Black Mirror (Season 7)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Rashida Jones, Chris O' Dowd, Tracee Ellis Ross, Siena Kelly, Rosy McEwen, Ben Bailey Smith, Issa Rae, Awkwafina, Emma Corrin, Harriet Walter, Peter Capaldi, Lewis Gribben, Will Poulter, Paul Giamatti, Patsy Ferran, Cristin Milioti, Jesse Plemons, Jimmi Simpson, Billy Magnussen
Original Airdate: 2025

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

If there's a recurring complaint about Charlie Brooker's British sci-fi anthology series Black Mirror, it's that its dark edge has gradually dulled since moving to Netflix in 2016 and becoming more "Americanized." And while there may be some truth to that, the bigger concern has been consistency, especially amid a revolving door of talent in front and behind the camera. With viewers often unsure when or if another season is coming, apathy can also set in, all while its critics continue to accuse Brooker of presenting repetitive variations on a similar theme. 

There's no denying that the dangers of modern technology provide its writers with endlessly fertile ground to draw from. But if the series always adheres to a comfortable formula (tech + humans = bad), veering too close or far from it has proved risky, especially when its most memorable entries tend to hit that sweet spot in between. This season continues the tradition, irritating those put off by the series' length and pacing while still appeasing fans enthralled with its Twilight Zone-inspired storytelling.

Because of its anthology format, none of the stories directly connect, but the show's been around long enough to have its own self contained universe, full of Easter eggs, callbacks, and tiny details tied to previous episodes. Now they've taken this further with a full blown sequel and spin-off that expand on what came before, while another cribs from the series' most beloved entry, suffering in comparison. The smartest entries always put the human element first, establishing its characters before their lives are upended by a twist that reveals who they really are. As usual, it's a trip worth taking, so long as you prepare yourself for a mixed bag of high and lows.

"Common People"  ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

When schoolteacher Amanda (Rashida Jones) falls into a coma with a brain tumor in director Aly Pankiw's depressing "Common People," her welder husband Mike (Chris O' Dowd) is approached by "Rivermind" representative Gaynor (Tracee Ellis Ross). If he signs on the dotted line for a monthly fee, the company can wirelessly transfer Amanda's lost brain function from its servers, giving her a second chance at life. But after she awakens and seemingly resumes normal activity, complications arise that require frequent subscription upgrades and more money to fix. And it's cash they just don't have, leading Mike to take desperate measures.

Though lacking surprises, this has its moments, mainly involving the procedure's wacky side effects and dire consequences related to Mike's perverse method for raising funds. A timely, damning indictment of the healthcare system, this bludgeons us with a message many already agree with, even if it doesn't offer a profound statement beyond watching the couple continuously suffer. The performances help pull it through, reminding us that the talented Jones should be doing more dramatic work while O' Dowd delivers as the anguished, supportive husband. You'll see the last scene coming from a mile away, but at least it's the right ending.

"Bête Noire" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

The more unpredictable "Bête Noire" focuses on ace chocolate company food scientist Maria (Siena Kelly), who's stunned to see her old high school classmate Verity (Rosy McEwan) at headquarters before being hired as the newest assistant. But when Maria starts getting blamed for mistakes around the office, she suspects the quirky, eccentric Verity is behind it. Only there's a lot more to their history than we know, including a shocking secret that has Maria fighting to keep her job and sanity.

Skillfully directed by Toby Haynes, this contains a promising premise shrouded in mystery while doubling as a character study that explores the gap between perception and reality. After teasing a clever parable about gaslighting or maybe even some kind of Mandela Effect, the story's tech angle kicks in when the rug's pulled out in an intriguing third act twist. Featuring a handful of clever tiny details and two wildly entertaining performances, it's probably the most underappreciated of the season, likely to hold up on repeated watches. It takes a big swing toward the end that isn't completely earned, but the toxic interpersonal relationship keeps viewers guessing throughout its tight, well constructed 49 minutes. 

 

"Hotel Reverie" ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Hotel Reverie features a promising premise that just doesn't reach its full potential despite the noblest intentions. When A-list star Brandy Friday (Issa Rae) unknowingly signs on to an AI-based remake of the classic film Hotel Reverie for ReDream productions, her consciousness gets uploaded into the black and white romantic drama. But after falling in love with a digital recreation of doomed actress Dorothy Chambers (Emma Corrin), sticking to the script becomes difficult, especially as an increasingly self aware Dorothy opens her eyes and heart to a world beyond the movie. Unfortunately, Brandy's desire for them to be together doesn't just threaten the film, but both their existences. 

Those classifying this as a poor man's "San Junipero" may actually be on to something beyond the obvious plot similarities of a romance defying constraints of time and space. It's almost as if there's a deliberate attempt by Brooker and director Haolu Wang an to recreate the magic of that Emmy winning episode, which is ironic for a script that revolves entirely around a remake. But Brooker's constant callbacks to that episode have actually done the series a disservice by setting other entries up for failure. This feels like one of them.

The real highlight is Emma Corrin's frighteningly believable turn as a golden age Hollywood star with personal demons who must face a sudden, shocking truth about herself. Issa Rae impresses less, though some of that can be attributed to playing a character already out of her element. They also lack chemistry, even if the bits within the film's AI universe do visually dazzle, providing a glimpse into what many hope won't be the future of movies. While marginally successful as a cautionary tale, sluggish pacing keeps the story at an arm's length. If nothing else, it's worth catching for Corrin's performance.

 

"Plaything" ★★★ (out of ★★★★)

An unofficial sequel to Black Mirror's 2018 interactive film Banderswitch, "Plaything" takes place in 2034, as manic, disheveled shoplifter Cameron Walker (Peter Capaldi) is linked by police to the murder of an unidentified victim decades ago. While interrogated, he opens up about the crime, which took place when the former PC Zone writer was invited by genius programmer Colin Ritman (Will Poulter) to review Tuckersoft's latest simulation game, "Thronglets." Ahead of its time, the game features no conflict, instead requiring the player to raise digital, sentient creatures. But when an obsessive Cameron becomes overly devoted to caring for them, tragedy strikes, causing him to go off the deep end.

Director David Slade keeps it simple, to the point that seeing Banderswitch is hardly a prerequisite to understanding or appreciating what unfolds. There's also a refreshingly direct throughline about human cruelty that may temporarily silence detractors who feel the series has lost its bite, with this episode coming closest to capturing the pessimistic world view of its early installments. And as good as Capaldi is in his unhinged turn, Lewis Gribbon equals him as younger Cameron, showing us how this awkward, supercharged bundle of nerves gets sucked into the addictive world of Colin's groundbreaking creation.  But it's really the juxtaposition of these innocent Minion-like creatures alongside an eventual eruption of violence that gives this episode its resonance. The implications are larger and wider reaching than the story's scale would suggest, leaving us with more to consider after the credits roll.

 

"Eulogy" ★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Deeply human and personal, "Eulogy" transfixes from start to finish, as lonely, middle-aged Phillip (Paul Giamatti) receives news from a company called "Eulogy" that his ex-girlfriend Carol (Hazel Monaghan) recently died. Despite having not seen her in decades, he's asked to contribute to the memorial via a kit that enables users to virtually step into their old photos. 

While taken through this process by The Guide (Patsy Ferran), an irritated, resistant Phillip realizes that he defaced all pictures of Carol after their break-up, adversely affecting memory retrieval. But as he walks through these photos, the pain and joy he experienced comes flooding back, forcing him to confront the actual truth about their relationship.

The concept of nostalgia therapy has been explored in Black Mirror a few times before, but never to this extent, and rarely as powerfully. Carrying thematic echoes of Serling's classic Twilight Zone episode "Walking Distance," there's no funny business here, as the episode's technological hook organically intertwines with its narrative to enhance this extremely relatable story of missed opportunity and regret. A touching treatise on the lies people tell themselves to make sense of their past choices, the episode isn't just Phillip's personal therapy session, but a virtual time capsule of sorts. 

Visually, directors Chris Barrett and Luke Taylor make the most of their photographic locations with Phillip physically traveling from one memory to the next, aided by an increasingly opinionated guide who extracts new truths from him at each stop. What results is something akin to a puzzle, with small clues gradually pushing the protagonist to drop his guard and acknowledge he wasn't exactly an innocent victim. It also shows how memories can positively and negatively co-exist in our minds, frequently clouding facts and obscuring objectivity. 

Giamatti hits all these heartbreaking beats with just the right mix of despair and bitterness, invoking genuine empathy for a cranky, irascible man who gets a front row seat to his biggest mistake. And as the dryly bemused guide with a secret, Farran makes for an ideal onscreen counterpart. The big twist is a slam dunk not just because it makes sense, but stands in stark contrast to the gloom and doom that's defined the series, this time using the technology to bring our protagonist closer to a more authentic version of himself and his past.

 

"USS Callister: Into Infinity" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

Exciting and briskly paced, "USS Callister: Into Infinity" picks up after Callister Inc. employee Nanette (Cristin Milioti) discovered that deceased company CTO Robert Daly (Jesse Plemons) was harvesting her and other co-workers' DNA to create digital clones for his game. Now with sleazy CEO James Walton (Jimmi Simpson) being questioned by a reporter about Daly's technology, he and Nanette enter "Infinity" to help. But while Nanette's game avatar struggles to ensure her crew's survival by stealing space credits, a dark secret at the heart of Daly's creation puts them in further peril.  

The biggest surprise isn't how Brooker and returning director Toby Haynes seamlessly continue where Season 4's highly acclaimed, Star Trek-inspired space adventure left off, but that every original participant returns 7 years later. Of all the episodes, this is easily the most fun, immediately alleviating all concerns about remembering the previous chapter's details with a brief synopsis. But even those who missed the original should still find themselves immersed without confusion, investing in these quirky characters as the action shifts between the real world and this multiplayer universe.  

Milioti and Simpson entertainingly carry this in dual roles as the already blurry line separating game from reality is further obliterated by Daly, whose technological reach extends from beyond the grave. And while Plemons' screen time is less, he adds such a different dimension to his toxic, antisocial programmer it may as well be another part entirely. And in some ways it is, with Nanette and her crew finding that out the hard way, despite her best efforts to obtain a different result. Comedic and suspenseful, it's hour and a half flies by, raising the stakes while reaping the benefits of not being as heavy a watch as the other episodes. It's a worthy follow-up that not only builds on the original, but frequently surpasses it.                                 

Black Mirror (Season 6)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Annie Murphy, Salma Hayek, Michael Cera, Myha’la Herrold, Samuel Blenkin, Daniel Portman, Monica Dolan, John Hannah, Aaron Paul, Josh Hartnett, Kate Mara, Auden Thornton, Rory Culkin, Zazie Beetz, Clara Rugaard, Danny Ramirez, Anjana Vasan, Paapa Essiedu
Original Airdate: 2023

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Once counted among Netflix's earliest successes, Charlie Brooker's technology themed British anthology series Black Mirror hasn't aired since 2019's underwhelming 3-episode fifth season. And that's assuming you'd consider such a small amount of content a season at all. This followed 2018's interactive, "choose your own adventure" feature Bandersnatch, which garnered a mixed response, leaving viewers wondering if the series could recapture its former glory, which peaked with the third season's Emmy-winning "San Junipero."

While that episode (and to a lesser extent, season four's "USS Callister") has justifiably been cited as a series high, let's not kid ourselves into thinking consistency has been its key strength, with length and pacing issues leading to some real stinkers along the way. But now after a production rights battle had even its creator expressing uncertainty about further seasons and what incarnation those could take, it's finally back.

The good news is that this sixth season sees the series retaining much of what originally worked, while still managing to go in wildly clever new directions. Even if five episodes still doesn't feel like enough, there is a cohesiveness to the storytelling that's been lacking for a long time. Discussions and arguments will undoubtedly break out over the subjective rankings of these episodes, but at least that debate has rarely felt this purposeful. 

Less acceptable is the complaint this "isn't Black Mirror" because it supposedly skews too far from its original intentions. In actuality, this change is a relief, as the show often tripped up by shoehorning outrageous plots into its tech-themed premise rather than organically incorporating them. This new batch is given a little more room the breathe, leaning into the sci-fi, horror and dystopian elements that first invoked all those Rod Serling comparisons. And you wonder whether we'd even be hearing those criticisms if word hadn't leaked that Brooker was planning a "Red Mirror" horror anthology that was intended to showcase the season's final entry. 

These five episodes could be viewed as two halves, with a meditative psychological drama sandwiched in the middle. The season starts in slightly familiar territory before moving to darker places that deviate unexpectedly from the show's tangentially shared universe. One of the installments feels like a miscalculation, a couple linger in the mind longer than others, but it all still fits together really well, offering up a little something for everyone.

In the opener, "Joan is Awful," Annie Murphy gives a tour de force comedic turn as tech CEO Joan, who  discovers the very recent events of her life are unfolding on screen for the world to see in a new "Streamberry" series starring Salma Hayek (played by Salma Hayek). This is easily the lightest, most playful episode of the bunch, not to mention the funniest. And nearly all of it can be attributed to Murphy's wacky turn as Joan, a woman overwhelmed by awkwardly firing employees at the board's will before coming home to safe, but boring boyfriend Krish (Avi Nash). 

Between Joan's trips to her therapist and a temptation to cheat with returning ex Mac (Rob Delaney), the revelation that all of this has been adapted into a series causes humiliating embarrassment on a grand scale. Luckily, she has a plan to get the show cancelled that may or may not involve Hayek and a really disgusting public act. What works best is how the story peels back a few more layers than you'd think, capped it all off with a fun final twist that plants it firmly alongside other similarly themed Black Mirror episodes covering technology's trappings. 

Netflix also really skewers itself here, showing a surprising amount of self-awareness, with Brooker's script humorously taking aim at their "terms and conditions" and greedy business model. In tackling the issue of AI and CGI replacing actors and writers, it's one of the timelier episodes, capped off by a memorably uproarious Michael Cera cameo.   

The second episode, "Loch Henry," finds film student couple Davis (Samuel Blenkin) and Pia (Myha’la Herrold) traveling to his quaint Scottish hometown to visit his widowed mother Janet (Monica Dolan) and shoot footage for their documentary on a local conservationist. But during a stop at the bar owned by Davis's childhood friend, Stuart (Daniel Portman), a far more sordid subject piques Pia's interest

Daniel tells Pia the story of local murderer Iain Adair, who was responsible for the torture and deaths of numerous tourists in the '90's, resulting in the shooting of Davis's late policeman father Kenneth (Gregor Firth) and the town's decades-long decline. Despite Davis's obvious discomfort, Pia convinces him to focus their film on this, doing the research and even visiting the scene for additional footage. But since crime documentaries are a dime a dozen, they'll need a hook for it to stand out from the pack, And boy do they ever get one. 

When this starts you're unsure what the goal is, at least until Pia convinces Davis to shift course and an incredible musical montage featuring Melanie's "People in the Front Row" signifies they're off to the races. Blenkin and Herrold build on their natural chemistry, while a subtle Dolan convinces as a mother willingly participating to keep her husband's memory alive. 

Of all the episodes, this contains the biggest twist. And for every viewer saying they saw it coming will be others totally taken aback. What really matters is whether it lands, as this unquestionably does, with Brooker turning his retro VHS camcorder on Netflix's taste for true crime exploitation and the viewers' willingness to join in for entertainment's sake. 

"Beyond The Sea," takes place in an alternate 1969, with astronauts Cliff (Aaron Paul) and David (Josh Hartnett) aboard a ship on a six-year space mission. In between medical physicals and repairs, their consciousnesses are transferred to artificial replicas of themselves on Earth, enabling both to spend time with their respective families.. 

While the emotionally distant Cliff lives quietly off the grid in an idyllic rural farm house with wife Lana (Kate Mara) and their son, David settles in California, making him a more recognizable celebrity. But when tragedy strikes and replicant David and his family are targeted by a violent, Manson-like hippie cult, Lana suggests Cliff lend distraught, depressed David his replica so he can unwind back at their home. As David's trips become more frequent, he becomes unhealthily attached to a life that isn't his. 

Going on cast and premise alone, this seemed a likely frontrunner for the season's best going in. And even while that designation is arguable, few could claim it disappoints. Running a robust 80 minutes, it's the longest episode, but a meditative slow burn that perfectly suits the material's melancholic tone. There's a mesmerizing, contemplative quality to how it all unfolds, thanks largely to John Crowley's steady direction and the impressive production design that goes into creating both the shuttle and Earth-bound 60's settings. It's 2001: A Space Odyssey meets Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, as its story wrestles with some heady sci-fi themes that are only bolstered by three terrific central performances.

Paul and Hartnett are devastating in their roles, with the former pulling off the tricky job of playing both Cliff and David, going home first as Cliff before sporadically returning as David occupying Cliff's body. It's sort of a Face/Off-like scenario with Paul never leaving doubt as to which character he's inhabiting, completely adjusting his mannerisms, speech and physicality to match each. And Mara doesn't have it easy either, having to react differently to both while struggling with Lana's guilt in finding David more attentive and engaged than her actual husband. 

After seemingly years away, Hartnett returns in a major role and is also apparently now five times the actor he was, capturing the loneliness, anger and jealousy of a man who's lost everything. Believing Cliff doesn't appreciate what he has, David walks up to the edge of madness before crossing that line into the unthinkable, perhaps damning both of them to share in their own separate hell together. You may generally know where Brooker's headed from the start, but this Twilight Zone-inspired morality play will benefit from repeated viewings, satisfying the most cynical series purists with its brutal ending.

In "Mazey Day," increasingly disillusioned celebrity photographer Bo (Zazie Beetz) gets a tip that missing actress Mazey Day (Clara Rugaard) may be hiding out nearby following a hit-and-run overseas. Despite recently quitting the paparazzi game, she knows photos of the starlet could command a lot of cash. Looking to dig herself out of a financial hole, she follows some leads to locate Mazey, with disastrous consequences. 

The season's shortest episode is also its most underwhelming by a large margin, testing the theory that less is necessarily more with Black Mirror. From a technical standpoint, it's fine, but despite the next entry demonstrating how the show can successfully dip into unchartered territory, there just isn't a lot of purpose behind this, regardless of genre.   

Brooker setting the action in 2006 is smart since the very idea of a celebrity "disappearing" in the current age of social media is close to impossible, especially following a vehicular assault. The paparazzi was also at their most venomous during this era so that helps in setting the stage for what could have been a promising look at media obsession. Unfortunately, this takes a lesser route that isn't poorly executed, but just very run-of-the-mill. 

After making that hard narrative pivot, the intrigue comes to a sudden halt, leaving us with an entertaining diversion in search of something larger to say. Beetz makes an effective lead but can't overcome the deflation of that sudden detour, which leaves a potentially better story on the table in favor of shocks and gore.

A beautifully bleak opening set to Art Garfunkel's "Bright Eyes," begins the final episode, "Demon 79," which takes place in a small English town of Tipley, circa 1979. It follows meek, mild mannered department store associate Nida (Anjana Vasan) into work where she puts up with a prejudiced co-worker (Katherine Rose Morley) and boss (Nick Holder). Despite fleeting daydreams of enacting violent revenge, she remains composed and polite, quietly suffering as further anti-immigrant rhetoric is spewed outside the door by campaigning conservative politician Michael Smart (David Shields). 

When Nida takes home a mysterious wooden talisman from the store's basement, she inadvertently  unleashes an aspiring demon named Gaap (Paapa Essiedu), who appears in the human form of Boney M. band member Bobby Farrell. Told she has to make three human sacrifices before May Day or the world will end, she's suddenly faced with some monumental choices as the clock winds down. While definitely not a murderer, the skeptical Nida will need Gaap's help to learn quickly, assuming the fate of the world does really lay in her hands.

This joins "Beyond The Sea" as the best directed episodes of the season, as Vasan's heartbreaking turn proves to be the real draw here, with the actress nothing short of extraordinary in depicting the emotional stages this shy woman goes through, even before this supernatural entity appears. While its premise draws heavy parallels to the recent Knock at the Cabin, a better thematic comparison might be the classic Twilight Zone episode, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street," at least in terms of its examination of "otherness" and xenophobia. 

Gaap believes Nida's been chosen because she's a good person, but also an easily corruptible one. And you see that aspect peeking through every corner of Vasan's performance, which has her character torn between doing what's dutifully expected and finally taking a stand. The comedic banter between Vasan and Essiedu keeps everything rolling, but her fear and anger is palpable when it starts seeping through to the surface.

It's one thing to talk about preemptively doing the world a favor by killing someone like Hitler, but not as easy to actually go through with when you're the person swinging that hammer. While the possibility of Nida being mentally ill hangs over this story like a specter, Brooker and co-writer Bisha K. Ali realize what such a decision would mean, ultimately staying true to their original conceit without undermining it. Divisive as this episode is, it's ironic that an homage to 70's British horror devoid of modern technology further illuminates how challenging perceptions has always been the series' biggest strength.