Chernobyl is a limited five-episode miniseries from American Network HBO released concurrently in partnership with British Network Sky Atlantic and is written/created by Craig Mazin, quite the departure from Mazin‘s previous catalogue of writing comedies such as The Hangover Trilogy and Identity Thief, as he turns in this devastatingly captivating albeit monstrously bleak dramatic narrative that depicts one of the greatest man-made tragedies to befall mankind since the dawn of this planet.
HBO is in a little funk at the moment creatively speaking. At the time of this review, their ridiculously successful series Game of Thrones has just aired its penultimate episode, and with the series finale only a week away, the award-winning network hasn’t cemented nor fortified a strategy of where to head next. Granted, truly this isn’t the “end” per se of Game of Thrones, we will undoubtedly be inundated with sequels, prequels, inter-quels, mid-quels etc. for decades to come, but that doesn’t really solve a problem that HBO has successfully modeled itself on with original programming that gave us Boardwalk Empire, The Sopranos, The Wire, Eastbound and Down, and True Detective, but they all cease to exist at this point in time and for others; they should’ve ended some time ago.
Every big programmer from the likes of Showtime, AMC and even HBO are looking for that big franchise, the money maker if you will. Showtime had Twin Peaks The Return headed by original creators David Lynch and Mark Frost. AMC had it with Breaking Bad and lost it with The Walking Dead. HBO on their release horizon is looking quite stiff. They’ve got season two of Big Little Lies dropping from Andrea Arnold, a Damon Lindelof production of Alan Moore’s Watchmen, and a muted viewership of Barry and steady decline of Westworld fans that ultimately populate the subscribers of HBO.
Nothing from that list is going to take the mantel away from Game of Thrones, and mentioned previously, if nothing can captivate a large audience of viewers in this world of multiple opportunists streaming sites with Netflix and Amazon Prime now two MAJOR conglomerates of media, you can surely bet on a drastic coup of subscribers if the material available doesn’t suffice. All you have to do is look at AMC as a prime example.
After Mad Men and Breaking Bad had their final curtain call, nothing of the calibre of those two shows was waiting in the wings for their respective die-hard fans to pick up. The Son was over before it even started. The Walking Dead has been in a creative coma for almost as long as it’s been on their air, and its sister show Fear the Walking Dead steadily is falling suite. Preacher and Into the Badlands are both cancelled. You’ve only really got either The Terror and Better Call Saul that leads the way. The former being an anthology tale that has a resulting rocky viewership with a gamble each and every season due to the differing narratives on offer, and the fate of the latter is vicarious with each renewal possibly being it’s last. And it begs the question come next Monday, how many of these fans are still going to be in the hands of HBO?
Will It Save HBO?
Craig Mazin’s Chernobyl is not going to fill the void that Game of Thrones is going to leave after its finale at HBO. However, that’s not to say that the series itself isn’t a classic stellar staple of a production from HBO that has once again crafted, speaking primarily in terms of the premiere episode, a compelling piece of narrative storytelling.
There are no dragons here burning the innocents of Westeros, Italian-American crime boss Tony Soprano ruling New Jersey or Cowboy robots gaining consciousness. We’re being offered something distinctively different and unique with this tale. Chronicling the devastating events and resulting political/nuclear fallout of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster that occurred in Ukraine April 1986. It’s a brutally haunting spectacle that has no qualms about getting underneath your skin with horrifying subtle events.
Premiere episodes are always a tricky little blend to find a sense of magic. It’s relatively rare you’ll find a series will have an outstanding first entry and finale. In one relatively short hour, you have to devise a plan of action that sets a tone, interesting character arcs, entertainment value, and intrigue to follow up the rest of the series.
For the most part series director, Johan Renck achieves each and every goal set out in front of him to conceive something that in the forthcoming weeks could turn into something possibly quite special. “1:23:45” is the first in a series of five episodes. It begins in a non-cyclical fashion, two years after the events of Chernobyl have actually occurred in 1988 with Valery Legasov played by Jared Harris chronicling the aftermath in a cassette recorder. Moments later you’re thrust back into 1986 in Pripyat, Ukraine SSR at 01:24 AM in a small apartment home of Lyudmilla and Vasily Ignatenko, played by Jessie Buckley and Adam Nagaitis, with the former waking to make a cup of tea is left trembling after hearing a large bang and small earthquake rattle through her kitchen. Out of the window in the distance, the V. I. Lenin Nuclear Power Plant erupts into flames emitting a distinctly eerie glowing halo into the sky.
The narrative exercised is incredibly immersive and engaging with how it flows. It’s this choice of narrative and writing from Mazin that offers so much in terms of depth. We’re not building up to any climatic event. We know as an audience contextually where this story ends within its first few frames. With the audience having a knowledgeable point of reference and somewhat knowing where this arc will eventually reach. The event itself is allowed to unfold in real time before our eyes. Resulting in a larger impact as the series progresses in this sense of real-time narrative. By the end of this first episode, we know just as much, if not slightly more concerning the political agenda that brews, than the innocent bystanders watching this nuclear plant burn away in the night.
Haunting Subtle Details
If Chernobyl does anything right it’s that it throws you – the audience – completely and utterly into this chaotic storm. It’s a bombardment of character, character, and even more character throughout. We’re introduced into a host of possibly fifteen or more characters who play integral, or even small bit parts in this horrifying event. There is a lot to process here, slowly but surely, the writing and narrative collide with great effect. We’re given small snippets of engagement with each separate individual.
Adding upon either the setting itself or the resulting impact this disaster is going to effect. It is steadily generating engagement with character and audience in a subtle organic fashion. Not one performance necessarily stands out. It’s a collective ensemble with each individual having their own repertoire. The always distinctively talented Con O’Neill as Bryukhanov is the highlight here with a stand out performance, of which I’m hoping we explore and see more of. O’Neill has this discernment of crafting highly unique characters, and even with his character literally having a small stature, it doesn’t dampen how much power O’Neill brings in screen presence because it’s gigantic. Donald Sumpter as Zharkov has a scene-stealing cameo in an incredibly glib and grim sequence in which selfish political agenda takes over empathy and compassion. It’s daunting and uncomfortable to bare witness knowing the impending disaster this is still yet to occur.
The political undercurrent is here but it’s simmering away in the background and while apparent, it’s clear that Mazin is plotting away in small occurrences for a prominent more consequential collision later on. Whether that said result and reveal will be worth it, we will have to wait and see. However, the focus is firmly on the disaster itself and the way the mini-series is shot and edited to evoke a documentary aesthetic by series cinematographer Jakob Ihre with editors Jinx Godfrey and Simon Smith.
The concoction conveyed is nothing short of being visually traumatising and hauntingly immersive. It perfectly captures the era and circumstance of this event. Its dark and glib colour grading is brutal on the eye, subconsciously burning its visual into the back of your skull with how sinister and uncomfortable the intense close-ups with handheld footage placing you in far too close proximity to this brimming dread that fills the screen.
We’re given quite clever visual references of the depth and damage that is occurring, and thankfully it’s never heavy-handed or in your face details that evoke a condescending attitude. The calamity and damage of this unknown radiation is a prime example. Nobody explicitly knows what’s happening and that impacting unknown anxiety is intensified with these wonderfully visual cues.
That being said the verbal side to such could take some inspiration from the visual fastidious attitude. The former is far too brazen and brash at times with the screenplay in regards to the expositional dialogue. Certain conversations and dialogue are far too keen and on the nose. The writing, in particular, is specifically tailored to reveal characters identities and situations surrounding the cold war. Expositional detail that is far from organic or natural dropping out of thin air and drastically taking the atmosphere and tension away that this episode relishes in.
Chernobyl continues on HBO and Sky Atlantic every Monday.
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