Written post. Spoken + Spelled words on Ep. 6, "Survival Is Insufficient," and Ep. 7., "Goodbye My Damaged Home," two more very strong episodes as the series thrives.
Feeling late to the party for this pair of episodes; I watched 6 and most of 7 quickly, but for some reason 15 minutes before the end of episode 7 (just as the play was starting), I got such a feeling of dread that I had to take several days off before I came back to it, and I just finished last night.
Other thoughts:
- It still feels to me like all the juice is in the story of the "past," and that the "present" plot is powerful mainly to the extent that it informs the past, if that makes sense. We're now late enough into the series that I expected to be much more focused on what happens to the adult Kirsten, but I'm not there.
- After both episodes I was really struck for the first time how few actual sick people we've seen. Except for the scene at the hospital in episode 1 there have been almost no portrayals of sick or dead people. This is really surprising: 99.9% of humanity has died, but evidently all behind closed doors. Even the other apartment that Jeevan visits is blessedly unoccupied. I don't know if this serves the plot in some TBD way, or is a decision of the author/director to keep the focus on the living.
- I am ambivalent about the structure of Goodbye My Damaged Home, having grown-up Kirsten be there with the others. She is clearly processing her past, but from a dramatic standpoint it robbed us of feeling what it really would have been like for Young Kirsten, as horrible as it was.
- Agreed that Frank's apartment was very nice when civilization actually existed, but I really don't understand why the intruder was so intent on having it. Seems like it was just one walk-in freezer with a lake view, among hundreds of others.
Those points all sound pretty negative now that I read them back, but in fact I really enjoyed both episodes. I feel like the show is so good, I want it to be perfect.
In my notes for the episode, I have this exchange:
"If I die, I'll lose control of the story."
...
"When I was hurt, Haley told the kids a different story, that the mines erased the past."
My reading of that was that Tyler did not send the suicide bombers to the golf course, and without that, his redemption arc makes a lot more sense to me
One further thought. One of the most beguiling plot strands is the role of Station Eleven, the comic story. Over seven episodes we’ve had expanding hints at the role, and expanding content dumps, but it’s still a mystery. Will it just be a resonant fable that filled gaps in Kirsten’s and Tyler’s psyches during the 100 Days? Is there part of Station Eleven’s plot that we don’t know about yet, that will be revealed to us integrally with the main plot. What of the early spaceman/astronaut/helmet imagery? Will something magical arise whereby Station Eleven is real? All pointless noodling on my part but what I really wanted to say is that untangling this thread feels like it needs more than the remaining three episodes.
It’s taken me too long to comment. I enjoy ensuring I watch the two episodes in time to get Tim’s comments and then listen to Tim almost immediately, but the time difference meant I didn’t comment right away, and then it all got swept away.
Anyway, both episodes worked really well for me. Ep. 7 in particular illustrated the power of 10 x 45 minutes in a series versus 120 minutes in a film: the script could dwell on the heart wrenching final days in the eyrie apartment. I guess the device of having hallucinating Kirsten revisiting those scenes came from the book, it worked well for me. The whole thing about young Kirsten writing a play based on the book, coupled with Tyler in Ep. 6 telling the kids pre-sleep stories, says to me (powerfully) that we are the stories we tell. (I have five grandchildren aged 4 and under, and I tell them wild stories that are bad but much loved.) I’m going through a stage in life where I’m easily moved to tears if a book/movie is “perfect” (otherwise I’m stony-faced) and Ep. 7 had me a few times. (Two other recent films that seem to have affected me profoundly are Belfast and C’mon C’mon.)
Ep. 6 was spooky and unexpected and wonderful. I like it that we’ve been led to believe Tyler aka The Prophet is a sicko but suddenly he may not be, although ambiguity reigns. As you’ve said, Daniel Zovatto (whose other films I’ve not watched) commands presence without every overplaying. I don’t mind at all that Kirsten seems to be a super warrior with knives, I’m guessing that the book works hard on the back story for that. I find the children of the Undersea most poignant.
So all up, Eps. 1-7 have me transfixed. That doesn’t mean missteps in the final three episodes won’t ruin the whole thing but I appreciate being hooked up until now.
And Tim, I’ve just read today’s post on worrying about choosing the right shows at the wrong time. You don’t need to worry about this, in my humble opinion. Powerful stories, no matter how bleak or eerily reflected outside the screen, lift us up.
Last time I wrote about story structure comparisons with recent novel The Vanishing Half. I now realise why - I'm not spending enough time with characters I care about, and too much time with those I could care less about. I also am not sure yet which ones I want to know more about (maybe Miranda) but the rest all are a bit too precious and whimsical (Frank I wish could have been around longer). I may eat my words after I get to episode 10, and will be happily surprised if it all comes together and I start loving this series. But at this point, it's still too all-over-the-place for me. I always remember Tim's reaction to any time someone says "Just wait til episode 5 (30 Rock) or Season 2 (Parks & Rec for example) when it gets really good!" that he just doesn't have the time or inclination. Had it not been for this homework assignment (which I know I'll be getting a D+ in my exam) I would have stopped around the time the bomb went off.
Something I noted in ep 7 regarding the play: Kirsten plays the rebel undersea leader, right? Might there be something going on that we don't know quite yet about all this? Or maybe in her past that we haven't seen yet? Because we think Tyler is the leader - but what if it is or was Kirsten at some point?
At this point each episode is just incredible, I love them all.
The cinematographic highlight of ep 6 for me: Kirsten standing alone in that field and then one by one the kids start popping up and surrounding her. It's so creepy - these innocents who've been weaponized by Tyler to become killers, people to fear. I don't remember if I ever saw Children of the Corn but as a late Gen Xer there were lots of references to it in my childhood - that's the vibes the scene is giving me.
I still have questions about Tyler. Why is he so dead-set on killing the TS if it's the Severn folks he has beef with? I still haven't seen a clear motivation for that. And the thing he wants to get back from the museum: is it his copy of Station 11?
In general I'm having trouble reconciling the scenes he has with Kirsten, where he seems empathetic and child-centered, and the fact that he has sent these kids to their death via suicide bombs. That's truly evil. But we haven't really seen him be evil onscreen, so it seems like there's still a piece missing in this story.
Ep 7: Really loved getting more Frank time. The Tribe Called Quest "Excursions" scene was so good - such a Gen X moment! One of my favorite lines of the whole show, as a non-fiction writer, is when Jeevan tells Frank to just write a novel. Frank: "I don't make shit up!" LOLL, I can relate.
So the heroin: that's a little out of left field, and it doesn't really work without showing us Frank in withdrawal. Heroin withdrawal seems like it would be REALLY bad.
The technique of having adult Kirsten watch those memories play out is really effective and moving, esp her trying to get little K to leave the day before, knowing it could've saved Frank. Of course, it didn't seem like he was going anyway. That last scene in the present was striking. Just a beautiful episode.
-Another (mostly) self-contained episode in a single location, much like the Severn City Airport episode, which I also liked. Having one set location really allows these great actors to show their acting chops and carry the episode. Impressive casting and acting all around.
-The sad irony that, if Jeevan hadn't unbaricaded the door to look west to convince Frank to go, the man who killed Frank never would have been able to get in.
-The eerie foreboding of Frank telling Kirsten, after learning his character in the play, "so it's my death scene."
-Loved the interactions between young Kirsten and old Kirsten. Such a great way to give these two amazing actresses the ability to share space.
-Frank sacrificing himself by refusing to leave when the intruder told him to do so, and then pulling out the knife to ensure he bled out and die because he knew Jeevan wouldn't leave him behind, was touching.
-Kirsten being able to say goodbye to Frank gave her the first opportunity to do so after mentioning earlier in the episode that didn't get to say goodbye to anybody was a nice way to end the episode.
First, I didn't feel that Kirsten running off on her own felt forced. She feels responsible for Gil's death, is in shock (as noted by another character), and is in fear that more members of the Traveling Symphony will be killed because of her decision to stab the Prophet. I think she left immediately to make sure no more blood would be on her hands (especially after learning that Alex was back and safe). Probably not the smartest move to go after the Prophet on her own, but she's not thinking logically (due to being in shock and racked with guilt), so it didn't feel forced to me.
Second, I'm intrigued by the duality of the Prophet. He's clearly done some bad stuff, but he has also created a narrative/belief system for these kids in a collapsed society that give them meaning and an organizing ethos through which they are able to ascribe meaning to their lives in order to survive in this new world. Yes, recruiting/kidnapping kids isn't great (although the kids seem to join him of their own volition, but are arguably too young to make that decision on their own), but if Kirsten hadn't stabbed him, he probably doesn't kill Gil, doesn't appear to be on track to kill the others, and is just a creepy guy doing what he thinks is best for the post-pan kids of the world (which is a result of the trauma he himself experienced as a kid). Again, he definitely has some bad dude qualities, but I'm noticing more nuance on my second viewing that makes him less of a one dimensional antagonist, and more of a complex figure. I'm also seeing that Kirsten's decision to stab him in the opening episode truly seems to have put all of the events in this series into motion, and I believe things would have been much different if she hadn't done so (ie Alex joins the Prophet, Kirsten is devastated by this but continues on as she has done in the past, and the Prophet keeps recruiting kids to do what he thinks is best for them). It's amazing how one event puts the entire series into motion - great writing indeed.
I have to say that episode 7 was probably my favorite. I enjoyed learning Frank's backstory, and the effect the brothers had on Kirsten. And yeah, the apartment.
I really liked Frank and have been a fan of Nabhaan Rizwan since his debut in Informer, a show I think you'll like.
As far as the apartment, I guess I throw it in with the long line of TV dwellings that would never be affordable to the characters who live there. It is a beautiful place though and I covet it also. I'm a little confused about Kirsten's agreement to work with the Prophet now instead of just killing him.
I loved the parallel of the found-object costumes in Kirsten's play and those used by the Traveling Symphony.
My wife has had to regularly explain Station Eleven to me. Well, it's not really explaining ... her basic points are "be patient, all will be revealed" and "in 10 years, all shows will be like this and we'll think it's normal". (The latter reminds me of the time I showed one of my favorite films, Performance, to a friend, warning him in advance that it had a complex structure ... after watching, he said he didn't understand my caveat because all movies look like Performance now.) She thinks I fear it will be like Lost, where I never shook the notion that they were just making it up as they went. But that's not it. I accept that at some point we will learn what the creators want us to learn, and I don't require that all narrative should be straightforward. I just want to believe that the creators are not being purposely obscure in an insular fashion, not caring if we "get it" or not. So I liked Frank's backstory, and understand that such things require a fractured timeline. But why does young Kirsten have the antidote, why is there a door to the past? My wife would say, be patient, eventually we'll understand, but I want to know the significance of telling Frank's story via the (poison-induced?) fantasies of Kirsten. Truthfully, I just want to watch each episode with Giada Da Ros, because her comments are so lucid and illuminating.
As to episode seven, my final thought was: are we in a video game? The closing music is Liszt's "La campanella", the score of which appears on the piano stand earlier in the episode (with “it’s impossible” written on it) and this is the fourth time at least that it has appeared in the series. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a story I didn't know behind this music. I read on the internet - which is indeed real LOL - that it's also the name of a stage in a video game called "Pianista". Kirsten meets herself from the past and tells her other self she needs to do something differently - give up writing her play and leave a day before. It was like someone playing the same level of a game again and realizing that's the moment when you have to make a different choice in order to change the outcome. I don’t know, maybe it doesn't make sense.
Kirsten going through a door in the woods (very "Legion") is perhaps the effect of the poison in the confrontation with the Bandanas, but Kirsten's encounter with herself, her observing herself was sweet and melancholic. It gave Frank’s backstory, which I liked. Then, to a certain extent I found the encounters between the two Kirstens very true. I don't know if this has ever happened to you too, but in my life, I talked to my past self and told myself that, if for some reason I could perceive myself from the future, I should know that I was going to survive and therefore to hold on. You often hear people asking what you would say to your past self at specific significant moments, so whatever degree of reality or meaning this meeting of different timelines has, I found it really beautiful - I loved the lyrical, quiet, touching tone of what is practically a bottle episode.
And speaking of the apartment, I loved how they visually used the lines, lights and shadows with the windows. Once with the three of them forming almost a triptych in front of each window and once with the two Kirstens positioned in front of the vertical lines.
Last, and most important: it's definitely reassuring to know that even if the apocalypse comes, we can always count on a delicious jar of Nutella. There's hope after all. :D
These two episodes are the ones I felt most emotionally connected to. I loved the beginning of episode 6 with the parallels of the shouted names, also because the last name shouted by young Kirsten evidently isn't the repeated “Alex”, but by lip-reading you can tell it's Jeevan. They muted young Kirsten’s shout and resumed with the adult Kirsten's shout of "Alex". That in itself was powerful. And we see her screaming his name again when she picks up the comic and reads the phrase "captain, I need you to do an impossible task". Then, again, the curling circles at the beginning of this episode and the bodies put in circle at the beginning of the next. From little Kirsten's outfit I got an Alice in Wonderland vibe. Overall kudos to the costume designers, because they really managed to create some great outfits. Was I the only one who thought about the Flying Spaghetti Monster when I saw the colander on the head of the kid who sniffs Kirsten? And how interesting the jacket with the world flags on David. This is the first time I've been able to see the Prophet as a Christ-like, "let the children come to me" figure. And I was intrigued by how the museum of civilization, something I would deem reassuring, is depicted as a menace, and the interconnection between the survival of the Prophet and of the museum.
The two top moments in trying to untangle the underlying mythology were Kirsten reciting the prophecy (does she need to find herself?) and Kirsten explaining to David that Dr. Eleven is a child and that the leader of the Undersea Rebels is in a time loop. In both episodes there is a sense of time - past, present and future - returning and a sense of memory and forgetting: like two tensions fighting each other.
Surely it has no real relevance but I’d like to share it anyway. In recent days, in real life that is, I went to see an exhibition of the master of comics Mœbius, and one of the images was of a person in a space/diving suit that, when he takes it off, turns out to be a child. The guide told us that in the work of this author past present and future are evoked simultaneously: it made me think of Station Eleven, and when Kirsten said that actually Dr. Eleven is a child, I thought back to those drawings. Looking for information about the exhibit, I tangentially came across this image (https://speculativerelationships.tumblr.com/image/172136594321) that reminded me of Jeevan and Kirsten and the back cover of the Station Eleven comic book, with the shape of those clouds that fascinate me so much. The image of the link is the cover of a book by a cult sci-fi cartoonist, Brandon Graham, who also wrote a story called "The Prophet." There's probably no connection, it's just me bumping into these cultural items at the same moment and seeing similarities in them, but I thought of sharing them anyway. A fan of these works could probably say something more meaningful.
One thought I took home from this installment is how stories come to us, speak to us, at a time when we need them most. I love that.
Sarah's death, the not-seeing, the very zombie-like hands on the glass, looking in: suggestive but still to be deciphered for me.
I actually laughed when I saw Brian because I thought "what a nag", kind of like it was a humorous way of saying that if there are elements that return, those are for sure things you have said no to multiple times, but there's actually no humor here, lightness at best, so it's probably not a fair interpretation because it's inconsistent with the series as a whole, and then it's soon revealed to be a kidnapping of sort.
There are still a lot of questions left open for me. The tombstone with the "here lies Kirsten Raymonde". The low-orbit drop: is it true that this is a way to impress the children? The comment of the timelines finally matching. The conversation about understanding and speaking different languages…
I don't know where to put my thoughts on ep 8/9 but I'd sure watch a Jeevan spinoff.
Feeling late to the party for this pair of episodes; I watched 6 and most of 7 quickly, but for some reason 15 minutes before the end of episode 7 (just as the play was starting), I got such a feeling of dread that I had to take several days off before I came back to it, and I just finished last night.
Other thoughts:
- It still feels to me like all the juice is in the story of the "past," and that the "present" plot is powerful mainly to the extent that it informs the past, if that makes sense. We're now late enough into the series that I expected to be much more focused on what happens to the adult Kirsten, but I'm not there.
- After both episodes I was really struck for the first time how few actual sick people we've seen. Except for the scene at the hospital in episode 1 there have been almost no portrayals of sick or dead people. This is really surprising: 99.9% of humanity has died, but evidently all behind closed doors. Even the other apartment that Jeevan visits is blessedly unoccupied. I don't know if this serves the plot in some TBD way, or is a decision of the author/director to keep the focus on the living.
- I am ambivalent about the structure of Goodbye My Damaged Home, having grown-up Kirsten be there with the others. She is clearly processing her past, but from a dramatic standpoint it robbed us of feeling what it really would have been like for Young Kirsten, as horrible as it was.
- Agreed that Frank's apartment was very nice when civilization actually existed, but I really don't understand why the intruder was so intent on having it. Seems like it was just one walk-in freezer with a lake view, among hundreds of others.
Those points all sound pretty negative now that I read them back, but in fact I really enjoyed both episodes. I feel like the show is so good, I want it to be perfect.
In my notes for the episode, I have this exchange:
"If I die, I'll lose control of the story."
...
"When I was hurt, Haley told the kids a different story, that the mines erased the past."
My reading of that was that Tyler did not send the suicide bombers to the golf course, and without that, his redemption arc makes a lot more sense to me
One further thought. One of the most beguiling plot strands is the role of Station Eleven, the comic story. Over seven episodes we’ve had expanding hints at the role, and expanding content dumps, but it’s still a mystery. Will it just be a resonant fable that filled gaps in Kirsten’s and Tyler’s psyches during the 100 Days? Is there part of Station Eleven’s plot that we don’t know about yet, that will be revealed to us integrally with the main plot. What of the early spaceman/astronaut/helmet imagery? Will something magical arise whereby Station Eleven is real? All pointless noodling on my part but what I really wanted to say is that untangling this thread feels like it needs more than the remaining three episodes.
It’s taken me too long to comment. I enjoy ensuring I watch the two episodes in time to get Tim’s comments and then listen to Tim almost immediately, but the time difference meant I didn’t comment right away, and then it all got swept away.
Anyway, both episodes worked really well for me. Ep. 7 in particular illustrated the power of 10 x 45 minutes in a series versus 120 minutes in a film: the script could dwell on the heart wrenching final days in the eyrie apartment. I guess the device of having hallucinating Kirsten revisiting those scenes came from the book, it worked well for me. The whole thing about young Kirsten writing a play based on the book, coupled with Tyler in Ep. 6 telling the kids pre-sleep stories, says to me (powerfully) that we are the stories we tell. (I have five grandchildren aged 4 and under, and I tell them wild stories that are bad but much loved.) I’m going through a stage in life where I’m easily moved to tears if a book/movie is “perfect” (otherwise I’m stony-faced) and Ep. 7 had me a few times. (Two other recent films that seem to have affected me profoundly are Belfast and C’mon C’mon.)
Ep. 6 was spooky and unexpected and wonderful. I like it that we’ve been led to believe Tyler aka The Prophet is a sicko but suddenly he may not be, although ambiguity reigns. As you’ve said, Daniel Zovatto (whose other films I’ve not watched) commands presence without every overplaying. I don’t mind at all that Kirsten seems to be a super warrior with knives, I’m guessing that the book works hard on the back story for that. I find the children of the Undersea most poignant.
So all up, Eps. 1-7 have me transfixed. That doesn’t mean missteps in the final three episodes won’t ruin the whole thing but I appreciate being hooked up until now.
And Tim, I’ve just read today’s post on worrying about choosing the right shows at the wrong time. You don’t need to worry about this, in my humble opinion. Powerful stories, no matter how bleak or eerily reflected outside the screen, lift us up.
Last time I wrote about story structure comparisons with recent novel The Vanishing Half. I now realise why - I'm not spending enough time with characters I care about, and too much time with those I could care less about. I also am not sure yet which ones I want to know more about (maybe Miranda) but the rest all are a bit too precious and whimsical (Frank I wish could have been around longer). I may eat my words after I get to episode 10, and will be happily surprised if it all comes together and I start loving this series. But at this point, it's still too all-over-the-place for me. I always remember Tim's reaction to any time someone says "Just wait til episode 5 (30 Rock) or Season 2 (Parks & Rec for example) when it gets really good!" that he just doesn't have the time or inclination. Had it not been for this homework assignment (which I know I'll be getting a D+ in my exam) I would have stopped around the time the bomb went off.
Persevering from London - Hobo Eric.
Something I noted in ep 7 regarding the play: Kirsten plays the rebel undersea leader, right? Might there be something going on that we don't know quite yet about all this? Or maybe in her past that we haven't seen yet? Because we think Tyler is the leader - but what if it is or was Kirsten at some point?
At this point each episode is just incredible, I love them all.
The cinematographic highlight of ep 6 for me: Kirsten standing alone in that field and then one by one the kids start popping up and surrounding her. It's so creepy - these innocents who've been weaponized by Tyler to become killers, people to fear. I don't remember if I ever saw Children of the Corn but as a late Gen Xer there were lots of references to it in my childhood - that's the vibes the scene is giving me.
I still have questions about Tyler. Why is he so dead-set on killing the TS if it's the Severn folks he has beef with? I still haven't seen a clear motivation for that. And the thing he wants to get back from the museum: is it his copy of Station 11?
In general I'm having trouble reconciling the scenes he has with Kirsten, where he seems empathetic and child-centered, and the fact that he has sent these kids to their death via suicide bombs. That's truly evil. But we haven't really seen him be evil onscreen, so it seems like there's still a piece missing in this story.
Ep 7: Really loved getting more Frank time. The Tribe Called Quest "Excursions" scene was so good - such a Gen X moment! One of my favorite lines of the whole show, as a non-fiction writer, is when Jeevan tells Frank to just write a novel. Frank: "I don't make shit up!" LOLL, I can relate.
So the heroin: that's a little out of left field, and it doesn't really work without showing us Frank in withdrawal. Heroin withdrawal seems like it would be REALLY bad.
The technique of having adult Kirsten watch those memories play out is really effective and moving, esp her trying to get little K to leave the day before, knowing it could've saved Frank. Of course, it didn't seem like he was going anyway. That last scene in the present was striking. Just a beautiful episode.
Quick thoughts on episode 7:
-Another (mostly) self-contained episode in a single location, much like the Severn City Airport episode, which I also liked. Having one set location really allows these great actors to show their acting chops and carry the episode. Impressive casting and acting all around.
-The sad irony that, if Jeevan hadn't unbaricaded the door to look west to convince Frank to go, the man who killed Frank never would have been able to get in.
-The eerie foreboding of Frank telling Kirsten, after learning his character in the play, "so it's my death scene."
-Loved the interactions between young Kirsten and old Kirsten. Such a great way to give these two amazing actresses the ability to share space.
-Frank sacrificing himself by refusing to leave when the intruder told him to do so, and then pulling out the knife to ensure he bled out and die because he knew Jeevan wouldn't leave him behind, was touching.
-Kirsten being able to say goodbye to Frank gave her the first opportunity to do so after mentioning earlier in the episode that didn't get to say goodbye to anybody was a nice way to end the episode.
Regarding episode 6, I have two thoughts:
First, I didn't feel that Kirsten running off on her own felt forced. She feels responsible for Gil's death, is in shock (as noted by another character), and is in fear that more members of the Traveling Symphony will be killed because of her decision to stab the Prophet. I think she left immediately to make sure no more blood would be on her hands (especially after learning that Alex was back and safe). Probably not the smartest move to go after the Prophet on her own, but she's not thinking logically (due to being in shock and racked with guilt), so it didn't feel forced to me.
Second, I'm intrigued by the duality of the Prophet. He's clearly done some bad stuff, but he has also created a narrative/belief system for these kids in a collapsed society that give them meaning and an organizing ethos through which they are able to ascribe meaning to their lives in order to survive in this new world. Yes, recruiting/kidnapping kids isn't great (although the kids seem to join him of their own volition, but are arguably too young to make that decision on their own), but if Kirsten hadn't stabbed him, he probably doesn't kill Gil, doesn't appear to be on track to kill the others, and is just a creepy guy doing what he thinks is best for the post-pan kids of the world (which is a result of the trauma he himself experienced as a kid). Again, he definitely has some bad dude qualities, but I'm noticing more nuance on my second viewing that makes him less of a one dimensional antagonist, and more of a complex figure. I'm also seeing that Kirsten's decision to stab him in the opening episode truly seems to have put all of the events in this series into motion, and I believe things would have been much different if she hadn't done so (ie Alex joins the Prophet, Kirsten is devastated by this but continues on as she has done in the past, and the Prophet keeps recruiting kids to do what he thinks is best for them). It's amazing how one event puts the entire series into motion - great writing indeed.
I have to say that episode 7 was probably my favorite. I enjoyed learning Frank's backstory, and the effect the brothers had on Kirsten. And yeah, the apartment.
I really liked Frank and have been a fan of Nabhaan Rizwan since his debut in Informer, a show I think you'll like.
As far as the apartment, I guess I throw it in with the long line of TV dwellings that would never be affordable to the characters who live there. It is a beautiful place though and I covet it also. I'm a little confused about Kirsten's agreement to work with the Prophet now instead of just killing him.
I loved the parallel of the found-object costumes in Kirsten's play and those used by the Traveling Symphony.
was there a reference to Frank’s have won some major award(s) — my brain maybe inserted “Pulitzer” ??
My wife has had to regularly explain Station Eleven to me. Well, it's not really explaining ... her basic points are "be patient, all will be revealed" and "in 10 years, all shows will be like this and we'll think it's normal". (The latter reminds me of the time I showed one of my favorite films, Performance, to a friend, warning him in advance that it had a complex structure ... after watching, he said he didn't understand my caveat because all movies look like Performance now.) She thinks I fear it will be like Lost, where I never shook the notion that they were just making it up as they went. But that's not it. I accept that at some point we will learn what the creators want us to learn, and I don't require that all narrative should be straightforward. I just want to believe that the creators are not being purposely obscure in an insular fashion, not caring if we "get it" or not. So I liked Frank's backstory, and understand that such things require a fractured timeline. But why does young Kirsten have the antidote, why is there a door to the past? My wife would say, be patient, eventually we'll understand, but I want to know the significance of telling Frank's story via the (poison-induced?) fantasies of Kirsten. Truthfully, I just want to watch each episode with Giada Da Ros, because her comments are so lucid and illuminating.
As to episode seven, my final thought was: are we in a video game? The closing music is Liszt's "La campanella", the score of which appears on the piano stand earlier in the episode (with “it’s impossible” written on it) and this is the fourth time at least that it has appeared in the series. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a story I didn't know behind this music. I read on the internet - which is indeed real LOL - that it's also the name of a stage in a video game called "Pianista". Kirsten meets herself from the past and tells her other self she needs to do something differently - give up writing her play and leave a day before. It was like someone playing the same level of a game again and realizing that's the moment when you have to make a different choice in order to change the outcome. I don’t know, maybe it doesn't make sense.
Kirsten going through a door in the woods (very "Legion") is perhaps the effect of the poison in the confrontation with the Bandanas, but Kirsten's encounter with herself, her observing herself was sweet and melancholic. It gave Frank’s backstory, which I liked. Then, to a certain extent I found the encounters between the two Kirstens very true. I don't know if this has ever happened to you too, but in my life, I talked to my past self and told myself that, if for some reason I could perceive myself from the future, I should know that I was going to survive and therefore to hold on. You often hear people asking what you would say to your past self at specific significant moments, so whatever degree of reality or meaning this meeting of different timelines has, I found it really beautiful - I loved the lyrical, quiet, touching tone of what is practically a bottle episode.
And speaking of the apartment, I loved how they visually used the lines, lights and shadows with the windows. Once with the three of them forming almost a triptych in front of each window and once with the two Kirstens positioned in front of the vertical lines.
Last, and most important: it's definitely reassuring to know that even if the apocalypse comes, we can always count on a delicious jar of Nutella. There's hope after all. :D
These two episodes are the ones I felt most emotionally connected to. I loved the beginning of episode 6 with the parallels of the shouted names, also because the last name shouted by young Kirsten evidently isn't the repeated “Alex”, but by lip-reading you can tell it's Jeevan. They muted young Kirsten’s shout and resumed with the adult Kirsten's shout of "Alex". That in itself was powerful. And we see her screaming his name again when she picks up the comic and reads the phrase "captain, I need you to do an impossible task". Then, again, the curling circles at the beginning of this episode and the bodies put in circle at the beginning of the next. From little Kirsten's outfit I got an Alice in Wonderland vibe. Overall kudos to the costume designers, because they really managed to create some great outfits. Was I the only one who thought about the Flying Spaghetti Monster when I saw the colander on the head of the kid who sniffs Kirsten? And how interesting the jacket with the world flags on David. This is the first time I've been able to see the Prophet as a Christ-like, "let the children come to me" figure. And I was intrigued by how the museum of civilization, something I would deem reassuring, is depicted as a menace, and the interconnection between the survival of the Prophet and of the museum.
The two top moments in trying to untangle the underlying mythology were Kirsten reciting the prophecy (does she need to find herself?) and Kirsten explaining to David that Dr. Eleven is a child and that the leader of the Undersea Rebels is in a time loop. In both episodes there is a sense of time - past, present and future - returning and a sense of memory and forgetting: like two tensions fighting each other.
Surely it has no real relevance but I’d like to share it anyway. In recent days, in real life that is, I went to see an exhibition of the master of comics Mœbius, and one of the images was of a person in a space/diving suit that, when he takes it off, turns out to be a child. The guide told us that in the work of this author past present and future are evoked simultaneously: it made me think of Station Eleven, and when Kirsten said that actually Dr. Eleven is a child, I thought back to those drawings. Looking for information about the exhibit, I tangentially came across this image (https://speculativerelationships.tumblr.com/image/172136594321) that reminded me of Jeevan and Kirsten and the back cover of the Station Eleven comic book, with the shape of those clouds that fascinate me so much. The image of the link is the cover of a book by a cult sci-fi cartoonist, Brandon Graham, who also wrote a story called "The Prophet." There's probably no connection, it's just me bumping into these cultural items at the same moment and seeing similarities in them, but I thought of sharing them anyway. A fan of these works could probably say something more meaningful.
One thought I took home from this installment is how stories come to us, speak to us, at a time when we need them most. I love that.
Sarah's death, the not-seeing, the very zombie-like hands on the glass, looking in: suggestive but still to be deciphered for me.
I actually laughed when I saw Brian because I thought "what a nag", kind of like it was a humorous way of saying that if there are elements that return, those are for sure things you have said no to multiple times, but there's actually no humor here, lightness at best, so it's probably not a fair interpretation because it's inconsistent with the series as a whole, and then it's soon revealed to be a kidnapping of sort.
There are still a lot of questions left open for me. The tombstone with the "here lies Kirsten Raymonde". The low-orbit drop: is it true that this is a way to impress the children? The comment of the timelines finally matching. The conversation about understanding and speaking different languages…