Station Eleven aired a year after covid. Somehow it earns the timing rather than exploiting it. Chillingly, its production started in January of 2020.
The craft is exceptional. Gorgeous cinematography, gripping acting, and one of the better scores I have heard in my life paired with a solid curated soundtrack to go along with it.
What truly elevates this show is the writing—both in structural ambition and how earnestly it treats its world and the people in it. This is a show built on parallels, foreshadowing, and slowly converging timelines. Hardly a novel recipe, but rendered here with what I felt was an uncommon level of precision and care.
The show is rooted in Miranda's graphic novel, which triply functions as a mirror of the larger narrative, a vessel through which characters process their trauma (all in different ways), and a poignant, poetic, and partially pretentious piece of art whose lines morph from cryptic to crushing by the time of the climax.
Station Eleven aired a year after covid. Somehow it earns the timing rather than exploiting it. Chillingly, its production started in January of 2020.
The craft is exceptional. Gorgeous cinematography, gripping acting, and one of the better scores I have heard in my life paired with a solid curated soundtrack to go along with it.
What truly elevates this show is the writing—both in structural ambition and how earnestly it treats its world and the people in it. This is a show built on parallels, foreshadowing, and slowly converging timelines. Hardly a novel recipe, but rendered here with what I felt was an uncommon level of precision and care.
The show is rooted in Miranda's graphic novel, which triply functions as a mirror of the larger narrative, a vessel through which characters process their trauma (all in different ways), and a poignant, poetic, and partially pretentious piece of art whose lines morph from cryptic to crushing by the time of the climax.
