Black Mirror Season 7 Review: Heartfelt Drama That Misses The Show's Sci-Fi Edge

"Do we even need 'Black Mirror' anymore?" is what I kept wondering while watching the latest six-episode season of Netflix's long-running anthology series. That question also came to mind during the previous two seasons, which have had episodes mixed in quality compared to the widespread praise that surrounded Charlie Brooker's thought-provoking and tech-heavy stories of its first few years. It's been well over a decade since "Black Mirror" kicked off, and the gap between current and future technology has become significantly smaller. Brooker's ideas in the early 2010s struck us as wild, big-scaled, and forward-thinking more so than they do today. That's both a compliment and an inevitable criticism of where the show stands now.

Inherently — partly due to the rapid technological evolution in the past 14 years — the creator's narratives grew closer and closer to reality (and some "Black Mirror" episodes even freakishly predicted technology's future). The stories in Season 7 feel smaller in scope because they could turn real virtually any day in some shape or form; a blessing and a curse for a TV show that prides itself on coming up with plausible yet still far-to-reach speculative science fiction.

Brooker remains a prolific and highly competent writer, but one still wonders, watching these new episodes, if they should have that "Black Mirror" logo instead of existing outside this universe as standalone movies. Don't get me wrong, they're sharply written and acted — emotionally more satisfying than the last two seasons combined — but they also steer further away from the core concept of "Black Mirror," and its main message. Essentially, they're all very human stories with a slight futuristic kick.

"Black Mirror" Season 7 begins with the story of Mike (Chris O'Dowd) and Amanda (Rashida Jones), a sweet and financially-troubled couple who face a sudden tragedy. Out of nowhere, Amanda becomes brain-dead on account of an undiagnosed tumor. That's when the biotech company Rivermind swoops in to offer a "cure" via an organic tissue planted in her head that will most definitely save her — for a life-long monthly subscription of $300, that is. There are other caveats, too: she needs to stay in a certain area, otherwise the chip deactivates; and she'll also be sleeping two to three hours more than usual. And that's just the first few limitations in a long line that Rivermind is about to roll out to force the couple to upgrade to a higher-priced subscription to have a "normal" life.

This is essentially a dig on any subscription-based service (including Netflix itself) and how big corporations leverage themselves and exploit us by taking away initially standard features and turning them into expensive privileges. It's bleak, capitalistic, and depressing as hell, setting quite a gloomy and fitting tone for the rest of the season.

Episode 2 follows in line with a ruthless — if average — and disillusioned revenge story, to make way for the most ambitious, compelling, and fascinating idea of the season unfolding in Episode 3's "Hotel Reverie." Its plot utilizes the daydream of being dropped into a classic old movie to play the protagonist while getting acquainted with a simulated version of the rest of the cast — and the potential to disrupt the original script and fall in love in another dimension that slowly turns more real than we'd imagine. This is the kind of episode destined to be adored (like "San Junipero") despite its logical shortcomings because it's full of heart and romance and vulnerability, thanks to its primary stars Issa Rae and Emma Corrin.

The fourth episode, "Plaything," attempts to draw on the more obscure and eerie side of the series, focusing on a weird and alarmingly strange murder suspect (Peter Capaldi wearing a ridiculous wig) obsessed with a '90s video game that birthed artificial lifeforms. Not nearly as alluring or provocative as it wants to be, "Plaything" is more of a miss that fails to evoke the disturbing milieu and somber future it aims to depict. It falls flat and is forgettable by the end in spite of its solid cast.

The season's fifth episode, "Eulogy," is the absolute outlier of the season. Involving scarce technology, it rather functions as a melancholy, endearing, and heart-wrenching romantic drama designed for Paul Giamatti's neurotic yet irresistible charisma. It's practically a one-man show about bittersweet memories, regrets, and irrevocable life decisions through the remembrance of an old love affair that will leave your soul in shatters before the credits roll. "Eulogy" is unabashedly human and heartfelt — resembling little of what "Black Mirror" is typically known for — with the feel of an indie film aimed at a possibly different audience than it might find as part of this anthology. It's a precious gem that would've deserved to be a full feature shown in cinemas.

Episode 6, "USS Callister: Into Infinity," is a direct sequel to Season 4's beloved opener, which somewhat scrutinizes the entire structure "Black Mirror" is built on — telling complete, independent stories in a single episode. It's clearly meant to be a "big revival," designed to draw in long-time viewers with a splash of nostalgia, and it's essentially nothing but pure fan service. Totally unnecessary but highly entertaining, though with little substance to add to the original idea. Naturally, the main actors reprise their roles, and considering how much they evolved professionally since 2017, they effortlessly deliver the goods. It's a different question whether the actual script lives up to their tremendous effort.

Overall, "Black Mirror" Season 7 is a surprisingly good time (if fleeting), but it inevitably brings us back to the initial query: Is this format worth sustaining if the new stories largely divert from the central concept and core elements that used to define the series? Personally, I welcome the more dramatic and humanistic approach, but at the same time, I miss the grand, exciting, shooting-for-the-moon ideas that Charlie Brooker used to come up with. This isn't necessarily the "Black Mirror" we've come to expect over the years, but if it's the only way to make and see these stories put on a screen, then so be it. However, I wouldn't blame hardcore, long-time fans for not being as lenient and appreciative of this slight thematical shift as I am. 

"Black Mirror" Season 7 is available to stream on Netflix.