Image Credit: HBO
There are television series that put the pedal to the metal right out of the gate, unspooling high-concept hooks and explosive turns in the first few minutes so as to compel a viewer into an instant binge. Then there are those that proceed with more patience, building something delicate and resonant one brick at a time. Such shows require you to put your trust in them from the start, yet for the audience prepared to make the investment, they will not be forgotten once the credits have run their course.
HBO’s Station Eleven is firmly of the latter variety. The limited series, which takes its cues from Emily St. John Mandel’s well-regarded 2014 novel, has no need for the former approach.
The setting is the world left in ruins by a flu pandemic that dismantled global civilization in a matter of days; the narrative picks up some twenty years on from that collapse. We are introduced to Kirsten Raymonde (Mackenzie Davis) of the Traveling Symphony, a nomadic band of actors and musicians who make their way through the American Rust Belt putting on Shakespeare for what survivors can be found.
Art, Memory, and the Fragments of the Past
If one comes to it in the mood for an adrenaline rush along the lines of The Walking Dead, the premiere of Station Eleven may be disorienting. It begins with a kind of quiet panic in the wake of a sudden tragedy: the sudden death of celebrated actor Arthur Leander on a stage in Chicago, and the moment paramedic Jeevan Chaudhary puts young Kirsten under his protection.
After that, the story makes a point of slowing down. Showrunner Patrick Somerville has seen fit to arrange things in a non-linear fashion, moving back and forth between the pre-pandemic era, the shock of the outbreak and the reality two decades hence.
It is no parlor trick. This fractured timeline is a means to examine grief and trauma. Where other programs might fixate on the mechanics of a society falling apart, Station Eleven poses a more fundamental question of what gives life value after the end of the world. One finds the answer in the human connections and the culture that are preserved.
A Narrative Puzzle Worth Solving
The contemplative nature of the proceedings calls for some forbearance in the early going. The links between characters and the weight of the themes do not present themselves all at once, and a viewer in search of constant action may be inclined to move on.
But to do so would be a mistake. Give it time and the series becomes an intricate tapestry, with every piece finding its place. As the various timelines come together, the character work attains a depth that is hard to come by. The finale offers a resolution of a poetic sort, one that is quietly profound and has been properly earned, eschewing any need for cheap shocks or cliffhangers.
Station Eleven is not made for having on in the background. It wants one’s full attention and a measure of trust in how it is told. What it gives in return is among the most singular and hauntingly fine television to be had in some time.
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