Imagine all the interesting and horrifying uses of memory grain implant, a kind of infinite external hard drive that allowed you to record and rewatch memories at will. Detectives would be able to analyse interrogations LA Noire style, stalkers could rewatch chance glimpses of their victims and your memories could be hacked by strangers to be used for their own pleasure. And all of these uses, these perversions of our own private treasured memories, would be a far better way to open The Entire History of You than the dull, generic office 'appraisal' Jessie Armstrong decides to go with. It's a bog-standard personal development-style interview utterly devoid of emotion, intrigue or humour. Everything's worded so vaguely it's difficult to even tell what line of work the protagonist is in and never provides the context of his personal investment in the job to allow us to empathise with him. The scene only serves to establish the various everyday use of the memory grain and doesn't even have the decency to simply show this then pull back to reveal Liam watching it in the back of the cab. That sums it up really, it's a scene which wastes both our time.
The worst part is there's more of this clumsy style of story-telling to come, it shares 15 Million Merits's problem of fumbling in the first act. However last time it was merely a murky stain which left things more difficult to assess here it feels more like a shit streak across a large part of the episode. The dinner party is one of the most pivotal sequences in The Entire History of You and also the most excruciating. The sexual tension between Liam's wife Ffione and former oily lover Jonas is beaten about our heads with exaggerated laughing at unfunny jokes and clammy body language. It’s something Neil Marshall got across much better in the first five minutes of The Decent which leads me to wonder how between a quiet mediation on cyberstalking and a film about girls hacking cave monsters to death the latter is the more subtle.
As far as fleshing out the social and cultural impact of the memory grain Armstrong's writing is hit and miss. To its credit The Entire History of You does a lot with very little time, showing the variety of uses for this new technology from enjoying old memories to picking apart the quality of hotels to being reviewed at airport security. It’s even permeated the language, words like 'redo' and 'gauges' are as commonplace as 'Facebooking'. There's even a mild bit of controversy about going 'grainless' which brings me to the decidedly more miss issue of 'gouging' a weird combination of physical violation and phone hacking. We're never told exactly why someone would want to steal the memories of others but the dinner party guests act so casual and saccharin about the whole thing it's disturbing. Everyone seems to have been taking charm lessons from Piers Morgan and it reaches a cringe-worthy peak when the oily Jonas takes pleasure in stroking the gouge victims scars, the equivalent of rubbing a rape victims tearing’s, and everyone coos like it's a kitten with dwarfism.
Naming the protagonist Liam means an analysis of him will inevitably sound self-flagellating, which is a good word to describe him. The memory grain is primarily utilised to torture himself about past failures and fuel his paranoia. Insecure doesn't begin to cover it. Yet for all his vulnerabilities it takes still takes a while to warm to Liam as he continues to drive a wedge between himself and his wife. It becomes contrived when he makes the leap from impotent beta male to the violent jealous husband after never previously showing any undercurrent of hostility.
Despite this the peak of Liam's paranoia actually propels The Entire History of You straight out of shittytown and into a good show. Both the infidelity drama and the technological aspect go perfectly in sync rather than simply running parallel. As Liam physically forces Jonas to erase all memory of his wife his finds some more recent than others, specifically around the time their daughter was conceived. With more evidence thrown onto his suspicions he transforms into something we can generate sympathy for. The memory grain gives him moral justification but takes everything else, his wife, his child and all semblances of warmth and humanity from his life.
Not being entirely driven by its ideas about technology The Entire History of You finds itself the weaker of the three episodes. It could have benefitted from a better look at how this idea could impact the world rather than affect one family. Yes we can all relate to a domestic drama but there are meatier stories to be found in the memory grain. Perhaps future episodes can take a stab at it because, in spite of the criticisms, I want to see more tales from the Black Mirror and in a world where we're surrounded by screens, I think we need to.
Thursday, 22 December 2011
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
The Black Mirror is turned to talent shows in 15 Million Merits
The second part of Charlie Brooker's anthology series is a much harder beast to assess. While The National Anthem was a tighly constructed 24-esque thriller, 15 Million Merits is a more whimsical exploration of a culture driven society. The story of Bing (Daniel Kaluuya), a frustrated young man living in a world surrounded by screens, his sole distraction from the monotony of daily labour. The world of 15 Million Merits is apparently dominated by a series of exercise bikes powering a fully automated world where even a dab of toothpaste comes from the click of a button.
Booker does an excellent job of showing how this horrifying world breaks down for the average individual, from the CBBC style rooster that serves as Bing's alarm clock to the pause function that activates whenever he tries to sheild his eyes from the endless series of obnoxious adverts. In this world colour is demonised and the obese are the underclass. The only hope of escape is an X Factor style talent shot Hot Shots and its trio of judges held up as god-like figures, the only flesh and blood in a world of internet avatars (or dopplers).
Enter Abi (Jessica Brown-Findlay), a young woman with an angelic voice who approaches Amanda Seyfried levels on the Naifometer. Bing sees in her talent beauty and authenticity and immediately wants the best for her, offering up his titular merits to buy an audition on Hot Shots. This is where the story fumbles in comparison to its fast paced predecessor. It necessitates introducing Bing, exploring his world and the beginnings of this tentative romance, though a sweet romance it is. For this reason the first half hour never flows as smoothly as The National Anthem, monotony may be the point but that doesn't mean it has to be monotonous to watch.
You might recognise Daniel Kaluuya from BBC Three's supernatural drama The Fades and whatever you might think of that show Kaluuya's easily the best thing in it. Here he shows he can do a lot even when given very little, though it does help matters later when allowed more dialogue. In the first half hour he never sounds off against the constant barrage of screens or his drab work wear, like all dystopian drones he's far too comfortable but the dissatisfaction is in the performance. Knowingly awkward, hoping for better Bing carries the limb first half and downright shines in the climax.
Ah the climax, once things go tits up with Abi, finding herself in a thinly veiled Babestation parody, Bing spirals into depression and eventually righteous anger. Determined to set things right he scrimps and saves to earn a spot on Hot Shots and when he's there, with the millions watching, he sounds off against the injustice of it all. Then what happens...is probably the hardest thing assess, not because it’s not good but because it's been done before. The judges at Hot Shots find a way to package and distribute his anger in a daily broadcast, a carbon copy of the plot to the 1976 film Network. Brooker himself has commented on the film, comparing Peter Finch's descent into madness to roughly anything Glenn Beck says. In this day an age you can't call fault using the ideas of another work but it leaves bitter stain on an otherwise clever turn of fate.
Not as tight, nor as funny as The National Anthem, for all its flashy surroundings 15 Million Merits is one of the bleakest things you are likely to see this year. It's a fully fleshed out dystopian future which brilliantly reflects our modern day screen addiction but in terms of story it unfortunately comes out half-measure even if it's still the most intelligent thing on telly right now.
Booker does an excellent job of showing how this horrifying world breaks down for the average individual, from the CBBC style rooster that serves as Bing's alarm clock to the pause function that activates whenever he tries to sheild his eyes from the endless series of obnoxious adverts. In this world colour is demonised and the obese are the underclass. The only hope of escape is an X Factor style talent shot Hot Shots and its trio of judges held up as god-like figures, the only flesh and blood in a world of internet avatars (or dopplers).
Enter Abi (Jessica Brown-Findlay), a young woman with an angelic voice who approaches Amanda Seyfried levels on the Naifometer. Bing sees in her talent beauty and authenticity and immediately wants the best for her, offering up his titular merits to buy an audition on Hot Shots. This is where the story fumbles in comparison to its fast paced predecessor. It necessitates introducing Bing, exploring his world and the beginnings of this tentative romance, though a sweet romance it is. For this reason the first half hour never flows as smoothly as The National Anthem, monotony may be the point but that doesn't mean it has to be monotonous to watch.
You might recognise Daniel Kaluuya from BBC Three's supernatural drama The Fades and whatever you might think of that show Kaluuya's easily the best thing in it. Here he shows he can do a lot even when given very little, though it does help matters later when allowed more dialogue. In the first half hour he never sounds off against the constant barrage of screens or his drab work wear, like all dystopian drones he's far too comfortable but the dissatisfaction is in the performance. Knowingly awkward, hoping for better Bing carries the limb first half and downright shines in the climax.
Ah the climax, once things go tits up with Abi, finding herself in a thinly veiled Babestation parody, Bing spirals into depression and eventually righteous anger. Determined to set things right he scrimps and saves to earn a spot on Hot Shots and when he's there, with the millions watching, he sounds off against the injustice of it all. Then what happens...is probably the hardest thing assess, not because it’s not good but because it's been done before. The judges at Hot Shots find a way to package and distribute his anger in a daily broadcast, a carbon copy of the plot to the 1976 film Network. Brooker himself has commented on the film, comparing Peter Finch's descent into madness to roughly anything Glenn Beck says. In this day an age you can't call fault using the ideas of another work but it leaves bitter stain on an otherwise clever turn of fate.
Not as tight, nor as funny as The National Anthem, for all its flashy surroundings 15 Million Merits is one of the bleakest things you are likely to see this year. It's a fully fleshed out dystopian future which brilliantly reflects our modern day screen addiction but in terms of story it unfortunately comes out half-measure even if it's still the most intelligent thing on telly right now.
Monday, 5 December 2011
Black Mirror: Assemble for The National Anthem
If you read this blog then chances are that, like me, you know who Charlie Brooker is i.e. the most biting and blackly funny TV Critic working today. But there are few critics capeable of writing so well in a medium they frequently condemn (Mark Kermode has vowed never to try). It takes work to write good television, truly engrossing stuff, especially something that can tear me away from my smartphone. I watched the first installment, a satire on mass media and the court of public opinion, without pause. Compare to any given episode of Torchwood: Miracle Day, which I would repeatedly pause and you see the importance of being able to grip an audience.
The first edition, entitled The National Anthem, does this within the first few minutes. The setup, like the best, is simple but with complicated consequences and distinctly Brooker in its grim absurdity. Princess Susanna, the nation's sweetheart, has been kidnapped and will be killed unless Prime Minister Michael Callow (Rory Kinnear) has sex with a pig. Sounds like a joke and the PM thinks so too, but outside Whitehall the wheels effortlessly turn to drive this 'joke' into the only option.
Over the course of the show we see the media supressed despite the situation already trending on Twitter. The information age is allowing every Tom, Dick and Harry to give their view regardless of how intimate the issue or foul their opinion. While the public supports the PM in the early stages when the grim reality sets in the tide turns. In one glorious scene Lindsay Duncan as the PM's Press Advisor lays everything clear. If Callow does not sacrifice dignity to save the life of a beloved young woman he will be destroyed. The press will condemn, the public will riot and no one will be able to garuntee his safety or the safety of his family.
While it is interesting to watch how the freedoms of Twitter, Facebook and other social media have lead to this shift in the influence of public opinion over politics The National Anthem still struggles with the plausibility of it all. When massive outrage and rioting cannot influence a descision of tutition fees how can we believe a Prime Minister would sacrifice anything just because the world calls for it. Almost makes Brooker sound naive but the man's genius is not in creating a believable scenario but in crafting a world driven by its absurdity. The story takes on a national scale encompassing politics, the press and members of the public all of whom act exactly the way you'd expect in such an event. Every character stands out as entertaining, pitiable, funny and above all real. They carry The National Anthem from start to finish culminating in a beautiful montage of mutual disgust.
The first installment of Brooker's trilogy definately deserves a watch, more thrilling than 24 and darker than Tramadol Nights, it sets the bar high for next weeks reality satire 15 Million Merits.
The first edition, entitled The National Anthem, does this within the first few minutes. The setup, like the best, is simple but with complicated consequences and distinctly Brooker in its grim absurdity. Princess Susanna, the nation's sweetheart, has been kidnapped and will be killed unless Prime Minister Michael Callow (Rory Kinnear) has sex with a pig. Sounds like a joke and the PM thinks so too, but outside Whitehall the wheels effortlessly turn to drive this 'joke' into the only option.
Over the course of the show we see the media supressed despite the situation already trending on Twitter. The information age is allowing every Tom, Dick and Harry to give their view regardless of how intimate the issue or foul their opinion. While the public supports the PM in the early stages when the grim reality sets in the tide turns. In one glorious scene Lindsay Duncan as the PM's Press Advisor lays everything clear. If Callow does not sacrifice dignity to save the life of a beloved young woman he will be destroyed. The press will condemn, the public will riot and no one will be able to garuntee his safety or the safety of his family.
While it is interesting to watch how the freedoms of Twitter, Facebook and other social media have lead to this shift in the influence of public opinion over politics The National Anthem still struggles with the plausibility of it all. When massive outrage and rioting cannot influence a descision of tutition fees how can we believe a Prime Minister would sacrifice anything just because the world calls for it. Almost makes Brooker sound naive but the man's genius is not in creating a believable scenario but in crafting a world driven by its absurdity. The story takes on a national scale encompassing politics, the press and members of the public all of whom act exactly the way you'd expect in such an event. Every character stands out as entertaining, pitiable, funny and above all real. They carry The National Anthem from start to finish culminating in a beautiful montage of mutual disgust.
The first installment of Brooker's trilogy definately deserves a watch, more thrilling than 24 and darker than Tramadol Nights, it sets the bar high for next weeks reality satire 15 Million Merits.
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