tv

The TV show that will make you frightened for the human race.

Black Mirror has all the trademarks of a show set in the future.

It features invasive technology; the breakdown in human communication; and the subsequent consequences.

But this is not a show about what might happen ‘one day’. It’s already here.

In fact the entire concept of the show relies on contemporary unease: paranoias regarding our public profile, and social media-based stresses. Producer Charlie Brooker summarises it perfectly: “each episode has a different cast, a different setting, even a different reality. But they’re all about the way we live now – and the way we might be living in 10 minutes’ time if we’re clumsy.”

Every aspect of the show is crawling into our everyday life. Right. Now.

And I can’t quite wrap my head around that.

via Netflix.

Black Mirror may be fiction but its overall premise is terrifyingly, confrontingly real...

I had a lil' panic attack last week when The Independent reported on a policy being proposed by China's Communist Party. Because the policy emulates an especially dystopian episode of Black Mirror. The report read that "China wants to give all of its citizens a score – and their rating could affect every area of their lives". You know how you rate a restaurant on TripAdvisor if you've had a good or bad experience (usually a bad one)? Well think that...but with people. And it gets more alarming:

"Those who fall short will be denied basic freedoms like loans or travel."

What... How ... I can't.

I just can't. Because an entire episode of Black Mirror FOCUSES SOLELY ON THIS: a world in which our every interaction is given a rating out of five.

Nosedive is the first episode of Season three, which dropped on Netflix on October 22.

ADVERTISEMENT

Listen to Luca Lavigne explain this Black Mirror episode to Rosie Waterland and Laura Brodnik on The Binge. 

So, the concept for this episode is that every human being has a rating out of five stars.

Like an Uber driver.

Each person in the world, regardless of age or gender, rates every single interaction they have with someone else.

Every interaction. Order a takeaway coffee? Rate the guy who took your order. Say g'day to a colleague you pass in the street? Rate her. Was she smiling? Happy to see you? Well-dressed? You get the idea...

The episode opens on a bright-faced, rosy-cheeked woman as she passes people on the street, gets herself a coffee and goes about her morning. Everyone she comes across (and subsequently rates, with her smartphone) is wide-eyed and grinning. Just like she is.

You should also watch it because JON HAMM. via Netflix.

It doesn't take long to realise that all the smiling faces she comes across are completely contrived.

False. Forced. Everyone knows they're getting rated on EVERY aspect of EVERY interaction. And that rating affects absolutely EVERYTHING in their lives. It's an introvert's worst nightmare.

On the surface? The system is golden. There's no anger. No impatience. No racism or violence or prejudice. Similar to Uber drivers who offer bottled water and mints to cultivate a higher customer rating, the characters in 'Nosedive' hesitantly mould their interactions around a judgmental audience - both online and in person.

But there's no truth. No sincerity...

ADVERTISEMENT
"There's no truth. No sincerity." via Netflix.

When highly rated people ('primary influencers') rate you, their rating has a greater impact than if a lower person were to rate you.

Our 4.2-rated, smiley protagonist can't afford the new house she wants to buy. However, a discount is available for those rated 4.7 stars or above. She hunts down an old friend - now a 'primary influencer' with 4.7 stars to her name - and organises to speak at her upcoming wedding. Our protagonist - Lacie (played by Bryce Dallas-Howard) - does so with the sole intention of harvesting positive 'ratings' from her old friend and her clan of 'primary influencers'.

via Netflix.

She rehearses a speech... and comes across as a genuine psychopath: fake emotions, fake tears, and fake childhood memories. The lot. A completely contrived speech only intended to 'rate' well.

Obviously, it all goes horribly wrong. En route to the wedding, she deals with humanity at its absolute worst - airport check-in agents, hire car companies, the works - and struggles to keep her cool. The rosy smile vanishes. The real emotions shoot to the surface. And the domino effect takes hold: her rating - quite literally - 'nosedives'.

She's flung into the path of a female truck driver - a low-rated human profanity, who doesn't give a toss how many stars she has to her name. A smiling beacon of authenticity in an otherwise false world.

And this is the question Black Mirror raises with us: when it comes to social media, how far is too far?

Lacie, making sure she doesn't drop that smile. Even for a second. Image via Netflix.
ADVERTISEMENT

Do we passively allow it to become the centre of our lives, simply because technology is no longer a barrier? Or do we hang on to just a little bit of our raw humanity? If I'm honest, the former looks to have the upper hand. Because most of our interactions are, now, through our phone screens - our own 'black mirrors'.

And that's where my anxiety from this show stems: I find myself favouring a Facebook message over a face-to-face meet up. I walk a hypocritical line where I feel unfairly judged on social media, and try to put my best selfie forward - while simultaneously judging everyone else. Leaving the house last week my phone phone told me there was traffic and suggested an alternate route to work - despite the fact I've told it neither where I work, nor what route I take.

The 'techno-paranoia' age isn't coming. It's already here.