Black Mirror (2011) s03e01 – Nosedive

If Nosedive is any indication, “Black Mirror” having guest writers isn’t going to help things. Rashida Jones and Michael Schur wrote the teleplay (they’d previously written “Parks and Recreation” together) from a story by “Mirror” creator Charlie Brooker. The episode also kicks off the show’s Netflix run; it had been on Channel 4, but Netflix took it over, hiring movie director Joe Wright to do a profoundly mediocre job.

Bryce Dallas Howard plays the lead, a woman obsessed with her social media score. Too low of a score, and you lose your job, your apartment, your freedom, and your ability to participate in the ratings game. It’s a similar setup to that “Orville” episode, which came out a year later; guess Seth MacFarlane watched “Black Mirror” and figured he could do better.

He’s not wrong, but let’s talk about Nosedive. Howard’s an incredibly likable lead, but it’s a mediocre script and performance. She’s an unlikable narcissist, desperate for approval from strangers, which drives a wedge in her relationship with brother James Norton. Now, “Mirror” is a very British show, except Nosedive’s pretending it’s not. Norton and co-star Alice Eve are British, while Howard and other co-star Cherry Jones are not. Norton and Eve do American accents, and the cars drive on the right side, so… is “Mirror” trying to appeal more globally? Jones and Schur are American sitcom writers, after all.

It’s a long, tedious episode about Howard getting her comeuppance and learning not everything is about what other people think about you. Michaela Coel’s cameo isn’t even good, but she’s got some personality, which the episode otherwise reviles in not delivering. “Mirror”’s rarely good at explaining the context well enough, but Nosedive takes that avoidance to a whole other level.

Jones is good. It’s not worth watching the rest of it, but she’s good.

“Mirror”’s best when it’s got great lead performances. Nosedive gives Howard a spotlight but then doesn’t give her anything to do in it. Except work her way through various sitcom beats.

Nosedive is so lackluster I was even hoping for one of those lousy “Mirror” end credits epilogues just to have something to discuss. I mean, I suppose there’s something to say about the episode’s take on social media, but there’s also not. Jones and Schur don’t even try to have flaccid observations; they just have excruciatingly dull gags.

If the Netflix episodes keep up the unnecessary length, I hope they at least build in nap time.

Black Mirror (2011) s02e03 – The Waldo Moment

“Black Mirror” creator and episode writer Charlie Brooker really loves mentioning Twitter in episodes. It’s practically a drinking game, and it at least makes some sense time-wise because most of this episode takes place in the present. During the end credits, just like last episode, we get a flash forward to show how our new modern age has gone awry, and Brooker starts beating each and every viewer over the head with the message.

Multiple epilogues are great if you’re good at them and have a reason for them. Brooker just uses them in a way I had to look up solipsism again. “Black Mirror” ostensibly takes place in a multiverse of endless shitty possibilities, but I’m pretty sure—at least based on a two-thirds of this season—they’re all just hard solipsists and don’t pay enough attention to anyone else to realize their perception’s whacked.

Anyway.

The Waldo Moment.

It’s mostly great.

It stumbles in the third act, real hard. Jason Flemyng somehow manages not to be able to play a perfectly realistic sleaze bag billionaire. It’s an incredibly easy part, but Flemyng is so absent charisma he flops. I’m not even sure Flemyng does a bad job; he’s just entirely miscast.

The episode’s already in some acting trouble thanks to lead Daniel Rigby. He’s been voicing this cartoon character Waldo on a TV show with a title seemingly spoofing “Last Week Tonight,” but it’s from a year before, so maybe “LWT” ripped off “Black Mirror.” Cool.

Rigby hates his job because no one likes him for him. They don’t like white British guys who can’t get any sun because it’s clear his skin would burn off; they like Waldo, an obscene, blue cartoon bear whose accent isn’t not Black. Waldo’s got a gold-capped tooth.

Anyway.

Just as Rigby’s having another crisis and being too needy with another ex-girlfriend, promising young woman Chloe Pirrie is interviewing for a position running as the Labour candidate. She’s not going to beat the slimy Tory (Tobias Menzies), but it’ll look great on her CV.

It all collides because Menzies has the dumb idea of doing an interview with Waldo, where Waldo offends Menzies, and then Menzies files a complaint. So Rigby’s producer—Christina Chong, who’s too likable to be cutthroat, so she’s utterly passive—decides they’ll take Waldo out in a van where Rigby can perform and taunt Menzies live on the campaign trail. Pretty soon, Waldo’s invited to the debate.

Oh, and Rigby seduces Pirrie.

Except politics is war, and all is fair in love and war.

After an auspicious start, which overcomes Rigby being too bland and Waldo not being a very interesting technological subject—it’s just a real-time animation thing. Like, Flash was already dying when Waldo came out. The reason there wasn’t a real Waldo Moment isn’t because the technology didn’t exist, it’s because politics was all bullshit at this point. Menzies is the soulless bullshit candidate, Pirrie is the soulful bullshit candidate, but what about Waldo….

Will billionaire Flemyng have a naughty idea? Will Rigby and Pirrie dance too close to the fire? Will there be animated bear wiener? Will any of it matter after the hard bellyflop finish?

No. It will not.

Good direction from Bryn Higgins. “Mirror” doesn’t flop because Brooker misses something with his scripts; it flops because of intentional choices. It’s obvious and craven.

Black Mirror (2011) s02e02 – White Bear

White Bear feels contractually obligated, which is strange since it’s got a script credit to series creator Charlie Brooker. Maybe it just fell apart in production, too; Bear crumbles about halfway through, and it’s a short episode already—around forty-one minutes. It begins with Lenora Crichlow waking up in an empty house, apparently having just survived a suicide attempt, pictures of her husband and daughter downstairs, but she’s got amnesia, so she can’t be sure they’re her family. Her neighbors all look at her from their windows, then run around and take pictures of her with their smartphones.

None of them know how to turn off the shutter sound.

Carl Tibbetts directs and, for much of the episode, does the best directing in a “Black Mirror” yet. Of course, it’s not a particularly high bar, but Tibbetts’s work is quite good. After chasing one of the onlookers, Crichlow finds herself on the run from a man in a mask, shooting at her with a shotgun. His mask has a symbol on it, which she (and the audience) have already seen on the TVs in her house. Nothing makes any sense!

Then Crichlow happens across Tuppence Middleton, who’s just trying to survive in this dystopia. Middleton gives Crichlow some information on the ground situation—one day, everyone got a text on their smartphones, looked at it, and all became obsessive voyeurs. Except the people who go out and kill and torture for the amusement of the obsessive voyeurs.

Presumably unintentionally, Middleton’s a lot more compelling than Crichlow. Maybe because she knows what’s going on, and Crichlow doesn’t have any character development because amnesia. And because reveal.

Before the reveal, the episode has time to introduce fellow survivor Michael Smiley, who’s playing a medley of caricatures. Even after the reveal and all the stakes have changed, Middleton’s still more compelling than Crichlow.

It’s half a good episode, but then still a bad one.

Tibbetts, though. Tibbetts does just fine.

Black Mirror (2011) s02e01 – Be Right Back

Okay, now I’m beginning to understand some of the “Black Mirror” hype. Despite its trying for too clever and not getting there title, Be Right Back is fantastic. It overcomes director Owen Harris having one shot and repeating it over and over again: lead Hayley Atwell is on one side of the frame, the other side of the frame is empty space; it’s like Harris composes for a smartphone.

Speaking of smartphones… they’re the obvious thing Back gets wrong about its future. The episode aired in 2013 when smartphones were still small and clunky, so the future phones are small and slim. There’s also some hilarious stuff with Atwell’s touchscreen laptop, which is a commercial for why the product category hasn’t taken off. But, otherwise, no real notes on Back’s future. Though, asterisk. Charlie Brooker’s script ignores a whole lot of Atwell’s story so as to not talk about the future practicalities.

Atwell’s a young widow. Actually, wait. Unclear on her and Domhnall Gleeson’s marital status. It sure seems like they’re married—they’ve been together ten years, and they’re renovating his dead mum’s house to live in, which seems like a married thing. But when he’s been gone a few months, Atwell’s sister (Claire Keelan) is thrilled to see Atwell shacking up with some new guy. I mean, grieve how you’re going to grieve, which is also the episode plot.

See, in this future, they—they being the brandless tech companies (the least believable thing about “Black Mirror”… its intentional lack of capitalist reality)—have made a large language model you can train with a dead loved one’s online presence so you can converse with them. Upgrades start basic, with you uploading private emails for better training, but it can also do fake voices (better than the fake voices in last season’s “Black Mirror” future, where they never fixed crappy robot voices). Since FaceTime wasn’t a thing yet, Back doesn’t involve any video calls.

I mean, Skype was a thing, right?

Anyway. The story’s about what happens as Atwell starts using the zombie email service to cope with her grief and new stresses. She goes from reluctant to addicted, eventually upgrading to the OT VIII level, which will change her life forever.

The story’s pretty good, but Atwell and Gleeson are spectacular. They’re great alone; they’re great together. It’s Atwell’s show—episode—but Gleeson’s essential.

So, the secret to “Black Mirror” is apparently genuinely great performances to glaze over mediocre production and cravenly plotted scripts.

To be fair to Brooker, Back is one of the few cases where something continues past its natural ending to find an even better one. Except, of course, the only reason they pull it off is Atwell and Gleeson.

They’re so good.

Black Mirror (2011) s01e03 – The Entire History of You

Not to get too Roman DeBeers, but The Entire History of You takes place in a universe where they create a cyborg technology to record your memories but never figure out how to get text-to-speech engines to sound better than they did in 1997. You provides an interesting finale for the first season of “Black Mirror” because it’s the only episode (of three, but still) not written or co-written by show creator Charlie Brooker. Also because it’s tripe.

Jesse Armstrong’s script is bad. Not just because it fails to make it through some general “hard sci-fi” gates. Not just because its philosophy seems to be, “Well, psychologists implanted all those memories, so we need video memory to prove men’s innocence.” #MenToo.

Barf. Especially since the episode’s about a physically abusive narcissist.

It’s simply bad on a structural basis. It starts with episode lead Toby Kebbell in a red herring job interview where they all throw out some talky-talk jargon for this universe. Basically, everyone’s got these “Re-Do” devices in their heads, and, in this future, everyone just watches their old memories. Presumably there’s a market for selling and sharing these memories, which doesn’t get discussed. Instead, Kebbell becomes irrationally jealous of wife Jodie Whittaker, and her jackass old friend, Tom Cullen.

As Kebbell becomes more and more convinced there’s something going on, he’s able to comb through his Re-Do archive to find clues. Though—and here’s where Armstrong’s bad writing comes in—there’s no discussion of his actual previous behaviors either. Apparently, Kebbell’s been super-jealous of Whittaker having sex before they were married before, and even though he’s a Chad, he doesn’t like his Stacy being with other Chads. At some point, it’s just clear Whittaker really likes abusive narcissists.

Even with a traditionally thin lady role—Armstrong follows that “Black Mirror” rule—Whittaker’s good. Cullen’s better than Kebbell, which isn’t saying much because Kebbell is awful. It’s not like there will be extended periods of the episode where it’s just Kebbell being terrible, is it? Not with lousy direction from Brian Welsh? Oh, wait, it’s almost half the episode. Bummer.

“Mirror” hasn’t been aging well ten-plus years on, but You is the first where it’s clear even on release the gimmick doesn’t work. Like what if you lose the remote control to your brain VCR?

Armstrong also seems to think Rod Serling will be narrating the episode all better.

With another lead and a slightly more intelligent script, You’d probably be okay. But with Kebbell and Armstrong?

Rewind and erase.

Black Mirror (2011) s01e02 – Fifteen Million Merits

I’m understanding why the first episode of “Black Mirror” did a painful Lars von Trier namedrop… because the show’s just Lars von Trier-lite. This episode eventually involves a young woman being pressured into becoming a porn performer—don’t worry it’s just a terminal subplot and her experience is entirely besides the point—and it’s like, oh, what if we objectified but completely de-centered and turned her into someone else’s property.

Fifteen Million Merits takes place in the future where the British(?) government’s boffins couldn’t figure out renewable energy when it was too late and the 99% spend their lives pedaling on stationary bicycles to make energy for the world(?). There aren’t a lot of details. There is some procreation—Jessica Brown Findlay remembers her mother, which apparently others don’t—but it’s unclear when and how it occurs. It’s also unclear if anyone has any sex ed outside the porno channel they have to pay not to watch when they’re cycling. No one in the episode exhibits actual attraction to another person besides lead Daniel Kaluuya and, presumably, Brown Findlay.

I didn’t recognize Brown Findlay from “Downton Abbey” until her flirting scene with Kaluuya, which is done exactly the same as her flirting scenes with Allan Leech on “Downton.” Not the greatest moment for the script, though the functional cravenness is pragmatic. Writers Charlie Brooker and Konnie Huq aren’t going to be doing any character development (or even properly preparing the narrative to allow for character development), so why not just have recognizable cast members on the anthology show do their bits from their well-known shows?

Anyway.

In the future, the only way for the riders to get ahead is to go on the future “American Idol” (sorry, future “Pop Idol”) and entertain their way to a better life. Is it a better life? Unclear. Merits sets up numerous potential “Twilight Zone” gotchas only to always go the path of least resistance.

Kaluuya’s the lead. He’s a rider with an incredible amount of money saved up–Merits—which you get from biking and then can spend on your Metaverse avatars. Another thing about watching “Black Mirror” with a decade-plus delay is seeing where the tech billionaires have just lifted dystopian ideas whole. But you also have to pay to eat and wash, which doesn’t make much sense. Of course, it doesn’t make much sense to have the bicycles in communal areas—everyone lives in little rooms surrounded by screens; why not just have the bike in there too?

Despite the other girl who makes eyes at Kaluuya, it isn’t until Brown Findlay shows up he gets interested in the ladies. Is there some subtext to Kaluuya and porn mogul Ashley Thomas being the only Black people in the show with lines? Maybe not. Though definitely once it turns out Thomas’s porn movies are all about Black men degrading white women. Dystopia, huh?

The acting’s decent, all things considered. Kaluuya and Brown Findlay have to play people who only exist within the context of these exact forty-five minutes, which will really hurt both their performances by the end. Though since Brown Findlay is a lady and therefore disposable to the plot, she at least gets to stop participating at some point. Kind of. It’s not better for the episode, just better for her not having to try to keep the energy going in a middling effort.

Rupert Everett guest stars as Simon Cowell, though potentially an Australian one.

Budget-wise, the episode seems fine. Euros Lyn’s direction is another middling element, particularly with the reveal shots. Jamie Pearson’s cutting is good, regardless of the content. And Stephen McKeon’s music is solid.

Is it thought-provoking? Ish? It’s affecting, to be sure, but it’s entirely manipulative.

Black Mirror (2011) s01e01 – The National Anthem

I spent all of The National Anthem waiting for someone—anyone—to turn to the camera and say, “David William Donald Cameron.” Hell, they could’ve done an animated Peppa Pig saying it. But "Black Mirror" started in 2011, when the world was a much different place. Not just Cameron, but in the intervening years, the whole British Prime Minister office doesn’t come with much regard (or even less regard than before). And "Mirror" is all about commenting on technology and its effect on the world. I assume the title refers to screens; I’m not Googling… right now.

Writer (and co-showrunner) Charlie Brooker thought way too much of people. He attributed much more grace to the species than we deserve.

That observation made, it’s a perfectly reasonable example of absurdist comedy done straight-faced as prestige television. To some degree, Brooker’s definitely making people talk about the episode’s “big twist”–"Black Mirror" probably led to spell-checkers no longer squiggle-lining meta, which they might’ve still done back in 2011.

Politely put—I mean, Google David Cameron and "Black Mirror" if I’m being too discreet–National Anthem is a tense political thriller about a prime minister in a tough spot. Someone has kidnapped the people’s princess (no, not Princess Mia) and will only release her if the prime minister does something reprehensible on live television, humiliating himself and the concepts of polite society and decorum in the digital age.

Now, there are a couple moments in the episode when the law enforcement goons miss very obvious technology things, but it’s from 2011, not like 2016, which is what I assumed. All the “Downton” references play different too. Though it still means in the universe where Diana and Charles (presumably, there aren’t details) had a daughter, “Downton Abbey” was a sensation. Heck, it’s even possible Diana’s queen in this universe.

Anyway.

The decent enough observations for 2011 are a time capsule of a more ignorant time (i.e., more ignorant of reality).

As a dramatic thriller, it’s solid prestige television. Rory Kinnear’s good as the prime minister, who finds himself under unimaginable pressure (he should’ve been reading The Pet Goat), which leads to… well, not a character arc–lots of dramatic moments, but not character development. Lindsay Duncan’s his chief assistant who makes some bad choices, leading to contentious moments with Kinnear. She’s fine. It’s a crap part. No one else makes bad choices, just the older woman, but it was 2011 and making a powerful woman incompetent was progressive. She’s powerful, isn’t she?

Despite “Mirror” being co-run by Annabel Jones, Anthem wants nothing to do with the ladies. Anna Wilson-Jones plays Kinnear’s absent from the plot but physically present on set wife, who’s a plot accessory for Kinnear. Chetna Pandya’s the too-eager young reporter who knows how the future of media’s going to work (only she doesn’t—according to the show, anyway—and then she gets punished). Odd flexes.

Tom Goodman-Hill’s kind of pretty good as Kinnear’s boy Friday. So many qualifications. All the acting’s fine, sometimes excellent—there’s just not much for them to do with their performances. Anthem’s on a strict schedule, and director Otto Bathurst keeps the trains on time.

Bathurst’s also fine without being notable. He can direct prestige–big shrug.

But there are some great “cameos.” The show’s trying to be classy by not drawing attention to the stunt casts, but they’re still a lot of fun.

It’s fine. I’ve only said “fine” like five times. It’s a prestige anthology show with a gimmick.

It’s fine.