Station Eleven plays with memory as it expands on one key character
Flashbacks and callbacks to pre-pandemic times abound in this week's pair of episodes
TV Reviews Station Eleven
Station Eleven comes at a weird time of the pandemic—but then, I guess anytime during the pandemic would be a weird time. But I’ve wondered often about the decision to premiere the series over the course of the holiday season and into the new year. While the first few episodes were unwelcome reminders of the scariest parts of 2020, the latest episodes crack the show open, letting shimmers of hope and light shine through.
Am I being maudlin because of the show or because of the time of year? It’s hard to tell. Even the decision to mete out episodes two or three at a time changes the nature of viewing. The cliffhanger at the end of the episode six, “Survival Is Insufficient,” with Kirsten attacked by poison darts, is swiftly dismissed in her hallucination-cum-memory in episode seven, “Goodbye My Damaged Home,” when her younger self gives her the antidote.
By eschewing cliffhangers for the sake of capturing viewers—like they did last week—the writers get to stay present in the emotions of the latter episode, which is focused on Frank.
I love, love, love how the show deals with Frank, especially compared to the book. I hated how doomed the character of Frank was in the book for being in a wheelchair, even though it was a tragic way to underscore how these apocalyptic fantasies in science fiction usually leave out disabled characters. But thanks to Kirsten joining the group, and Frank and Jeevan having a sister, Frank’s personality gets to have a complexity and nuance that is so compelling to watch. It helps that the actor playing Frank, Nabhaan Rizwan, can make a simple stare full of suspense and emotion.
The episode is meant to be a memory seen through 8-year-old Kirsten’s eyes, but newly understood by the 28-year-old Kirsten. It’s a neat memory trick, akin to the BoJack Horseman episode, “Time’s Arrow,” which is told from BoJack’s mom’s perspective, which muddled by her dementia. Both these shows play with memory with an undercurrent of psychological understanding. Of course a 28-year-old Kirsten can tell that Frank didn’t come with them because he was already gone, even if 8-year-old Kirsten didn’t—or couldn’t—piece that together. She also newly understands Jeevan’s discomfort and fear with the situation now that she’s feeling a mirrored version of it with Alex and the traveling symphony.
Ah, Jeevan. Jeevan was my favorite character in the novel, not least because Indian American people rarely even show up in apocalyptic movies, but his characterization here is much less scattershot and more just plain scared. He has very strong “youngest brother energy,” which is illustrated in how Frank urges him to be brave for Kirsten and how Jeevan talks to himself like he’s talking to his sister Sia when he’s trying to self-soothe or figure things out.
Meanwhile, Frank acts as, to quote Pacific Rim, “a fixed point.” He is strong for both Kirsten and Jeevan, even as he himself is struggling with heroin withdrawal and has his own unaddressed pain, the emotional wound of his injury forcing him from being an investigative journalist with Vanity Fair to an autobiography ghostwriter for the rich and famous. I wish we could just get a spin-off where Frank lives, in an uncluttered, non-pandemic world. To yet again bring in a parallel to Pacific Rim, Frank is an older brother whose weighty responsibilities means he feels the need to keep Jeevan at arm’s length.
Again, the timing of “Goodbye My Damaged Home.” How many of us are with, or wishing to be with, our families now? Especially after more than a year under lockdown. How many of us, in contrast, have been with our families so long we’re frustrated that our every move is attached to theirs?
The episode counts down to Kirsten’s play, based on the Station Eleven comic book. She gives Frank the death scene, which feels less like a clunky omen and more like her childhood self picking up on bits of evidence that Frank doesn’t necessarily want to keep going in this type of world. The way his death plays out is a surprise to us all, including those of us who read the book: because Jeevan moved the barricade to go outside, a man breaks in and stabs Frank before Jeevan kills him. That’s the knife that, eventually, Kirsten carries with her everywhere. The moment is a majestic piece of dramatics, like that of a real play—Jeevan is holding Frank’s would-be dying body, refusing to accept it, when Frank gets stabbed and pulls out the knife himself. And then Jeevan, who, just a day ago, debated throwing himself out an open window, has to take Kirsten and leave.
You’ll notice I don’t go too deep into episode six, “Survival Is Insufficient,” which starts a story that we’ll likely see more of next week. It’s also a lesser episode, in every way. The symphony reels from Gil’s death, but we don’t get a good sense of what everyone knows. Alex comes back without seeming to notice that Kirsten is gone. The symphony is taken in by the man who wants them to go to the museum (as noted in the last recap’s comments, I mixed up the museum and the prophet’s group). And after she finds marked would-be graves for the symphony, Kirsten goes to find the Prophet.
There is one scene that stood out to me. The Prophet uses the Station Eleven comic book as a campfire story with the kids, but tells Kirsten he lost the book. He also tells Kirsten how he got it, and how his father’s first wife, Miranda, knew Spanish but his father didn’t know that, and he’d complain about her to his father over the phone in Spanish. This was a scene in “Hurricane,” the Miranda-centric episode. I’m sure Spanish speakers had one over on us on that one, but now we know that Miranda had one over all of us, even then. But how does this kid know that?
But what’s striking is that Kirsten doesn’t take the bait. And why would she? The prophet has killed her friends and preyed on her family. He acts like her trust can be bought and sold, based on ransoming her friends; he persuades with great violence and manipulation. The way he talks about the museum, even, shows how distorted and angry his perspective is. Unlike him, Kirsten has had a real family she could trust, who put her needs first. She knows authenticity when she sees it.
Stray Observations
- The only thing I wish they’d changed about Frank is his name. Sia, Jeevan, and…Frank? Frank?? FRANK???
- The image Kirsten sees of Frank’s apartment is similar to the first few frames of the series, showing cities overrun with greenery. That always reminded me of the hungry greenery in Annihilation.
- Did the conductor tell Dieter she could tell he loved her? I didn’t quite understand that scene.
- How do the kids have the conductor’s glasses, and what glasses is she wearing now? When she throws up on the way to the museum, I thought about the way that disability advocate Imani Barbarin has pointed out that needing glasses—especially a strong prescription—is basically a disability. It’s just not presented that way because so many people need glasses, and the term “disability” usually translates to a lack of aid or representation.
- The red bandanas and Gil’s explanation of them in the beginning of the episode were a weird but interesting peek into the many more tribes of the post-pandemic world.
- Will we ever get an episode where someone doesn’t die? Maybe that’s just too much to ask.
44 Comments
This show is SO good I can’t believe one of the best shows of the year was left to drop at a weird time like this
It’s really, really good. And while I also think the release time is weird, I am enjoying the schedule they’ve chosen to release it on. It’s a good hybrid of weekly releases and binge-watching. The first three episodes in week 1 let you feel like you got far enough into the story to get invested. And two episodes last week and this dole out the plot development while maintaining the forward development. I think that was a really smart move on HBO’s part.
Do we know if the final 3 eps drop next week?
I read that next week will be episodes 8 and 9, with the finale being released on its own on Jan. 13.
To each his own. I find it very boring. Not walking dead boring but boring
The image Kirsten sees of Frank’s apartment is similar to the first few frames of the series, showing cities overrun with greenery. For some reason, those interior vegetation shots are where I keep finding the limits of my ability to suspend disbelief. I know it’s been 20 years, but where are all of these seeds coming from in a super urban environment like Chicago. Did the pandemic upend the normal natural laws about soil, and water, and sunlight? Did none of these buildings have normal cement foundations? The theater auditorium forest in the first few episodes was especially unbelievable: it’s a super dark interior room with several doors between it and the outside world. Where did all the seeds come from? It would be one thing if the before times showed some sort of indoor planter like they have in the airport, but it doesn’t seem to. Plus, everything looks too lush/tropical for the Midwest, where a lot of the smaller/seasonal plants would die off every winter.
Yeah, the vegetation wouldn’t happen. As a gardener, there are a few things that are needed to grow vegetation including dirt/medium and water. Neither would happen in a sealed environment like a condo
And on an upper level story, no less! I guess someone downstairs was stuffing potting mix in their ceiling..
but I guess if it was just her imagination of how things would come to be, and not a flashback of a visit, she could be making up a more poetic/peaceful resting place for Frank based on what her reality in the woods looks like
I thought of that, too—there’s definitely a little bit more leeway when we’re in a poison-induced hallucination, and it’s possible to understand the vegetation as a sort of metaphor for the way memories decay/change over time. However, earlier episodes do the same thing (for instance, with the theater), and those instances seem to suggests a straightforward then/now framing. There’s no specific observer.
I agree with Ken, the image of Kirsten with Frank’s body is in her imagination, so I can accept the plentiful vegetation in that case. The plants growing in the airport…not so sure. 20 years doesn’t seem quite long enough for that to happen.
You should watch the show Life After People. It’s several years old and only one season, but it’s fantastic at showing what would happen if people just disappeared (no bodies left over, because the focus is on what would happen to the structures we built and the pets we left behind and stuff like that.) It’s very interesting.
All I know is that I’ve done my fair share of urban exploring—there might be a vine or two poking in the window after 20 years, but it’s definitely not covered in moss and ferns.Look at the photos of the abandoned buildings in Chernobyl. There are plenty of overgrown trees outside, including on the roofs, but the cement foundations beneath the floors are pretty much intact. And that’s 35 years later.
There’s definitely some poetic license here— they’re going for an immediate signifier of “things have fallen apart further than anything we’ve ever seen”, so it can’t just look like a building that’s been abandoned for 20 years within a still-functioning civilization, it has to look more extreme just as a visual shorthand. And I agree that the dense ferns in the theater shot are over the top, but I don’t think your example of modern urban exploring, or even ruins like Pripyat, is necessarily the only way things can go— you’re going to get more random weedage and moss in a space where the roof has fallen in and a ton of precipitation has hit a bunch of carpets and fabric (plus I think it’s been said that without infrastructure maintenance, parts of Chicago would soon be flooded), compared to an abandoned building with some windows and bare cement floors in a relatively dry area.
I once explored an abandoned mall near Chicago and it had vegetation in areas where the ceiling had caved, including ferns and a fairly tall tree. It had been abandoned 30ish years. No vegetation in areas without sunlight, though.
I live in Baltimore, where there are plenty of old, derelict buildings and it’s not unusual to see them sporting vegetation, sometimes in unusual ways. Neglected structures go to ruin pretty fast— and in a northern city like Chicago once the power fails in winter the pipes will freeze and burst and flood water plus cycles of freeze and thaw will be intensely destructive. Though they should have shown collapsed roofs and/or walls. Soil is not a problem: it will drift inside and plant roots plus molds will break down organic material, and even stone and concrete, to create soil.
I think in this case, not only is she actually hallucinating a memory, but she is doing so while lying in the middle of a forest. So I saw the flora in Frank’s bedroom as a visual cue of her current, real-body, forest setting now seeping into the hallucination-memory as she prepares to “return” to the present/ordinary reality.
the way they are burning through episodes makes me question if it have any future, but every episode in this is truly remarkable
She left the glasses and the invitation to the museum on the ground for Kirstin to find. Somehow the kids found it and beat Kirstin to wherever she was going.I personally found the mention of the red bandanas pretty forced. I’m still on the fence with this show. I liked it better as a Jeevan and young Kirstin survive the apocalypse show, and after the first episode (and some of the latest) it just isn’t that. It’s much less interesting.
I did not read the book, am enjoying the series so far but everything to me feels ominous, as if something terrible will happen any moment. It is a giddy feeling being on edge and unsure, also my mind goes ‘round and ‘round when the episodes are finished. Well written, nicely paced, visually compelling, unusual, original, interesting television viewing but I feel tachycardia throughout!
It’s definitely hitting the Leftovers shaped hole in my TV viewing. I think I’m glad I haven’t read the book yet. (Nor did I read the Leftovers.) From what I keep seeing, this series builds on a ton of original elements.
I am a sucker for futuristic apocalyptic scenarios and this rings all my bells. It does have a Leftovers vibe since I have no idea how it will play out, not sure who to root for/against and feeling like it will end too soon!
Yes, the series departs significantly from the novel. Some of those departures I’ve really liked, particularly with Kirsten/Jeevan. Others, the jury is still out on for me. It will all depend on how they stick the landing with the last few episodes. I’m leery of how they’re setting up the museum of civilization in ways that seem thematically at odds with the main takeaway from the novel (or at least my main takeaway). The prophet is significantly different as well. But overall so far I’m enjoying it as an adaptation.
As another book reader, I couldn’t agree more on how much I love the Kirsten/Jeevan change from the book. This last episode with Frank and Kirsten’s interactions, even moreso.
What’s your take on how the adaptation has used the Station Eleven comic book? If I had a main criticism of the show, it might be how it has used the comic book. The novel sort of has it floating on the periphery and I got the impression that while it mattered in the sense that it was a totem, the actual content/story didn’t matter much (and was even perhaps of questionable quality). The book mattered as a remnant of the past, a symbol of the power of art, an unspoken connection between people, etc. But the adaptation is leaning heavily on the content of the comic book, and that has been the part that has been the most confusing for the people I’m watching with who haven’t read the novel. Captain Eleven, Lonagan, and the Undersea aren’t developed enough to have a lot of clarity or resonance for unaware viewers, I fear. In episode 6 when one of the children says something like, “Welcome to the Undersea,” everyone I was watching was confused about that concept of the undersea. It wasn’t immediately evident to them that it was part of the comic book, and then they needed explained who/what the undersea was. Overall, I feel like that’s the part that has most confounded a lot of viewers. The play scenes with Jeevan and Kirsten and Frank work, because we’re given enough context. But the parts where the comic gets twisted into a philosophical treatise seem shakier to me, mostly because the viewer doesn’t know the book well, so they lack the context to judge exactly how the book is being used/misused.
Your criticism is valid. I think because we spent so much time with Miranda in the series, they chose to do a deeper dive but did leave off the detail needed to pull it together for viewers. I don’t think it was intentional, but rather an oversight. Speaking of Miranda, I guess they’re just going to leave her there in the hotel rather than conclude her story as they did, beautifully, in the book. Maybe it wouldn’t translate, as we were in her head with her thoughts in the book, but it was one of my favorite passages, even while it made me cry. Based on how the book’s interactions between Kirsten and the Prophet conclude, the comic book was vital, even if the story inside it wasn’t as much. That was one change I found jarring in the episode where the kid says “Welcome to the Undersea”; it was something so sacred to the Prophet in the book and in the series he seems fine accepting she knows about Station Eleven.
I suspect we won’t revisit Miranda, and I also think that’s a bummer. In the novel, her ending is so poignant and sad. I think the miniseries could have done better than the very stylized and tonally weird way her episode ended with the vision of Dr. Eleven at her door.
Totally agree re: the moving Miranda dying story in the book. It was one of my favourite parts too.I actually love how they’ve made the comic book more upfront here. In the book, it felt like a massive missed opportunity that the Prophet and Kirsten only had a shared moment with the book quote for like 2 minutes, and she never said any of the quotes to him (which maybe would have made that scene VERY different). Like, there’s this HUGE coincidence, and it’s barely touched on. So I’m enjoying that it is here.
please read the book, its amazing. And then follow that with her next one, THE GLASS HOTEL, which actually includes some characters and places from ELEVEN in an awesome, fan-servicing fun way
It bums me out that streamers are increasingly dropping multiple episodes a week (Always Sunny did that for the first time this year). It robs shows (especially slow burners like this one) of the opportunity to be in the cultural conversation for a longer period of time, which can build audience. By burning off episodes they get maybe 4 or 5 weeks to connect or die. It seems really foolish. That said, I consume these as soon as they drop, no matter how many they give us at a time.
Why “Frank”?It’s a nice name. Richard Nixon’s got a hedgehog called Frank.
Okay, compelling argument.
Well, I agree with you Sulagna — for years (as in decades), my wife thought her uncle’s name was “John” (from India) but when I found out that he had a brother named Mahendra I asked my wife to ask her own brother and he said, “you didn’t know, his real name is “Jadunath” and he goes by John…)
Also, thank you for writing these great reviews, they absolutely enhance my appreciation of the series 🙂
I haven’t read the book so I didn’t have any particular image of the characters ahead of time, but I think just on the show’s own terms, the reviewer’s idea of García Bernal being bad casting for Leander because he’s too likable is off base. I mean… I’ve totally known people like that! Warm and funny and interesting when you’re getting to know them, and they can have warm long-term friendships, and you can still end up feeling like “what a heartless asshole, how could I have fallen for them?”I think García Bernal does a great job of playing Leander’s likable and interesting side and giving him sincere feelings, but also showing that he’s impulsive and self-centered in ways that are always going to doom his long-term relationships. When he first meets Miranda he loves the idea of her, he’s not just horny, he immediately gets starry-eyed and romanticizes her art— but he’s not all that interested in details of who she is and what her art is. Then when the relationship isn’t working, he’s not going to question anything about himself, he’ll just decide that the problem is her and he’ll find someone new to recreate the spark, and then do the same to Elizabeth and avoid even staying in touch with their kid because he just can’t deal with any uncomfortable situation. One really can (unfortunately) be just as pleasant and funny and self-effacing a person as Leander is on this show, and still end up doing those things. Anyone who hasn’t encountered that in real life has just been lucky.
So well put. Exactly. I think the casting for them both is brilliant.
So far I’ve enjoyed the pandemic era exploits of Jevan and Kirsten much more than the rather forced drama and narrative confusion of the current traveling stage group. I didn’t read the novel so I’m trying to run with what I think has happened, but here is a major point I do not understand: Why would the Prophet send children back with bombs to kill Kirsten’s crew, then the story have Kirsten find him and not kill him? She knifed him and left him to die for practically nothing (being creepily threatening) in the earlier episode. Now she lets him live??
They also don’t speak of the detail of the act and the sacrificed / murdered / missing children, all of which leads me to believe that the kids were actually taken by the Creator Museum people, not the Prophet, and used to draw out the acting troupe in subterfuge. If that is indeed the case it explains some plot points, but it doesn’t explain Kirsten and the Prophet completely ignoring the details of the situation upon meeting. Very tropey. And the Prophet’s mother’s flighty assistant/manager (some questionable acting and costuming there) is the same guy in charge of the museum, so wouldn’t the Prophet know that?
The Prophet didn’t send the bomb, he tells Kirsten that one of the kids (“Haley”? my guess, possibly the girl who huffed and ran away when Kirsten came to their camp) came up with the idea when he was injured — that the “story got away from him” when he’s not there to control them. I think part of the reason Kirsten goes along with him from that point (and doesn’t kill him) is because she’s afraid of what the kids might do. Also, I don’t believe his mom’s assistant is in “charge” of the museum, just their messenger/emissary. It seems like the Prophet is still pretty aware of what’s going on at the Museum and who’s there, since he knows the Symphony has been taken and calls it “evil.”
Agreed that almost everything in the present has felt forced and largely unearned.My favorite part was Sayid chastising Alex for being a ridiculous brat. “So Kirsten told you she knifed the Prophet, who was manipulating you into leaving the Orchestra, and then you found out not only was he kidnapping children but deploying them as suicide bombers, and you didn’t thank her?” Like???? I’m sorry you want to rebel against your family that allows people to leave and settle down, but you were just saved from an incredibly dangerous cult, maybe stop whining.
I’m watching this months after you, but for anyone else that is reading after the fact…I think she doesn’t kill him immediately because of his tiny army outside the door (who she now knows have chloroform) and then the Prophet explains to Kirsten that, when he was sick, someone else told the kids to strap on bombs and kill themselves (not him). But I do agree that it’s ridic that she stabbed him earlier, solely for being a bit of a creep. And at the campfire in someone’s town, as if that wasn’t a super-risky thing to do.Totally agree that Jeevan/Kirsten is the best plot! I liked Jeevan’s plot in the book best too (and — MILD BOOK SPOILER: felt a bit robbed that it dropped off, other than that one tiny moment at the end)
I just finished the book this morning, and I absolutely loved it. Should I wait before watching the show? Seems like they changed a bunch, and my memory of the book’s details might be too fresh such that I could be over-fixated on the differences.
In case you’re still on the fence, I’d suggest waiting. The show changes a fair amount of plot points from the book, some for the better and others for the worse. But to me it also falls short in trying to replicate some of the feel of the book while also trying to have the look and feel of prestige TV, which often feels off to me. It also is heavy-handed at times in pointing at its themes, and it wraps itself up in a way that’s a little pat compared to the book. So I’d be inclined to let the book linger for longer before you watch it.
The conductor left her glasses with the invitation to the Museum at the meeting site, and the kids must have gone back and retrieved both because they hand Kirsten the invitation. They mention in the scene in the tunnel that the Museum people provided her another pair of glasses. Also, when she says she’s glad Dieter found someone to love, I think she was referring to the other member of the troupe (who wrote the Hamlet/Portland play). I couldn’t tell though if her collapse was related to the bad prescription in the new glasses, or if something else was going on.
Thanks for clarifying that, screeners don’t have subtitles so it’s easy to miss stuff.
JFC how fucking GREAT is Nabhaan Rizwanin in episode 7?! Goddam. He deserves more recognition for such a brilliant and touching performance. That episode was the standout of the series so far, by a thousand leaps and bounds. I cried. I cried! It was so, so good.