Companion

Director: Drew Hancock
Starring: Sophie Thatcher, Jack Quaid, Lukas Gage, Megan Suri, Harvey Guillén, Rupert Friend, Jaboukie Young-White, Matthew J. McCarthy, Marc Menchaca
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Writer/director Drew Hancock's sci-fi thriller Companion works backwards, opening with its implications before doing an about face to show how we got there. Whether it's her blank, emotionless stare, the curious questions or that mechanically obsessive desire to please her partner and be accepted into his friend group, something's clearly off. But while all the signs this title companion is a robot are present from the start, we can just as easily ignore them, lulling ourselves into the idea we're watching the disintegration of a real relationship. And to a certain degree, that's true. 

Given a permission structure to indulge in his basest instincts, the film's antagonist sees this robot girlfriend as someone who will now finally understand him, tending to his every need and desire. But despite seeing the machine as authentic enough to satisfy all those selfish requirements, he won't hesitate reminding her what she actually is. It's an uneven power dynamic that carries very different implications for each, subversively satirizing the risks of artificial intelligence by taking aim at those who abuse the luxury.   

"Companion Robot" Iris (Sophie Thatcher) is nervously anticipating a weekend trip with boyfriend Josh (Jack Quaid) to a secluded lake house where she'll meet standoffish Kat (Megan Suri), partners Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage) and Kat's rich boyfriend Sergey (Rupert Friend). But shortly after the pair's arrival, a violent incident occurs as Iris seemingly malfunctions, forcing Josh to temporarily shut her down while also leaving him with an important decision to make. 

With Iris's emotions and feelings still controlled by the app on Josh's phone, he prepares to notify the robotics company about what happened. But when Iris flees, the group must now determine how to handle what's quickly become a major mess. Armed with the app, and in some small part now driving her own destiny, Iris fights for autonomy in a cat-and-mouse game she may not be able to survive. 

The film begins with a meet cute flashback in the produce aisle that under any normal circumstances would seem completely innocuous aside from the fact it never really happened. It's a fitting visual and thematic homage to that infamous supermarket scene in 1972's The Stepford Wives, replacing zombified, subservient spouses with literal robots as Hancock explores the misogyny leaking from every pore of this premise. Uploaded with memories that never existed, Iris's entire being is tailored to the whims of her buyer.    

The word "user" couldn't be more applicable for Josh, whose sense of  entitlement and male victimhood can freely roam unchecked thanks to the service tech company Empathix provides. And in treating Iris as his own personal blow-up doll, Josh doesn't only exert control in a physical sense, but emotionally, as her lack of agency finally provides him the pass he's always wanted and felt deserving of. 

While the angry incel is now a popular go-to genre trope, that doesn't make this subject or Quaid's performance ring any less true. Here, he continues to show his range with a drastic departure from his recent turn as a reluctant action hero in Novocaine. But the movie belongs to a compelling Thatcher, who has just the right look, delivery and blank, glazed over expressions to make Iris eerily believable as a bot opening her eyes to the conspiracy engulfing her. The plot carries echoes of Ex Machina and M3GAN, and though its ideas don't exactly fall by the wayside in the final act, this does eventually take the shape of a more traditional horror thriller, albeit one with a killer last scene. 

"It's the programming" is a mantra frequently repeated throughout, reminding us how these innovations rarely giving users the level of control they assume they're owed. In that sense, Companion feels like a timely excursion into The Twilight Zone, showing us how advanced technology is only as beneficial or harmful as society chooses. And it's a lesson these characters could have stood to learn before finding out the hard way. But that wouldn't be nearly as fun to watch.

Yellowjackets (Season 3)

Creators: Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson
Starring: Melanie Lynskey, Tawny Cypress, Christina Ricci, Simone Kessell, Sophie Nélisse, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Sophie Thatcher, Samantha Hanratty, Steven Krueger, Warren Kole, Courtney Eaton, Liv Hewson, Kevin Alves, Lauren Ambrose, Sarah Desjardins, Ella Purnell, Nia Sondaya, Alexa Barajas, Elijah Wood, Hilary Swank, Ashley Sutton, Nelson Franklin, Joel McHale
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For The First Three Seasons Of 'Yellowjackets' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

There comes a point in nearly every cult mystery series where all the groundwork's been laid and fans demand answers, maybe assuming its writers have run dry of ideas. Then comes the big twist, completely altering the trajectory of the story and causing viewers to rethink what came before. For Lost, this happened in its third season finale, "Through the Looking Glass," when an infamous line of dialogue reveals a possibility we never considered. 

A similar shock comes in Yellowjackets' third season episode, "Thanksgiving (Canada)" when the missing Wyskayok High School girls soccer team's disturbing wilderness celebration is interrupted by three unknown visitors as a seemingly promising surprise leads to violence and volatility. No longer the same people they were when that plane crashed, the issue is less getting home than how many still want to. 

Whether you believe the wilderness has a "plan" or it's all just a reflection of their own fractured psyches, they're no longer a team, friends or even really a collective tribe. We know they'll be rescued, but as Craig Wedren and Anna Waronker's grungy opening theme makes clear, there's still "No Return," for those who make it back. And from its start, the show's played fast and loose with certain details, as doubt and plausible deniability continue to surround these characters' fates. 

It's spring 1997 and after a cabin fire that left the team without shelter, newly anointed leader Natalie (Sophie Thatcher) and the rest of the Yellowjackets have built a new camp. This while accused arsonist Coach Ben (Steven Krueger) is still on the loose and a fuming Shauna (Sophie Nélisse) continues to emotionally unravel after losing her baby and best friend Jackie (Ella Purnell).

Forming a toxic bond with the clingy Melissa (Jenna Burgess) Shauna channels her rage toward rival Mari (Alexa Barajas) and Ben, who Natalie and Misty (Samantha Hanratty) suspect could be innocent. Meanwhile, Spiritual guru Lottie (Courtney Eaton) continues to hear voices and see visions, recruiting Travis (Kevin Alves) and Akilah (Nia Sondaya) to help decipher the wilderness's messages. But a shocking arrival causes battle lines to be drawn, forcing inseparable couple Taissa (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Van (Liv Hewson) to take sides.

In 2021, the group is grieving Natalie's (Juliette Lewis) accidental death at the hands of an inconsolable Misty (Christina Ricci), who starts hitting the bottle and rejects quirky boyfriend Walter's (Elijah Wood) attempts to help. But when an unhinged Shauna (Melanie Lynskey) suspects she's being anonymously stalked, the surviving Yellowjackets, her husband Jeff (Warren Kole) and daughter Callie (Sarah Desjardins) become increasingly concerned. Looking for answers from surprise houseguest Lottie (Simone Kessell), Callie intercepts a tape intended for her mom, the mysterious contents of which can ruin them all. And as Taissa (Tawny Cypress) and Van (Lauren Ambrose) struggle with the latter's deteriorating health, Shauna confronts a familiar face from the past.

Everything this season revolves around Shauna Shipman. While she was never the portrait of mental stability or even a well adjusted wife and parent, that was expected given what happened 25 years earlier. And if it was ever a time to view the cannibalism within the context of their dire circumstances, it's long passed. Something happened to them out there, and whether it's in their heads or related to the wilderness's metaphysical hold is irrelevant. All that matters is how far they've fallen.  

We've seen Shauna's need for control, but the loss of her baby last season has caused her to unleash a torrent of mental and physical abuse on her tribemates. Bloodthirsty and sadistic, she loves what she's become, mainly because it's the antithesis of what she was before. 

Respected, hated, feared and a leader, Shauna's somebody now, even if that evolution comes at the highest cost. And Sophie Nélisse is ferocious in this role, commanding the screen when plotting in silence with a nasty glare or barking orders at the top of her lungs. It's also an ideal compliment to Lynskey's performance in the later timeline, as both actresses subtly incorporating the other's more definable characteristics, even in their quietest scenes. 

Shauna's worst qualities take center stage when Ben's brought back to camp and put on trial for a crime everyone seems to know he didn't commit. That rigged system leads to the season's most intriguing monologue, as the exasperated, one legged assistant coach pleads for his life. With corrupted sidekick Melissa by her side, Shauna tips the scales of justice with the ultimate power play, even as Lottie believes he holds a greater purpose in somehow facilitating their path home. But the torment he suffers only has him wishing he went sooner, sparing him the knowledge that these girls he once coached are unrecognizable from the sociopaths they've become. 

Despite a pallor of tragedy hanging over the principal players, the 2021 timeline initially boasts a looser, more comedic tone that can partially be attributed to Christina Ricci's continued brilliance as the wacky, obsessive Misty. Her boyfriend and fellow citizen detective Walter is right in questioning why she's letting these "friends" use her, but the real fun comes when Misty gradually reaches that same conclusion, particularly when it comes to Shauna. Manufacturing problems for thrills and excitement's sake, even Callie and Jeff can't stand her anymore, recognizing the danger she's put them in. 

Last season's MVP Sarah Desjardins again impresses as Callie, who forms a strange, parasitic bond with Lottie to learn more about her mom's past. But it's Lottie who senses something stronger inside Callie, and whether that's her mental illness talking, what we've seen so far still seems to confirm it. 

Callie's definitely her mother's daughter, accompanied by all the baggage that lineage entails, dating back to what happened in those woods. The tape Shauna's threatened with holds the answers, even as Taissa's demonic side reemerges, taking desperate measures to buy a dying Van more time. Between her disturbing visions and continued obsession with sacrifice, she joins the rest in knowing she'll never feel or be "normal." 

Aside from how late in the game she arrives, what's most surprising about two-time Academy Award winner Hilary Swank's turn as Melissa are the ramifications of her face-to-face reunion with Shauna. Certain Melissa's behind the tape and Lottie's murder, Shauna's approach sure isn't subtle, making for the season's most suspenseful showdown, intrinsically tied to everything we've seen occur in the past timeline. Swank's only in two episodes, but she makes them count, causing us to constantly second guess Melissa's true motivations.

The episode "Croak" serves as a huge departure, using its first 20 minutes to focus entirely on frog scientists Edwin (Nelson Franklin) and Hannah (Ashley Sutton) and their survivalist guide Kodiak (Joel McHale). After exploring their purpose and personalities, we'll see how the strangers stumble upon the Yellowjackets' cannibalistic feast, where Lottie's impulsive actions set in motion their eventual imprisonment and deaths. They'll be seen less as lifelines than witnesses capable of spilling the girls' darkest misdeeds to the outside world, exposing them as a murderous cult. 

That development takes the story where it was foreshadowed to go since the pilot, when we wildly speculated on the identities of Pit Girl and Antler Queen. Both are revealed as this feuding tribe splits in two, with only a maniacal Shauna standing in the way of those ready to leave, terrified of relinquishing power and returning to her old life. But while we already know captive researcher Hannah's ultimate fate, she still holds the cards as a pivotal new figure, ingratiating herself into the tribe for a shot at survival, and seeing her daughter again. Instead, she'll pass along the damning evidence that haunts the Yellowjackets decades later.

The longstanding love-hate relationship between Natalie and Misty is given new context in the aptly titled finale, "Full Circle," adding poignancy and context to the tragedy that concluded last season. And if Juliette Lewis' departure left a hole, Ambrose's Van meets a similarly tragic end, culminating in another powerful dream sequence that features both Ambrose and Hewson sharing the screen.

All those allusions to Natalie being responsible for getting them home are starting to play out as we approach the home stretch, with Thatcher skillfully shouldering the weight left in Lewis' absence and solidifying herself as the show's lynchpin opposite Nélisse. And in a series known for its inspired 90's needle drops, they save their best for last when Natalie makes it to the top of that cliff with satellite phone in hand, frantically hoping to hear a voice on the other end. 

With rescue suddenly feeling closer than ever, it would be a massive disappointment if this series somehow wasn't granted the chance to complete a story that hasn't peaked. But even while confusion over this Showtime/Paramount streaming situation and the questionable availability of rapidly rising stars like Thatcher present logistical challenges for renewal, neither seem insurmountable.

What sets this apart from any current drama is  creators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson's ability to make the tough decisions, as proven by a death toll that reaches alarming new heights this season. For better or worse, and to fans' occasional frustration, no one's ever safe. But for all the obstacles facing the series as it winds down, it remains one of TV's most addictive shows, primed to cross the finish line as something more than just a giant "what if.."                                            

Heretic

Directors: Scott Beck and Bryan Woods
Starring: Hugh Grant, Sophie Thatcher, Chloe East, Topher Grace, Elle Young
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The first observation everyone will make about A24's chilling horror film Heretic is how it features Hugh Grant "playing against type" in a rare villainous role. But that's only partially true since the English actor inhabits this sadistic part exactly as we'd assume, playing it politely and eloquently, much like the characters he's built a career portraying in romantic comedies like Notting Hill and Love, Actually.

If anything's certain, it's that Grant's evil antagonist loves to hear himself talk, subjecting his visitors to an unsettling theological lecture about belief and spirituality. And in doing this he sets up an elaborate scenario that's constructed with more time, effort and motivation than most normal, functioning people are capable of. Of course, he's far from normal. The set-up is bold and ambitious enough to fear a letdown, but even when the film takes a more traditional horror path, it at least preserves the ideas that got it there.

Sister Barnes (Yellowjackets' Sophie Thatcher) and Sister Paxton (Chloe East) are two young Mormon missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ and Latter Day Saints who arrive at the house of Mr. Reed (Grant), a middle-aged man possibly looking to join their congregation. He invites them in, alleviating initial concerns by announcing his wife will be joining shortly with her blueberry pie.

As the young women inquire about his interest in the church, Reed responds with increasingly awkward and uncomfortable queries of his own, mostly aimed at discrediting their faith. With a wife that's still nowhere to be seen and his behavior growing more suspicious and confrontational, Barnes and Paxton attempt to exit a potentially dangerous situation, not knowing they're already pawns in Mr. Reed's lethal, sadistic game.

The script cleverly establishes the women as having two very different and distinct personalities, making it imperative for viewers to pay attention to casual banter that later becomes important in the context of Reed's trap. Unwavering in her loyalty to her religion, Barnes appears to be the stronger, more confident of the two, while the shy and naive Paxton is also devoted to a fault, though noticeably iffier about certain aspects of the church.

Pamphlets in hand, Barnes and Paxton arrive in the pouring rain, greeted by a seemingly warm, welcoming host on their last scheduled stop of the night. But writer/directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (who helmed 2019's grisly slasher Haunt) fill the film with small, visually important details, even down to how they drag their bikes up the hill. While the last thing both expect are Reed's attempts at dismantling organized religion with his verbal attacks and theories, that's only the beginning.  

Since he's played by Grant, all of it's done with a class and charm that continues up to and after imprisoning them in a small, innocuous cottage home containing enough timed locks and hidden passageways to double as Fort Knox. Dimly shot with a foreboding sense of dread by cinematographer Chung Chung-hoon, you can see and feel the women's escalating unease amidst a growing doubt they've taken all necessary precautions. It's only when Reed's lies become too much to ignore that concern turns to fear, and then, pure panic. 

The movie is all about belief, or more accurately, what people believe and why, with this atheist Jigsaw insisting the choice to leave is theirs. But there's a catch, or more accurately, a test. It begins with a speech broadly outlining his big philosophical theory involving The Hollies' 1974 hit "The Air That I Breathe" and various iterations of Monopoly. This is where the film peaks, still shrouded in mystery as Reed holds court in his pew-like study.

The script veers into gruesomely familiar territory from then on, but still manages to deepen the psychology of the two women in the process. What comes next is entertainingly preposterous, but the acting sells it, as does a crammed, claustrophobic setting that ups the tension. Still, the story's strongest when we're left in the dark, speculating about Reed's intentions.

Temporarily freed from the usual constraints, Grant's clearly having the time of his life tackling darker material few would ever associate with him. More reliant on suspense than gore, the first half centers around a constantly evolving game of human chess, with his performance hinting at a number of feasible outcomes, including the possibility Reed could let them go.  

Thatcher and East (both of whom actually had a Mormon upbringing) subvert expectations following their characters' memorable introductions when Barnes and Paxton's arcs diverge. While the film's first two acts emphasize the former's steely determination and resourcefulness, a sudden turn cause us to completely reevaluate East's Paxton, whose timidity isn't the sign of weakness we'd assume. There's also a Topher Grace cameo that appears to be leading somewhere huge, but instead reveals itself as window dressing to underscore the true helplessness of this predicament. 

Up until an ending where the villain describes his master plan in agonizing detail, there's an authenticity to Heretic that's only enhanced by the performances and creepy atmosphere. What we see in the final minutes may not be the entire truth and remains open for interpretation, but that's only fitting given its themes. An inspired approach makes watching this unfold thrilling fun, especially with Grant giving his best opposite a pair of up-and-coming actresses more than capable of matching him.

Yellowjackets (Season 1)

Creators: Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson
Starring: Melanie Lynskey, Tawny Cypress, Ella Purnell, Sophie Nélisse, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Sophie Thatcher, Samantha Hanratty, Steven Krueger, Warren Kole, Christina Ricci, Juliette Lewis, Courtney Eaton, Liv Hewson, Kevin Alves, Rekha Sharma, Jane Widdop, Sarah Desjardins, Rukiya Bernard, Aiden Stoxx, Peter Gadiot, Alex Wyndham
Original Airdate: 2021 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Lost meets Lord of the Flies in Showtime's Yellowjackets, which already managed to stand out as a major achievement in an increasingly crowded TV field. But what's most intriguing about this psychological thriller created by Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson is how it superficially appears to be taking us down a familiar road, before developing its premise in increasingly inventive ways that set it apart. At this point, the "mystery box" genre is basically an art form unto itself, often accompanied by demanding viewers' fears they'll only get burned in the end. And that's a real risk here, as questions and plots continue to accumulate, possibly increasing the odds of eventual frustration. Then again, maybe not. 

Considering how much is still likely to come, it's worth stopping to appreciate a series that feels as if its potential is limitless. And judging this season in a vacuum, freed from expectations of what's next, it's pretty astounding. While a truly accurate verdict can only come once the succeeding chapters play out, it's still impossible no to revel in its addictiveness. Whether or not this is the high water mark, when you get a ten episodes this meticulously constructed and suspenseful, the optimism feels warranted. 

Straddling two timelines, the show invites a rewatch for clues and details that could easily go unnoticed the first go-around. A chilling, occasionally gory survival tale and darkly comical coming-of-age story, it's most interested in how one event can leave lasting emotional trauma that shapes and scars its survivors well into adulthood. And in reframing the idea of what actually constitutes "surviving," it also provides some underappreciated 90's actresses the best roles of their careers, while being backed by a lineup of younger talents who match them at every turn. With a killer soundtrack and unmatched eye for period detail, it's a throwback that's also timely, digging deeply into current culture's true crime obsession.

It's 1996 when a plane carrying the Wiskayok, New Jersey high school girl's yellowjackets soccer team crashes in the Canadian wilderness en route to nationals in Seattle. They'll be stranded for 19 months, scouring for food and struggling to stay alive, holding out hope for a rescue that doesn't look imminent. Among the survivors are team captain and popular queen bee Jackie (Ella Purnell), her best friend Shauna (Sophie Nélisse), stubborn, super-competitive Taissa (Jasmin Savoy Brown), class burnout Natalie (Sophie Thatcher), wisecracking goalkeeper Van (Liv Hewson), schizophrenic Lottie (Courtney Eaton), devoutly religious Laura Lee (Jane Widdop) bullied, awkward equipment manager Misty (Samantha Hanratty) assistant coach Ben (Steven Krueger) and Travis (Kevin Alves) and younger brother Javi (Luciano Leroux), sons of Coach Martinez (Carlos Sanz), who perished in the crash. As winter approaches and the need for food becomes increasingly urgent, tensions bubble over, fragmenting the group. With the woods possibly holding some dark secrets of its own, it's heavily hinted they may soon be resorting to cannibalism to survive.

In present day, we meet the yellowjackets as middle-aged adults when they start receiving mysterious postcards marked with a familiar symbol, reuniting them to protect the secret of what really happened in the woods 25 years earlier. An impulsive Shauna (Melanie Lynskey) feels trapped in a sexless marriage with Jackie's ex-boyfriend Jeff (Warren Kole) when she's approached by suspicious reporter Jessica Roberts (Rekha Sharma), who's attempting to extract information about the crash. 

Taissa (Tawny Cypress) is running for state senator while trying to keep her family out of the public fray. Fresh out of rehab and struggling with her sobriety, Natalie (Juliette Lewis) attempts to locate recently missing ex-boyfriend Travis with geriatric nurse and self-proclaimed "citizen detective" Misty's (Christina Ricci) help. Clingy as ever and still desperately trying to be liked and accepted by the group, there's little she won't do to solve this mystery. With the crash's effects still impacting their lives, finally facing the truth might be the only way out. Unless a threatening blackmailer exposes it first.

Flashbacks and video footage are utilized in showing the public attention the accident has gotten, while we meet the team in the days leading up to the '96 crash. There's a heavy focus on Jackie, who's anointed team captain more for her influence over the others than soccer skills or leadership abilities. Her close friendship with sidekick Shauna seems partially built on a power dynamic that keeps Jackie  the center of attention as she runs around with Jeff (Jack DePew). But there's this subtle tension between the two girls you sense early on, as well as a gigantic secret that completely alters their relationship once the accident occurs, prompting Shauna step out of her friend's shadow. Physically and emotionally suffering in the wild, Jackie's social standing proves irrelevant when pushed this far outside her comfort zone.

With Taissa emerging as the group's leader, previously ostracized Mindy proves medically invaluable in the wilderness. And she knows it, the satisfaction of being needed causing her more manipulative, sociopathic tendencies to surface (like an obsession with Coach Ben). Samantha Hanratty is revelation in the role, which becomes even more apparent when you take Ricci's performance into account as the adult version.

Plagued by substance abuse and a rough upbringing, Natalie unexpectedly bonds with a very distant Travis. And off her medication, Lotti is having eerily prescient visions that are rapidly separating the believers from everyone else. That these sub-plots aren't entirely divorced from real teen problems in the 90's give them even more weight, as many of them were already bubbling under the surface before that fated flight took off.

Perceived pecking orders and hierarchies are flipped once everyone's thrown into a do-or-die scenario that exposes their strengths and weaknesses. It's not surprising things get ugly fast, but the series excels most in depicting the tiny, uncomfortable details that aren't talked about or don't initially come to mind when considering the challenges of being stranded in the woods with no help in sight. 

Credit the makeup and effects team for believably depicting some gruesome deaths and injuries that only intensify in number as this wears on. If episode 7 ("No Compass") contains the season's scariest and most shocking event, tensions reach a peak in the ninth ("Doomcoming"), when the group trips on hallucinogenic shrooms, causing all hell to break loose. What happens next ensures there's no turning back from the darkness. Some will embrace that, even as others don't.  

Ella Purnell's complicated and nuanced performance as outgoing, insecure "mean girl" Jackie creates somewhat of a dilemma since she's the lead and her character isn't seen in present day.  That we immediately assume the worst only increases the intrigue level, prompting speculation as to whether the writers would actually kill off such a major player this early. And if so, why? While there's a genuine sense no one is safe, many reasons work in explaining why we haven't met certain adult versions of the girls. At least as of yet. Everything's on the table, with the only guarantee being that the worst is certainly still ahead. 

All the older actresses are accurate ringers for their younger counterparts in looks, demeanors and personalities, so even as Jackie's future absence remains conspicuous, Shauna, Taissa, Natalie and Misty more than carry the load. Stuck in a state of arrested development, Shauna has a terrible relationship with her rebellious daughter Callie (Sarah Desjardins) and in therapy with husband Jeff when she embarks on an affair with the younger Adam (Peter Gadiot). A suspicious artist who happens to land in her life just as the yellowjackets are being blackmailed, he immediately sends up all sorts of red flags. 

Lynskey carries much of the present day story and it might go unnoticed just how consistently effective she is in playing a woman so used to burying her trauma that she can hardly recognize herself anymore. Based on recent life choices, guilt-ridden Shauna should be the the series' most unlikable character, but in Lynskey's capable hands she's actually sympathetic, and a times hilarious with a twisted, deadpan sense of humor. Part of the our attachment to her may stem from what Sophie Nélisse does as the teen version just seeing what she went through out there. It's just not the kind of emotional trauma that heals overnight, making it easier to see why she'd be prone to these disastrous decisions.  

What hasn't changed about adult Taissa is the stubbornness, throwing herself into the public eye with a senate run that not only draws unwanted attention to the group, but compromises the safety of wife Simone (Rukiya Bernard) and their troubled young son Sammy (Aiden Stoxx). What's going on with her is viscerally disturbing and on an entirely different level than the other survivors, suggesting a full-fledged dissociative disorder of some kind. Tawny Cypress does an exceptional job conveying the growing panic of someone whose private and public personas are simultaneously unraveling. The biggest danger Taissa's family faces just might be her, and she knows it.

Few would complain if the whole series were a middle-aged Misty and Natalie buddy comedy, as their onscreen chemistry is priceless, providing Ricci and Lewis the ideal outlet for their distinctive talents. Misty is who she is, and unapologetically so. If the rest were forever changed by the crash, you get the impression she's always been like this. Thirsting for acceptance, unable to read social cues and yet strangely comfortable in her own skin, there's hardly a moment of reflection or regret for this toxic caregiver, even when leveraging others to further her agenda. Everything is a means to an end, but Ricci brilliantly imbues this painfully self-aware character with such funny, likable quirks that you can't help but want to believe good intentions could be buried beneath even her most deluded behavior. 

Misty is the ideal foil to Nat, played by a manically unhinged Juliette Lewis at the top of her game. Wildly unpredictable and constantly on the verge of substance relapse, she doesn't suffer fools, which Misty appreciates. Nat actually does seem to need her help, but isn't above above using manipulation or blackmail either, representing a stark change from the brave, resourceful girl we see in the woods in '96. It's obvious Nat's had the roughest post-crash existence, greatly contrasting with how highly she's been spoken of by Shauna and Taissa. But that was the past and this is the present. What happened in between is still largely unknown, despite an abundance of clues and bread crumbs dropped throughout.

The show's already mastered the lost art of classic opening title sequences, with Craig Wedren and Anna Waronker's theme, "No Return" seemingly arriving via time machine from the mid-90's. It's accompanied by a grungy, VHS-style assortment of obscure shots sure to have fans frantically searching for Easter eggs. And the rest of its Gen-X infused soundtrack lives up to that musical promise, featuring an onslaught of cleverly placed, period specific needle drops from the likes of The Smashing Pumpkins, The Offspring, Jane's Addiction, Hole, Collective Soul, Liz Phair, The Cranberries and Belly. 

It's hardly a spoiler to reveal that the Eduardo Sánchez-directed finale ("Sic Transit Gloria Mundi') contains multiple surprises and tragedies, as the events of 1996 continue to inform our evolving perceptions of 2021 and its current characters. The tensions between young Jackie and Shauna will have to reach a head, the repercussions of which still clearly reverberate decades later. Adult Misty's desire for control reaches alarming levels as the fragility of Taissa's mental state proves even more precarious than initially suspected. And how about the postcards and blackmail? What about Adam? But maybe more importantly, who's the Antler Queen?  

A genre mash-up of sorts, this feels like the kind of series we've been waiting for, even if it's necessary to temper those expectations with the possibility it can just as easily fly off the rails. While there have already been teases of the supernatural, it's probably too risky a proposition to build the series around it. It's been at its best when exploring the interpersonal relationships and psychological trauma resulting from the crash's aftermath. There's likely to be a continued emphasis on the mystical horror/sci-fi elements, but that tends to work better in a less literal sense, instead reflecting the characters' fractured psyches. How to balance that is a decision they'll have to make before the show can truly know what it is.

If the writers play their cards right, they can expand not just this story, but the series' entire universe. The media circus and the public obsession with the crash seems like fertile ground for future episodes, as does the eventual rescue itself, assuming that's what happens. We could also get a glimpse into what the survivors' lives were like after their return, or even further before the flight. And we'll definitely be getting more older versions of the '96 characters, only further fueling speculation.

Supposedly, the creators have a five-year plan in place, and while it's easy to imagine there's enough story to sustain that, the details will be what matter most. In the meantime, it's safe to bet on many twists and blindsides, as the series continues to show all the signs of evolving into something really special. Whether what follows is capable of sustaining its creative ambition is another matter. Either way, what comes next is anyone's guess, so it's probably just best to buckle up and prepare for a wild ride.