Amnesia plots are a television staple often derided as a convenient method of slowing down or speeding up a story. Soap operas have used this device for decades, and memory loss can be hard to deploy without tipping into ridiculous territory. Luckily, “Surface” doesn’t stretch credibility too far in its premise, and the central performances bolster this framing. Some leaps (pun not intended) are made, but the twisty thriller is an entertaining exploration of identity. By the end of the eight-part first season, there are still multiple questions to be answered, which does prove frustrating. Yet, there is still plenty to enjoy in the latest offering from Apple TV+ that utilizes its San Francisco location and continues to keep you guessing.
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“Who do you trust when you can’t trust yourself?” is one of the big questions at the heart of “Surface.” Five months have passed since Sophie Ellis (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) woke up in hospital after suffering a traumatic head injury. The last thing she can remember is nearly drowning, but everything that came before isn’t just a blur; it is entirely blank. Losing her long-term memory is an extreme consequence of this accident, which is believed to be an attempted suicide. After all, she seemingly chose to jump off the ferry she was traveling on, and everyone who is part of her recovery agrees this is what happened. Of course, there is more to this backstory.
Beginning this journey after Sophie has semi-reacclimatized to her swish surroundings emphasizes that while her physical injuries have healed, she is still processing what has been called a suicide attempt. The cause of her accident conflicts with the picture painted by her loved ones. “But if my life was so perfect, why did I try to end it?” is a question everyone around her refuses to address. The reasons why someone makes this choice are illimitable, and the conversations surrounding Sophie’s mental health are thoughtful and handled with sensitivity. However, I was surprised that on the screeners provided, there are no warnings about the content or phone numbers pointing viewers to resources like the Crisis Text Line and the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline — something “The Girl From Plainville” did.
As with other Hello Sunshine productions like “Big Little Lies” and “Little Fires Everywhere,” the concept of picture-perfect life is torn apart by long-buried secrets, but one big difference is that Sophie is as in the dark as the audience. Whereas both Reese Witherspoon-starring shows focus on suburban family life, the San Francisco location and lack of children ensure it is not a case of the star retreading old ground in her executive producer role. And unlike those titles, “Surface” is not adapted from a best-selling novel.
Director Sam Miller (“I May Destroy You,” “Luther”) quickly establishes the destabilizing sensation of losing everything you ever knew through flashbacks, stilted conversations, and sessions with therapist Hannah (Marianne Jean-Baptiste). At times the edges of the screen are out of focus, and the sound is distorted, further heightening the disquieting tone. A fog enveloping the city mirrors Sophie’s state of mind and Miller dials up the atmosphere using the surroundings. Despite her unique circumstances, Sophie pushes back against the image of her life that everyone is keen to make her believe. The walk-in closet packed with designer dresses, shoes, and expensive jewelry is enviable. Still, this doesn’t provoke much emotional reaction because her old tastes have disappeared along with those memories. Costume designer Sara Byblow conveys this through the one dress Sophie keeps returning to and the fact she is at her most comfortable in all-black running attire.
On the street full of colorful three-story townhouses, it is noticeable that the Ellis residence is black to match the void in Sophie’s mind. Photographs of a smiling Sophie and her successful venture capitalist husband, James (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), are part of the Architectural Digest-ready decor intended to prove how happy this marriage was. Instead, it resembles props from a life she doesn’t recognize. This couple has it all on the outside, from the expensive real estate (they also have a vacation home in Marin) to an active social life. To varying degrees, there is an element between the face we wear in public and the one we reveal in public, but Sophie lacks this separation. “Surface” isn’t simply a case of putting the pieces of her life back together but an exploration of the self. The series from creator Veronica West (“High Fidelity,” “Dexter: New Blood”) is at its best when it digs into these existential elements.
“What if I didn’t jump?” is another question that Sophie keeps returning to, and the circumstances of what occurred before she ended up in the water are part of the mystery. Jackson-Cohen as the husband is an effective casting as it plays into the actor’s strengths of conveying subtle menace that could explode at any moment. Roles in “The Haunting of Bly Manor,” “The Invisible Man,” and “The Lost Daughter” have all incorporated Jackson-Cohen’s ease at slipping between charm and intimidation. Still, it isn’t a case of repeating those steps. The husband is always the first suspect, and the holes in his story are a red flag. However, there is a vulnerability to his portrayal, which further adds to the complexity of this dynamic. Ari Graynor is always a welcome sight and takes on a best friend role that isn’t quite what it seems.
Sophie might not know her secrets, but another man in her life is on hand to peel back those layers. Stephan James plays the other person in this love triangle, and I can’t go too much into his character Thomas without delving into spoiler territory. His perspective contradicts the story told by her husband and the group of friends she struggles to connect with during fancy dinners. James gave a brilliant performance in the first season of the twisty Hitchcockian “Homecoming,” which also follows a character whose memory is unreliable. Here, he is more in control but still only privy to specific facts — though his chemistry with Mbatha-Raw is undeniable.
One stable symbol is the Golden Gate Bridge that looms in the background like a harbinger of doom, and I found it impossible not to think about the New Yorker article from 2003 that gave the Sleater-Kinney song “Jumpers” its name. While some of “Surface” was filmed in Canada, the exterior location scenes in San Fransisco are vital to elevating the overall aesthetic and mood. The Bay is often in the background when Sophie goes on daily runs that are both a method of escape and her mind’s way of pushing her past to the front of her mind — even when she isn’t sure why she has ended up at a specific place. It all adds to the unfurling mystery, and the episode called “The Myth of California” is intrinsic to the appeal of this expensive city and how Sophie embraces and shuns this setting.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that Northern California is an Alfred Hitchcock movie location staple (with “Vertigo,” “The Birds,” and “Shadow of a Doubt” set in San Francisco), and Sophie fits two different archetypes that often feature in the iconic director’s work. At times she is the innocent good girl trying to hold onto something tangible, but a darker side suggests a morally ambiguous nature favored by a femme fatale. Mbatha-Raw is equally adept at both and deftly walks the line thrown up by the amnesia plot.
Any frustration that occurs is down to the occasionally palatial pacing, and while the mystery initially unfurls at a decent rate, there are also lags. Memory loss narratives often have baked-in issues, now further complicated by our comprehensive social media trail. Even if Sophie doesn’t have a deep digital footprint, this doesn’t mean no one else in her social circle will. However, this Instagram/Facebook avenue of getting to the bottom of things is ignored. Of all the stretches in plausibility, this is the one I struggle with the most.
“Surface” is a slick psychological thriller that gets bogged down later in the season as it tries to sustain the myriad twists and turns. The repeat images of Sophie running down similar-looking streets gives the impression she is a mouse in a maze she cannot escape from — sometimes, this is how it feels watching her journey. However, the exploration of identity and why we make particular choices ensure the framing of this series isn’t just a cheap gimmick and worth scratching beneath its shiny exterior. [B]
