Discovery doing what it did in 2017, who knows whether the Star Trek franchise would have continued at all, and whether the likes of Picard, Lower Decks, and Prodigy would have been created as well.
Alex Kurtzman and the Discovery cast with William Shatner and Nichelle Nichols. Image Credit: StarTrek.com
Just like the Kelvin films kept a torch burning for Star Trek and proved that there was life in a franchise that had burned out by 2005, perhaps what we should say about Discovery’s first two seasons is that they led to bigger and (mostly) better things, both for the show itself and for the franchise as a whole. Messing with that too much, or trying to create something “better,” may not have had the desired result!
But all of that is with the benefit of hindsight. In 2016-17, I wasn’t alone in wishing that Star Trek would move forward instead of creating yet another prequel. And it wasn’t possible to know at that time where Discovery might lead or what kind of spin-offs might be created in the years ahead. Although I did enjoy what the show did in its first two seasons overall, for much of the time I couldn’t shake the feeling that these stories would still have worked – and in some ways at least, would have worked far better – if the show was set after Nemesis.
It would ultimately fall to Star Trek: Picard to move the timeline of the franchise forward again.
Furthermore, I feel that Discovery’s producers felt that way too, especially after Bryan Fuller left the project and after the show premiered to a rather divisive reaction in some quarters of the fan community. Some of the people in charge may have underestimated just how detail-oriented some Trekkies can be, and in an age of social media, online fan communities, and continuous discussion and debate, small nitpicks about the series and its relationship to past iterations of Star Trek became amplified, making some of these controversies grow larger.
Any time a franchise expands, it leaves some folks behind. There were always going to be Discovery-haters; folks who, for any one of a number of reasons, didn’t want to see Star Trek doing something new and different. But did the show itself provide ammunition to those critics and others by its 23rd Century setting? Absolutely. Leaving the 23rd Century behind was clearly the right decision, and in some ways we can argue that it came two seasons too late.
Discovery’s logo in Seasons 1 & 2.
So there we have it. In my view, Discovery could and perhaps should have been created as a post-Nemesis series instead of one set before The Original Series. With relatively few tweaks to the stories of its first couple of seasons, the same cast of characters, the same starship designs, the same technologies, and the same narrative beats could have all been present, and perhaps interesting new connections could have been found that would have tied the series into the events and even characters of The Next Generation era.
I hope this was an interesting thought experiment! I’ve been wanting to talk about Discovery’s creation and its early seasons for some time now. Because I only created this website in late 2019 I missed the opportunity to write up my thoughts on Discovery as it was being teased and as those first two seasons were broadcast, so this was an opportunity to step back and begin to rectify that! I hope you won’t interpret this as me “hating” on Discovery. Although I wasn’t wild about every decision taken or every character and storyline, I feel that we got two decent seasons of Star Trek, and a show that certainly wasn’t afraid to try new things. This hypothetical question is really just an opportunity to talk about the series some more and highlight some of what I feel were the key decisions taken during its creation.
I’m glad that Discovery remains a part of a very broad, varied franchise. But I think I’m also glad that the show’s producers took it out of the 23rd Century – not because I’m desperately angry about “the purity of canon” or other such things – but because its new era, free from any such constraints, has allowed for the creation of some genuinely different stories.
Star Trek: Discovery is available to stream now on Paramount+ in the United States, United Kingdom, and other countries and territories where the platform is available. The series is also available on DVD and Blu-ray. The Star Trek franchise – including Discovery and all other properties discussed above – is the copyright of Paramount Global. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers ahead for Munich: The Edge of War and the novel upon which it is based.
Munich: The Edge of War had been on my list of things to watch since last year. It was initially expected to come to Netflix in 2021, but that was pushed back to January 2022. The film made its debut on Netflix a few days ago, and as a history buff I was genuinely interested to see what its take would be on one of the most significant events leading to the outbreak of World War II.
Like many Brits of my generation, I have a family connection to the war. My grandfather served in the British army, having volunteered shortly after the official declaration of war in September 1939. He spent almost four years in a prisoner of war camp after being captured, and my grandmother spent most of the war by herself in London – with bombs raining down! So aside from my general interest in all things historical, I really do feel a family tie to the events of this era.
My grandparents would have been familiar with street scenes like this.
Munich: The Edge of War was not what I was expecting. All I really knew about the film before I sat down to watch it was that it intended to depict the events surrounding the 1938 Munich Agreement, with Jeremy Irons playing the role of now-infamous British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain. But the film used those events as a backdrop rather than the main event, and instead told a fictional story of two junior civil servants, setting up an unexpectedly tense spy thriller with some heavy moments of characterisation and drama.
I’m always a little uncomfortable about fictionalising real-world events. Inserting fictional characters alongside real people – especially people who may still be alive or who may have living relatives – can feel a bit perverse, as if writers and filmmakers are trivialising the stories of actual people, or instilling false narratives for the sake of entertainment. There are many examples of how this can go wrong, and how fictionalised versions of real people can be completely different from how they were in real life.
Academy Award-winner Jeremy Irons took on the role of Neville Chamberlain.
In the case of Munich: The Edge of War, I think the film generally avoided that pitfall. It did so, however, by having a completely different focus than I was expecting – one in which very few real-life individuals played significant roles. Even Chamberlain himself, the portrayal of whom had been a big part of the film’s pre-release marketing, was relegated to a supporting role. Chamberlain only really had one big fictionalised moment; the rest of the time he was playing the role we might’ve been expecting.
I’ve always rated Jeremy Irons highly as an actor. His portrayals in films as diverse as The Lion King and The French Lieutenant’s Woman have been fantastic, and of course he’s an Academy Award winner. He definitely brought a much needed gravitas to the role of Neville Chamberlain, and despite the plot of the film focusing primarily on events elsewhere, Munich: The Edge of War was definitely the better for Irons’ portrayal of one of history’s most interesting and, still, disliked figures.
Prime Minister Chamberlain gives a famous radio address.
Neville Chamberlain and the Munich Agreement depicted in Munich: The Edge of War long ago became bywords for appeasement and foreign policy failures. Contemporary political figures of all stripes are wary of comparisons to Chamberlain, and his name is invoked on both sides of the Atlantic when politicians and leaders try to deal with difficult foreign policy situations.
Some of that criticism is earned, of course. But as with any historical figure, there’s more to Neville Chamberlain than one half-baked narrative, and this is something that, to its credit, Munich: The Edge of War touches on. There hasn’t really been an historical reappraisal of Chamberlain and the overall policy of appeasement, and the film is too short and has too many other balls to juggle to really add much to that conversation anyway. But in its presentation of Chamberlain, we at least catch a glimpse of how the situation might’ve appeared from his perspective.
We all know the history surrounding this moment, but the film showed it in a slightly different light.
Neville Chamberlain became Prime Minister in 1937, more than a year after the event that historians widely agree was the “last best chance” to stop Hitler’s aggressive policies and delay or prevent a war. This was, of course, the reoccupation of the Rheinland by German forces, and it came during the tenure of Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, who had set the tone of appeasement during much of the preceding couple of years.
Chamberlain’s remark in Munich: The Edge of War about “playing the cards [he] was dealt” can be seen through this lens. In that sense, the film takes more of a pro-Chamberlain view than many others dealing with the same subject matter would; the Munich Agreement is supposed to be the embodiment of the failures of both appeasement in general and Chamberlain personally, yet director Christian Schwochow – and Robert Harris, the author of the novel upon which the film was based – present both sympathetically.
Chamberlain had to play the hand of cards that he had been dealt – that’s one of the messages the film wants to convey.
Munich: The Edge of War chooses to portray the Munich Agreement not as the pinnacle of failure, but as a temporary reprieve, one which was cleverly employed by Chamberlain to stall for time. Chamberlain comes across not as the bumbling idiot of history who couldn’t see Hitler and the Nazis for what they were, but instead as someone with limited options who did the best he could to avoid an immediate conflict that he felt certain would’ve doomed Britain to defeat.
Whether this portrayal is fair or not is left up to the viewer, naturally, but this is the take that the film offers. It’s still possible to sit through the tense moments in the run-up to the treaty being offered while acknowledging the ultimate futility of it all, but doing so requires us to step out of Munich: The Edge of War and consider where the film sits in the history of the real world. Taken solely on its own merits, these moments of tension and drama work – even though some could feel a little forced.
George MacKay as Hugh Legat.
The role of Adolf Hitler is always going to be a challenging one to cast and to play, and it was here that I felt Munich: The Edge of War hit a stumbling block. Ulrich Matthes felt miscast in the role, and while he did his best to play up the sense of Hitler as a menace, the portrayal never quite landed for me. 1938 should see Adolf Hitler at the absolute zenith of his power, yet in Munich: The Edge of War he somehow felt small; the presence he should’ve had came more from the script than the screen presence.
Hitler was also the only character in the film whose costumes seemed ill-fitting. Ulrich Matthes is not especially short, but he does have a rather slender frame, and several of the costumes he wore as Hitler seemed rather too large for him, giving one of history’s worst dictators the appearance of a schoolboy whose parents had bought him a suit he was expected to “grow into.” Combined with a less-than-stellar performance, this robbed the character of much of the gravitas needed to make the moments where he was centre-stage feel like they mattered. Though Hitler got comparatively little screen time, his actions were the driving force behind both halves of the plot, and we as the audience needed to be able to take him seriously enough to make the rest of the film work. As it is, the best I can say is that this key character didn’t quite fall to the level of damaging the rest of the film – but the way he came across on screen did nothing to elevate it.
Ulrich Matthes as Adolf Hitler.
So we come to the junior civil servants, the fictional people upon whose shoulders the real story of Munich: The Edge of War was carried. I really liked the contrast between the two men – Paul von Hartmann, played by Jannis Niewöhner, and Hugh Legat, played by George MacKay. They came from similar worlds, as the scenes showing them together at Oxford University showed, but they ended up on very different philosophical and political paths, largely (but not entirely) due to circumstances beyond their control.
In a sense, the stories of von Hartmann and Legat stand to represent hundreds of thousands of bureaucrats and minor functionaries on both sides of the war – and by extension the millions of enlisted and conscripted men who ultimately fought in the conflict. People from all social classes, all backgrounds, and all walks of life were ripped out of their surroundings and pitted against one another by great powers and by forces beyond their control. Legat and von Hartmann were swept along by circumstances in their home countries, driven apart by fanatical politics, but ultimately came back together to try to do the right thing. Though their stories were fictional, they represent millions of untold stories of real people in similar situations.
The fictional stories of Legat and von Hartmann can be seen as representing millions of real people throughout the war.
Both of the actors put in exceptional performances. I truly bought into von Hartmann’s enthusiastic and impassioned defence of Hitler when he and Legat argued in a flashback sequence. Jannis Niewöhner brought that moment to life, showing the burning passion that many politically active young people have. It was misguided, of course, as von Hartmann would later come to realise, but as a believable performance of a young man in Germany in that time period I thought it was absolutely outstanding.
George MacKay is someone I’m familiar with from the film 1917, and he put in just as complex a performance in Munich: The Edge of War as he had in the title which had won him critical acclaim a couple of years ago. It isn’t fair to compare two different characters, but in this case I definitely felt echoes of William Schofield (his 1917 character) in Hugh Legat. Both men find themselves thrust into difficult and dangerous circumstances for which they are ill-prepared, and both do their best to rise to meet the challenges in front of them.
George MacKay put in a solid performance as a man who finds himself facing an unexpected and difficult task.
Legat and von Hartmann were both granted love interests by Munich: The Edge of War, and here is perhaps where we ran into a fairly typical issue when condensing the story of a novel into the runtime of a single film. Neither Legat’s wife nor the character of Lena, whose injury seems to have been a driving force behind von Hartmann turning against Hitler, felt well-developed. I’d go so far as to call both extraneous to the plot; the minor roles they played didn’t feel necessary to inform either Legat or von Hartmann, and didn’t really serve to accomplish much of anything.
I’d argue that, in a film about Adolf Hitler and the outbreak of World War II, practically no fictional character needs more motivation to stop Hitler than “because it’s Hitler,” and with the revelation of Lena’s attack and disability not coming until the film was practically over and the bulk of the spy thriller plot had concluded, it didn’t really achieve what it intended anyway. It was, at best, background – and there’s nothing wrong with fleshing out characters and giving them family connections or love interests in a general sense. But in Munich: The Edge of War it was, perhaps, an unnecessary inclusion.
Jannis Niewöhner as Paul von Hartmann.
With the exception of the aforementioned costuming problem, I felt that the visual side of Munich: The Edge of War was handled very well. The few uses of visual effects (such as for a steam train) worked as intended, and the exterior and interior sets all succeeded at transporting me to the 1930s. I particularly felt that the main set used for the Munich conference captured the spirit of Nazi architecture well, and felt sufficiently imposing.
Munich: The Edge of War was definitely the better for the inclusion of German alongside English as its spoken languages. Seeing German characters speaking to one another in German adds a sense of realism that’s important to a piece like this, and switching back and forth between the two languages worked well. Having both principal characters being fluent in both languages allowed for them to mix it up, speaking German in some circumstances and English in others.
The arrival of the delegations at the conference venue.
To wrap things up, Munich: The Edge of War isn’t going to have the cut-through of a film like 2004’s Downfall. In order to appreciate what it has to offer, I think you really need to have at least a passing interest in the Second World War and the events the film aims to depict. Some historical dramas and thrillers can cross over and find mainstream appeal; I believe that Munich: The Edge of War simply isn’t that kind of film. That isn’t to say it’s bad by any means – I had an enjoyable time with it. It just isn’t quite on the same level as films like Downfall.
I arrived expecting to find a film that focused more on Chamberlain himself, but found instead a perfectly entertaining spy thriller that managed to have a few novelties to offer fans of the genre as a whole. The newness of both spies, the real historical backdrop, and the dual nature of its protagonists makes Munich: The Edge of War stand out somewhat in a genre that can feel repetitive and samey. Those elements carried the film far enough to make it an enjoyable experience.
I’d have liked to have seen more of Jeremy Irons’ portrayal of Chamberlain, as I felt he was somewhat limited in the screen time he had in a film that had another story to tell. Other than that, Munich: The Edge of War was entertaining. It was tense enough and dramatic enough in the right places, told a unique story, and gave us a small but different look at an historical figure that we’ve been told for more than eighty years we should vehemently disapprove of.
Munich: The Edge of War is available to stream now on Netflix. Munich: The Edge of War is the copyright of Netflix and/or Turbine Studios. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.