Based on Emily St. John Mandel’s 2014 novel of the same name, Station Eleven imagines a world in which the swine flu paved the way for the destruction of civilization. The 10-episode miniseries was already in the works before Covid-19 struck last year, but it’s hard not to see similarities between our modern dystopia and the disease-ridden world depicted in the lean, character-focused pilot, which was directed by Atlanta’s Hiro Murai.
Filled with both dread and surprisingly wry humor, Station Eleven never shies away from the dangers of a world ravaged by an airborne disease. Yet, to the show’s considerable credit, it’s not interested in wallowing in darkness. Unlike other recent dystopian shows, Station Eleven homes in on humanity’s heart and humility and recognizes how easy it is to crumble in despair in the face of unthinkable tragedy. Though the series isn’t above portraying such hopelessness, it accepts this reality without letting it become its defining perspective.
Respecting the sprawl of the source material, the series bounces between time and place with relative ease. Focused intently on Kirsten (Mackenzie Davis), an actor in a touring company that performs a ragtag, down-and-dirty variation of Shakespeare to the fledging survivors of the swine flu pandemic, Station Eleven often wrestles with the very nature of entertainment in a time of natural and economic devastation. It seems to ask: How can we forget about the troubles that surround us while we’re living in desperation?
Kirsten’s narrative mirrors the show’s, as it grapples with the very nature of escaping and embracing the times that we’re living in. It’s a difficult balance, and one that the character (and the series) don’t always traverse gently, but the deliberate delicacy with which it explores how art can heal and distract us is often straightforward without feeling flippant or careless. Compared to many other works of the Covid era, Station Eleven feels more assured in how it approaches the very idea of being alive in such a physically, emotionally, and spiritually depleting time, but it doesn’t offer easy answers for how to do so.
Aided by a thoughtful performance from Matilda Lawler, who eerily matches Davis’s mannerisms as a younger Kirsten, and an agreeably flustered Himesh Patel as Jeevan, Kirsten’s unsuspecting mentor figure, Station Eleven strikes a balance between realism and whimsy. It’s impossible to predict whether audiences will be willing to indulge a series that so clearly echoes the world we’re currently living in, but on its own merits, Station Eleven proves to be a bittersweet and winsome series that deftly juggles its myriad characters and time periods.
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