TV Review: "3 Body Problem"
The new series from the creators of "Game of Thrones" is a bit wobbly and rough around the edges, but it's still a thought-provoking and terrifying piece of sci-fi television.
Hello, dear reader! Do you like what you read here at Omnivorous? Do you like reading fun but insightful takes on all things pop culture? Do you like supporting indie writers? If so, then please consider becoming a subscriber and get the newsletter delivered straight to your inbox. There are a number of paid options, but you can also sign up for free! Every little bit helps. Thanks for reading and now, on with the show!
Warning: Some spoilers follow.
Like many other people, I was incredibly disappointed with the last season of Game of Thrones, which showcased all of the weaknesses of creators David Benioff and D.B. Weiss and none of their strengths. To this day, I’m still very perplexed by how badly they managed to squander all of the goodwill they’d earned through the previous seasons. Understandably, then, I felt a great deal of reservation when it came to watching their newest big-budget speculative fiction production, 3 Body Problem, based on the trilogy Remembrance of Earth’s Past by Liu Cixin. As it turns out, however, the series is far better than I expected and, while its first season is a bit rough around the edges, there is definitely more than enough room to grow into its own.
The first several episodes are split between time periods: the 1960s in China and the present in the UK. In the past, Ye Wenjie (Zine Tseng) is forced to watch her father be beaten to death by revolutionaries, after which she becomes part of an experimental station trying to establish contact with extraterrestrial life. Unbeknownst to anyone but her, she does contact the aliens, setting both herself and the planet on a collision course with the beings known as the San-Ti. In the present, meanwhile, a group of five friends–Saul Durand (Jovan Adepo), Jack Rooney (John Bradley), Auggie Salazar (Eiza González), Jin Cheng (Jess Hong), and Will Downing (Alex Sharp) have to contend with the consequence of the impending invasion, even as Clarence "Da" Shi (Benedict Wong) and his superior Thomas Wade (Liam Cunningham) investigate a series of mysterious suicides and an adult Ye Winjie (Rosalind Chao) collaborates with wealthy billionaire Mike Evans (Jonathan Pryce) to serve the San-Ti.
It comes as no surprise that, for the time he’s on the show, Jonathan Pryce’s Mike Evans manages to be a fascinating, frustrating, and utterly unforgettable character. Much like the High Sparrow of Game of Thrones, Price is one of those people who believes completely in his own infallibility. And, much like the High Sparrow, he is undone by his own hubris when, during a conversation with the San-Ti, he inadvertently reveals (through the story of Little Red Riding Hood, no less) that humans, as opposed to the future alien overlords, can lie and deceive. Upon realizing this the San-Ti decide that humans can no longer be trusted as allies nor, for that matter, can they be coexisted with, and they cease all contact. Evans, a man who has prided himself on his privileged access to the quasi-divine San-Ti and his own power, is utterly undone. It’s a moment that perfectly captures the ethos of the series as a whole, which constantly interrogates the question of human agency and its ultimate futility.
However, Evans isn’t alone in his hubris. If anything, Ye Wenjie is even more absolutist in her belief that she has done the right thing by inviting the San-Ti to Earth to solve humanity’s collective problems Both of the actresses who portray her capture the complexities of her character, with Zine Tseng ably conveying the anger and nihilism of a young woman who watched her mother betray her father to her death and has had everything taken from her, while Rosalind Chao superbly captures a woman in her later life grappling with her choices, which have led to the suicide of her daughter. Like Evans, she has been laboring under the mistaken belief that the San-Ti are her allies, and she is shaken by their proclamation that all of humanity are bugs, which is one of the series’ most striking and terrifying moments. In the end, she has to grapple with the consequences of her choices, and it remains tantalizingly unclear whether she regrets what she’s done or feels vindicated.
Now, it has to be said that this series doesn’t have a particularly compelling aesthetic, and I’m in agreement with Phillip Maciac of The New Republic that this is one of its signature failings of imagination. The numerous scenes in which various characters–particularly Jin and Jack–find themselves in a simulated reality of the San-Ti’s design are visually bland, for all that they seem to be reaching for something more grandiose and grand and awe-inspiring. Even though they clearly cost a lot of money, they lack the type of visual panache that would make them truly memorable.
What it lacks in the aesthetic department the series makes up for with the rest of the cast. The various younger members are all quite good, though there’s room to grow. Particular stand-outs are Bradley, Hong, and Sharp, the latter of whom portray characters who are locked in a bit of a romantic tragedy of their own that impacts the current crisis facing all of humanity. For me, though, the true standouts are Benedict Wong and Liam Cunningham, who are superb as a detective trying to make sense of a world changing around him and an intelligence officer determined to save humanity at any cost, even if that means sacrificing such pesky things as morality and ethics on the altar of expediency. Even when the the story fumbles–as it does often, given that this first season has cherrypicked various storylines from the trilogy and blended them all together sometimes without a great deal of rhyme or reason–the performances of the cast keep the series from spinning out altogether.
To be sure, this propulsive narrative and picking-and-choosing makes for some curious leaps in narrative logic and coherence, particularly in the latter half of the season. Once Wade bullies humanity into actually doing something to oppose the impending invasion, things advance at a remarkably fast clip, with some leaps in scientific advancement that strain credulity, particularly the San-Ti have made disrupting human science one of their core goals. The CGI is also a bit hit or miss in the later episodes, with a CGI chimp so fake-looking one can’t help but wonder where the show’s enormous budget really went.
While the TV adaptation might not be as intellectually audacious as its source material, there is still quite a lot here for viewers to chew on. Most pressing is the fundamental question facing those in the present: does humanity deserve to be saved, or does it deserve the oblivion that surely awaits it at the hands of the San-Ti? Just as importantly: does those in the present have an obligation to unborn generations? The beauty of an entity like the San-Ti is that they can stand in for anything from climate change to immigration, and while the series doesn’t explore these elements as completely as it might, I have high hopes that it will be able to do so should it get future seasons.
Ultimately, I found 3 Body Problem to be immensely satisfying. To me, some of the best sci-fi is that which causes us to be more than a little afraid, to face the possibility that the future isn’t guaranteed, that there are always forces greater than we could ever hope to be and against which we are ultimately powerless. It’s for this reason that, to me, one of the best scenes is also one of the earliest: the first encounter between Ye Wenjie and the San-Ti. As she sits at the console waiting for a response to the station’s numerous broadcasts, she unexpectedly gets the very thing, but it’s clear at once that this isn’t what she expected. “Do not answer,” her interlocutor types out. “Do not answer. Do not answer. I am a pacifist in this world. You are lucky that I am the first to receive your message. I am warning you: do not answer. If you respond, we will come. Your world will be conquered. Do not answer.” There’s something uniquely chilling about these words, with their repetition and with their absolute certainty that Earth and humanity will be swept away if the message's recipient is foolish enough to respond. Moreover, it suggests that there is an entire world out there, desperate to find a new home before their own is destroyed.
In the end, nothing is quite resolved, neither philosophically or narratively, but that’s to be expected. Do the San-Ti deserve a place of respite from their own world’s inevitable demise, even if it means displacing humanity? Does humanity really deserve to be saved, or should it be consigned to the dustbin of history? These questions are alluded to but never fully developed, but I for one am optimistic that they will be in future seasons.