What’s up Wisecrack, Jared again.
Black Mirror recently returned to Netflix with its fifth season and the response has
been... mixed, or at least more mixed than usual.
Many have noted that the show feels different, and they’re not wrong.
After diving into fan reactions, it seems the main criticisms of this season are, first:
that technology doesn’t drive the plot of episodes like in previous seasons, second:
that it isn't giving us the same head-scratching questions it used to, and third: that it feels
like it's lost its edge in how far the show is willing to go.
But do these criticisms hold up?
We’re going to find out in this Wisecrack Edition on Black Mirror Season 5: Deep or
Dumb?
And of course, spoilers ahead for
all seasons.
Let's start with the first episode.
Striking Vipers tells the story of estranged friends Danny and Karl, who rekindle their
friendship – and much more – through a VR video game called 'Striking Vipers'.
A morally ambiguous virtual fling ensues, but Danny breaks it off out of respect for
his marriage.
Unable to find the same kind of passion with another digital partner, Karl attempts to
revive their digital romance.
They eventually decide to test their attraction in real life to lackluster results, and then
get into a real fight that blows the lid off their affair.
A compromise is reached at the end wherein Danny and Karl can hookup online once a year,
and Danny's wife can go to an ACTUAL bar and bang an actual dude, which feels a little
unbalanced.
Or is it?
So, let’s go to the first issue - technology no longer drives the episodes.
In Striking Vipers, we’re presented with a state of domestic equilibrium that is upset
once Karl introduces the TCKR virtual reality system into Danny’s life.
And this basic premise drives the entire drama of the episode - Danny’s infidelity, whether
or not our two players have feelings for each other, and so on.
However, if we compare it to the episode “The Entire History of You", we can see a slight
variation on the Black Mirror formula.
Like Striking Vipers, this episode introduces a new gadget and frames it around a couple
struggling with infidelity.
Expanding how we document our lives on social media, “the grain” is an implant that
stores a perfect record of everything you've ever done for instant recall.
It even shares some of the same visual cues as Striking Vipers.
In The Entire History of You, the application of the “grain technology” escalates as
our protagonist uses it to uncover more and more troubling elements of the past.
Initially, it’s used to reflect on a job interview, or show off a vacation, then it’s
used to adjudicate a fight - "I didn't mean that."
"You're a bitch."
"I'd like you to erase that."
"You're a bitch."
– until finally, at the end, our protagonist is physically forcing someone to relive their
most intimate moments.
Striking Vipers, however, introduces the morally ambiguous application of technology at around
the twenty- minute mark, and the rest of the conflict escalates only within the relationship
dynamics.
In other words, the premise that you can now use VR gaming to have sex via Avatars is established
early on and the ways in which the technology is used doesn’t escalate, save for the dude
who screws a polar bear.
"I f**ked a polar bear."
Still, Striking Vipers is probably the most 'classic' Black Mirror of the three new episodes.
And that’s because the technology does create a premise which drives a series of philosophical
questions about said technology.
What does romance mean in a world where VR can beam ultra-realistic images into your
brain?
As porn gets more and more sophisticated, at what point does it become cheating?
"But it's not cheating!
It's-it's-it's not real!
It's-it's like.... porn... or something."
"C'mon man, you know it ain't right."
What does that VR mean for sexuality, when a straight dude can embody a female avatar
and have virtual hetero sex with another straight dude?
Or, more broadly, how does VR technology affect our perception of self?
If Karl is attracted to other men but only when inhabiting a female avatar, can virtual
reality allow us access previously dormant aspects of our “self”?
Or are these aspects exclusive to the VR experience?
The influence of digital avatars on our meatspace selves is a pretty fascinating area of study.
In the book Infinite Reality, authors Jim Blascovich and Jeremy Bailenson detail several
studies exploring VR’s psychological effects and how VR DOES alters our perception of self
- both WHILE and AFTER using it.
For instance, people inhabiting a taller avatar feel more confident during and after using
VR, inhabiting an attractive avatar makes people more warm and social, inhabiting older
avatars makes younger people more concerned about saving money, and using a physically
fit avatar makes people want to exercise more.
To be fair, the book isn’t about screwing people via digital proxies, but the larger
point can help inform our understanding of the episode.
As Striking Vipers suggests, the effects of VR aren’t just limited to the game - both
Carl and Danny’s IRL relationships suffer, and it makes them ask basic questions about
who they are - as they both have to consider if they truly love each other outside of the
digital world.
They don’t, which raises the question of how much our physical bodies shape our relation
to the world.
When we enter into a new corporeal form, do we also inhabit a whole new identity?
This more or less speaks to a mind-body exploration, but, more precisely, a mind-avatar one.
But, as many have pointed out, the episode doesn’t offer any firm answers to any of
the questions raised about identity.
And part of that leads into the third criticism - that the show has lost its teeth.
Because it doesn’t offer any answers, it’s hard to see it as giving a biting commentary
on technology.
Whereas The Entire History of You ends in the ruin of our protagonist’s marriage,
Striking Vipers ends with a more-or-less optimistic state of equilibrium.
Although this may be a new flavor of Black Mirror only seen occasionally in the likes
of San Junipero, it’s lack of soul-crushing pessimism doesn’t necessarily make it a
bad episode.
Although it breaks some elements of the Black Mirror formula, it’s still an episode with
BIG questions to ask about some REAL scientific and social issues.
So, this episode gets Wisecrack-certified 'DEEP'.
The second episode, Smithereens, tells the story of ride-share driver, Chris, who kidnaps
an intern from the Twitter-stand-in 'Smithereen', holding him to ransom so he can speak to the
company's Jack Dorsey-esque CEO, Billy Bauer.
When they're finally on the line with each other, Chris explains how he killed his wife
in a car crash because he was distracted by the app.
With his mission fulfilled, Chris ties to kill himself but the intern intervenes.
In the scuffle, a police sniper fires at Chris - the end.
So, first up - does technology drive the episode?
Well, Sort of.
The main plot may seem like a regular kidnapping story, but Chris’s ability to get a hold
of the right people at Smithereen is entirely dictated by his access to a phone.
"Your phone.
Where's your phone?"
"...It's in the other car."
Asymmetrically, the Smithereen technology has immediate access to everything about him
pretty immediately.
This discrepancy often drives tension, as Chris uses Smithereen to find out they’ve
been spying on him, bringing him ever closer to the edge.
The big distinction between this and other Black Mirror episodes is that we’re not
constantly introduced to novel applications of some future technology in order to escalate
the conflict.
It’s also worth noting that this episode takes place in the recent past, so there’s
nothing really sci-fi here.
Which is fine.
But if that’s the premise then you hope the show has something profound to say about
the technology we currently have.
Unfortunately, this is where some people feel Smithereens is at its weakest.
"Ah, f**k."
So - does it give us a good philosophical question or two?
A lot of the criticism leveled at this episode comes from the ‘twist’: the revelation
that Chris crashed the car and killed his wife because he was checking his phone.
Some have seen this as a sort don’t text and drive PSA which is not exactly original
or interesting as entertainment.
But beyond that, there might be a much more foreboding message.
Namely how much control large Silicon Valley companies have over our lives and society
in general.
Using data, Smithereen can discover everything about Chris long before the police, or even
the FBI.
"Listen, Ms. Wu, we've identified the suspect."
"Christopher Gilhainey, former school teacher, 33 years old, he has a Smithereen profile."
Also, Billy Bauer gleefully invokes a 'God Mode' on his laptop.
It’s exact function is unclear, but we’ll take a hint from the word “god."
Far from being just a criticism of how we use social media, the episode is a critique
of society's dependence on it as a whole, and the terrifying power these companies wield.
This is framed by a grieving mother, looking for answers about why her daughter killed
herself by trying to figure out her social media passwords.
"I'm her mum.
You'd think they'd give me the password to my own daughter's account, but no."
Of course, the companies won’t help her, meaning a faceless tech company knows more
about her daughter and her death than she does.
Then there’s Bauer’s speech about him losing control of the company alongside Chris's
confession about the crash and its causes.
"I'm like some kind of... f**king bullsh*t frontman now."
As a climax, these two speeches may not have the same everything's-gone-to-sh*t-and-we're-all-doomed
aspect other Black Mirror stories have, but it has a lot more EMOTIONAL bite to it that
is equally hard to ignore.
The show doesn't just lay the blame solely at the feet of a smartphone user when things
go wrong.
As the show hints, it’s as much the fault of the unchecked optimization for addictiveness
and rampant privacy invasion which has created a world where phone companies themselves have
to make PSAs telling you to turn off your phone when driving.
It might not be offering any new philosophical questions or interpretations of technology
but it speaks volumes to modern frustrations around corporate control.
For that reason we're giving this episode a soft 'DEEP.'
Well, let me rephrase that: we're giving it a 'Deep enough' rating.
In the final episode Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too, Miley Cyrus plays Ashley-O, a thinly-veiled
version of Hannah Montana, who feels trapped in her pop persona and suffers from depression.
Meanwhile, superfan Rachel gets a robot version of Ashley-O that malfunctions when it learns
Ashley is in a coma brought about by her evil Aunt who drugged her to take control of her
creative output.
The robot is an exact copy of Ashley's consciousness and asks Rachel and her sister Jack for help
to free the real Ashley.
They take the robot along, save the real Ashley, and expose her evil aunt.
As we’ve mentioned, in typical Black Mirror, the technology is what pushes the story along.
Whether’s that’s the exercise bike economy, a memory reading implant, or making a sex-doll
based on your dead boyfriend’s tweets.
Obviously, this episode has technology: The Ashley robot, its consciousness, some software
that can write songs from brain scans, and so on.
But there’s one big problem: the tech isn’t actually important to the plot.
Let me give you a little scenario.
If, in Nosedive, we swapped out the people-rating software for anything else... say a central
written record of whether or not people hate you, the episode would not be the same.
You could not make a cautionary tale about how people’s judgments become increasingly
dangerous without the technology that amplifies those judgments.
Nor could you comment on people’s online personas versus offline.
That’s how a ton of good, smart sci-fi works.
You can’t remake Star Trek by replacing a starship with a Honda Civic.
Conversely, if you gave John Wick a laser-gatling gun, we wouldn’t call say it’s ABOUT technology
like Black Mirror is.
That’s because whether he’s using a hunting knife, a gun, a book, a pencil, or some yet
undiscovered killing device, the point is still that someone killed Keanu Reeves’
dog.
Rachel, Jack and Ashley too falls into that latter camp.
It’s essentially: kids get roped into a pickle, break into some stuff, do something
important, and all become friends.
Whether they have slingshots or a sentient doll is besides the point.
You can replace or reframe a lot of the tech in this episode and still tell the same story.
Take for instance, the brain-scanning song writer.
If they just stole her diary to write songs, the plot is functionally the same.
There’s a fancy computer that rewrites her angsty songs to be poppy, which a human could
have done.
Also, there’s a hologram, which we’ve already done to poor Tupac.
That one is harder to extricate from the plot, but the basic question of “what happens
when an artist loses control of their intellectual property” doesn’t really need tech to
play out, but we’ll get there.
Ashley Too isn't about electric mouse catchers, robot dolls, or songwriting software, it's
about two lonely teenagers and an exploited pop star looking to fill a void in their lives.
But even if the technology isn’t driving the plot, it is still a big part of it, so
what is it saying about the technology?
The idea that a piece of software can be used to extract and rewrite something as abstract
and creative as a piece of music is certainly interesting, but it’s actually a little
behind the times when it comes to the music industry exploiting artists.
The question of artists not owning their music or likeness has been going on in the courts
for fifty years or more.
Michael Jackson bought the publishing rights to the entire Beatles back catalogue, Amy
Winehouse never consented to the release of the demos and unreleased tracks that made
up her posthumous album 'Lioness,' and the late Dr. John had songs released under his
name, without consent, that the label hired an impersonator to sing.
Intellectual Property disputes don't require a futuristic technology to tell their story.
So, what about the question of a consciousness being trapped inside a device?
Well, this has been better explored in several episodes before, most notably, in White Christmas.
The second of the stories in White Christmas shows a consciousness being trapped inside
a digital egg that is tortured into submission to act as an electronic home assistant.
At the beginning of the story we are shown how painful and disorienting the process of
removing the 'Cookie' containing the digital self is, and the snapshot of the existential
questions you'd ask if your consciousness had been duplicated.
“Oh my god am I dead?!”
"No!
No."
The idea of maintaining consciousness outside of the body and the questionable ethical and
moral areas is at the center of White Christmas, but left unexplored in Ashley, Too.
The robot and the real Ashley meet each other with no existential crises.
At first, we expect everything to go horribly wrong with the Ashley Too and for there to
be awful consequences to this technology, but that’s not what happens, instead we
get a fun, heist-style adventure that abandons most of the tech in favor of a car chase.
So, if it isn’t as much about the technology and what it’s saying about tech isn’t
very new or interesting, then it surely must have a sobering finale right?
Something like, Ashley doesn’t make it and the Aunt makes billions off her brain, or
the robot having to create its own existence...
But, unfortunately not.
Ashley Too has the most unambiguously happy ending of all three, which is probably what
pissed so many people off about it.
There are no profound lessons about the digital future to be learned, but maybe something
to be learned about how we interact with one another in real life.
It's just a fun episode.
For that reason, we're giving this episode a hard 'Dumb,' but that doesn't mean we didn't
enjoy it.
Since it began, Black Mirror has constantly delivered a sense of catharsis about where
technology is taking us.
But with things like China’s Social rating system ACTUALLY HAPPENING, maybe the show
has realized that we can't put the lid back on the Pandora's Box of technology.
So instead, it's trying to offer suggestions on how to navigate life in our modern digital
dystopia.
There's no point in telling people to beware of what technology might one day mean when
we're already hyperaware of those dangers, and in some cases, living them.
Instead, Charlie Brooker seems to be giving us more of an emotional bite that might better
help us understand our current digital domain.
For that reason, we're gonna give season five as a whole a soft 'Deep' rating, because y'know
what?
At least it's trying.
Keep doing you, Black Mirror.
But what did you think, Wisecrack?
Was the latest season deep or dumb?
Leave us your thoughts in the comments and we'll see you next time.
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