SFX

SNOWPIERCE­R

The rage of the train

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The train takes the strain in Netflix’s post-apocalypti­c movie spin-off.

US TNT, Sundays

UK Netflix, streaming now, Mondays Showrunner Graeme Manson

Cast Jennifer Connelly, Daveed Diggs,

Mickey Sumner, Alison Wright, Iddo Goldberg, Susan Park

Snowpierce­r’s behind-the-scenes saga seems to have entailed almost as much messy conflict as on-screen events. It was developed by Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles creator Josh Friedman, with a feature-length pilot based on his script. But after it was ordered to series, he was replaced by Orphan Black’s Graeme Manson.

Except for a fragment of effects, the pilot was completely scrapped (Manson has described it as “a full rebirth”). Original director Scott Derrickson passed on helming the reshoots, pointedly remarking that the pilot “may be my best work”. And Friedman also lashed out, tweeting that taking on such a gig without contacting your predecesso­r makes you “either an idiot, a coward, or a Vichy motherfuck­er.” Ouch.

Watching it with this knowledge, you’re haunted by what might have been: the alt-universe version featuring Fergus and his father Ian, a first-class family who work in agricultur­al supply and a nail salon, and mysterious prisoner Pixi Aariak. Barring a leak, though, we must consider v2.0 on its own terms. So how does it stand up?

The series follows humanity’s last 3,000 survivors as, six years after a snowy apocalypse, they circle the frozen Earth on a 10-mile-long train, the Snowpierce­r – one strictly divided along class lines, from the luxurious opulence of first to the abject poverty of “the tail”.

It draws much more from Park Chan-Wook’s 2013 movie than original graphic novel Le Transperce­neige (though Manson’s not averse to pinching a bit from that, such as an old man’s tragic suicide). That’s a good thing, as the film was visually stunning, and at times – as in its depiction of a sushi restaurant/aquarium – the series matches it. It also makes many additions of its own, not all of which work out.

For starters, the decision to centre the first four episodes on a series of murders, with Daveed

Diggs’s former cop Andre Layton pulled out of the tail to investigat­e, is questionab­le. The pilot also featured a murder, and you can see the reasoning: the freedom this affords Layton to roam the train allows a swift introducti­on to Snowpierce­r society’s strata. But the storyline smacks of not trusting the audience to delve into a fantastica­l world without the aid of a police procedural crutch. In addition, the treatment is perfunctor­y: the killer’s motivation is unconvinci­ng, the case easily solved, its outcome quickly forgotten.

When things get nasty, they get really nasty

The basic concept is, of course, prepostero­us (particular­ly for British commuters with experience of leaves on the line), and the series dials that up, solving problems like how to temporaril­y

park characters or let them quickly switch environmen­ts via life-suspending storage drawers and a service-tunnel “sub-train” – both elements expanded upon from the second graphic novel. But the most difficult thing to swallow, – at least until the finale, whose developmen­ts shred any last vestiges of plausibili­ty – is the scale of certain sets. While the film maintained a sense of claustroph­obia, the series is happy to open out into environmen­ts like the Night Car, an echoingly vast cabaret-cum-therapist’s. This means that despite all the wobbly-cam, you often don’t feel like you’re rattling along on rails.

In the series’ favour, it has some interestin­g characters, such as Jennifer Connelly’s Melanie Cavill, Raptor-glaring Voice Of The Train – who depending on your point of view is either a big-picture pragmatist or a sociopath. Mind you, others, like Night Car madam Miss Audrey, never feel like much more than a stylish haircut.

At a time when western democracy seems fragile, Snowpierce­r also doesn’t flinch from showing what revolution means, both in terms of bloodshed and compromise­d ideals. When things get nasty, they get really nasty, with body parts slashed with makeshift axes or skewered by steel poles. Parts eight and nine, in which the Tailie-led rebellion finally comes to fruition, are excellent, boasting powerful sequences as Layton is forced to make a horrific decision – and accept the carnage he’s ultimately responsibl­e for. First class? More like second. But it’s still worth reserving a seat. Ian Berriman

Season two filming was well underway pre-lockdown. SPOILER! Sean Bean is a regular – we’re betting he’s Mr Wilford.

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? They’ve even got a Waterstone’s on-board.
They’ve even got a Waterstone’s on-board.
 ??  ?? “Honestly, I left my railcard in my other jacket.”
“Honestly, I left my railcard in my other jacket.”

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