Anyone who has read Eleven Station by Emily St. John Mandel, whose French version was published in 2016 by Alto, could not have been worried that this post-apocalyptic novel would be the subject of a film adaptation, as it had been announced at the time. A thick story told in a non-linear fashion, featuring a large number of characters, opting for several genres of narration, mixing survival and the arts “because surviving is not enough” (yes, a loan from Star Trek): to make all this hold in two hours was mission impossible. Unless you lose a lot.
Relief, then, when it was announced that the crowned title of the Prize booksellers in Quebec (category Novel outside Quebec) would rather be suitable in series. Ten one hour episodes, what a joy! Then, again, worry. Eleven Station indeed follows the consequences of an influenza pandemic which, in two weeks, eradicates 99% of the world population. After two years of COVID, with nerves on edge and morale below zero, do we need this? Viewing the first three episodes requires a positive response. In any case, for those who appreciate demanding television where no detail appears without bouncing back later, where the questions asked find illuminating answers … but which raise other questions. And so on.
For all that, Eleven Station gives the impression that it will be consumed better in bursts, especially for those who have not read the novel or are not fond of anticipation stories. To the latter, a piece of advice: you have to persevere. Developed for television by Patrick Somerville (Maniac, Tea Leftovers) and directed by Hiro Murai (Atlanta, Childish Gambino’s clips), the series adopts the structure of the novel, which goes from one era to another and which, in its first sections, focuses on a time and one or more character (s) before look to another time and other people. But the “paintings” thus presented soon fit together and the result is spectacularly intelligent.
Sobriety and decency
The first episode puts the situation dramatically, but without showing any voyeurism. There is here a welcome decency these days. For example, the direct impact of the pandemic can be seen in seconds spent in an overwhelmed emergency room or when the camera rises above the deserted city, frozen in snow, its streets cluttered with abandoned cars. As for its long-term effects (most of the story takes place 20 years after the fall of civilization), we can guess at the outset: wild pigs feed in ruins … that we realize they are those of a theater when time jumps two decades back and we find ourselves in a performance of King lear.
Bam! Death and art come on the scene, hand in hand. Essential in the wake of things, they are among others conveyed by Arthur, a well-known actor (Gael García Bernal, efficient and troubled); Jeevan, a bright and sensitive spectator (Himesh Patel, excellent); and Kirsten (Matilda Lawler, a revelation), an eight-year-old actress who can be found 20 years later as Mackenzie Davis (The Turning). The second episode focuses on the latter and on the Traveling Symphony, a traveling troupe made up of actors and musicians who offer Shakespeare to the survivors. Therein lies the beating heart Eleven Station. A scene devoted to a representation of the group is a touching proof of this.
The other embodiment of art is through a science fiction comic entitled… Eleven Station. An element that some of the readers of the novel had found irritating. The same may apply for the spectators of the series when faced with this piece, which annoys in its sometimes flawed way of appearing and making people drop out of the story. But it is also – and above all – a very important common thread.
To draw on the thread in question, Miranda (Danielle Deadwyler, charismatic), an expert in logistics, but also author of the famous comic book. The third episode is dedicated to him and it allows, with the help of several details previously submitted, to make the necessary bridges for the cohesion of all that will follow and where will intervene this essential character of the postapocalyptic stories: the charismatic Prophet (who takes here the features of Daniel Zovatto).
All this – the experiences of children who have lived through the end of the world and of those who have never known the one before; the harsh demands of survival; sometimes beautiful and upright human nature, often brutal and egotistical – can seem heavy. It is. Corn Eleven Station also contains its share of lightness in its notes of humor; depth and originality in his discourse on art; beauty in his images; and importance in its purpose.