Cerebral, innovative, thought-provoking—it seems like only yesterday that critics across the planet were freely tossing out compliments such as these at Netflix’s “Black Mirror,” in praise of what many considered to be this generation’s version of “The Twilight Zone.”
And rightfully so. Upon its debut, “Black Mirror” personified itself as a refreshing rallying cry for the intellectual viewer. Armed to the teeth with social commentary and razor-sharp writing, the anthology series promised to shake up the very culture it simultaneously sought out to critique. Now, nine years later, with the series more popular than ever, fans and newcomers alike awaited the arrival of the series’ fifth season with anxious anticipation. Flaunting weighty promises of episodes equipped with all-star casts and teasing an assumed return to its trademark cynicism, Season 5 seemed invulnerable to any-and-all errors.
However, the key ingredients integral to the success of “Black Mirror” seem to have lost themselves somewhere between conception and release in this newest collection of episodes. Taking into account the show’s decade-long reign, it should come as no shock to discover its creators repurposing past material, disguising former stories with a sleek coat of fresh paint. And yet, cleverness and imagination, which consistently operate as pinnacles of the show’s output—even within episodes widely considered to exist at the lower end of the anthology’s previous outings—are nowhere to be found. Regrettably, Season 5 forsakes the anthology’s talent for storytelling; the speculative immersion that powers the core of “Black Mirror” is unlocatable.
From the admirable, albeit misguided “Striking Vipers” to the frightfully vapid “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too,” none of the episodes in Season 5 hit their intended targets. Out of the three entries, “Smithereens” comes closest to establishing itself as a crowd-pleaser, although this is debatable due to the episode failing, or rather avoiding, to take any creative risks apart from its admirably ambiguous conclusion.
On the whole, “Black Mirror” Season 5 possesses all the entertainment value of a forged painting—there is no mistaking the portrait for anything other than the original, but any sense of originality or authenticity has been stripped away. [C-]
**The following reviews for each individual episode of “Black Mirror” Season 5 may include spoilers**
“Striking Vipers”
If you have ever lost sleep at night wondering what would happen if you mixed “Moonlight” with “Mortal Kombat,” look no further than the introductory chapter to “Black Mirror” Season 5. As a frequently uncomfortable, occasionally laughable examination of repressed sexuality, “Striking Vipers” may claim the title as one of the most bizarre entries within the show’s entire catalog.
While all hints of paranoia and technophobia are strangely set aside for lust and passion—the episode snuggles up nicely alongside friendlier episodes of the television show (i.e. “San Junipero” and “Hang the DJ”)—“Striking Vipers” buries itself in a shallow grave once the initial shock of its premise wears off. Although some viewers may find the idea of two men expressing their passion through video game avatars to be taboo or off-putting, the factor that primarily undermines the impact of the episode is its lack of development.
“Striking Vipers” entertains the notion of digging below the surface in search of cultural commentary concerning homosexuality within the African-American community, only to find itself repeatedly tripping over its own feet as it struggles to pinpoint its repetitive plot threads, too afraid to blatantly confront its own subject matter. Conversely, the performances, particularly from Anthony Mackie and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, manage to salvage the episode from utter forgettability, allowing for a bittersweet tale of forbidden attraction to retain a bit of its integrity. [C]
“Smithereens”
Stripping itself to the barebones format that catalyzed the appeal of the series, “Smithereens” adopts the façade of a sci-fi thriller before shedding its skin to preach upon the issues of social media addiction and suicide. Driven by Andrew Scott’s immaculate performance, the episode transforms an act of terrorism into a dissection of grief, which despite lacking a worthwhile twist, succeeds in championing the gut-punch conclusions that “Black Mirror” fans adore. Moreover, darkly comedic undertones and visually striking direction enable “Smithereens” to stand shoulders above “Striking Vipers” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” with regards to artistic credence, allowing the entry to claim the title as the favorite child of Season 5.
Nevertheless, the elevated status of “Smithereens” arguably exists solely due to the substandard quality of its accompanying episodes; had “Smithereens” debuted in Season 4 or Season 3, its reception would likely rank far lower in comparison. Relatedly, the commentary, despite its timeliness, does not harbor any sort of subtlety and largely forsakes any hints of originality. Similar to “Striking Vipers,” viewers familiar with “Black Mirror” will certainly experience a tactile sense of déjà vu as the events of “Smithereens” develop at an unrewardingly slow-burn tempo. [B-]
“Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too”
Take a moment to imagine a world where the Disney Channel (circa the late-2000s) owned the distribution rights to “Black Mirror” instead of Netflix, and then picture the mutant creations that would exist as a result—that, ladies and gentlemen, is “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too,” the final episode of Season 5. Bouncing between the dual narratives of Rachel (Angourie Rice), a lonely teenage girl, and Ashley O (Miley Cyrus), the pop icon Rachel idolizes, any intrigue, interest, or individuality that episode three hopes to expound upon fizzles out before the conclusion of its first act.
While unoriginality causes “Striking Vipers” and “Smithereens” to wander around without any clear intent, contrarily, this Cyrus-starring entry cannot be compared to any other “Black Mirror” episode so far—for the worst reasons possible. It’s painful to imagine Charlie Brooker, a showrunner responsible for writing some of the most well-respected science fiction of the past decade, allowing anything as childish, poorly executed, and downright goofy as “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” to associate itself with the “Black Mirror” brand. But, who knows? Perhaps creating an episode starring a cutesy, profanity-spewing robot is what Brooker had planned all along. Were all four seasons of “Black Mirror” simply a long-form con game leading up to Miley Cyrus singing a cringe-worthy cover of a Nine Inch Nails song? The world may never know.
Discounting goofy conspiracy theories and desperate excuses, “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” is indefensibly shoddy craftsmanship that deserves the barest minimum of recognition merely for the schadenfreude of sitting in a front-row seat to behold one of the worst “Black Mirror” episodes to debut so far. [D+]
