TV Rec: Altered Carbon
As a kid I had a security blanket, as an adult I have cyberpunk. For those of you who aren't as basic a bitch as I am - cyberpunk is like if an American film noir fucked a Japanese neon sign and gave birth to Hong Kong in the future. Its easiest definition is "high tech, low life", it was hands-down the best thing about the 80s, and Blade Runner may be its crowning achievement, at least in Hollywood. So this particular future seems to be making a come-back, with Blade Runner The Sequel (which, ugh, skip that and just watch Arrival by the same director again), the Ghost In the Shell remake (not as bad as advertised, really), and that shaky Amazon anthology show Electric Dreams. The whole thing is kind of heartbreaking, because, well, it's so redundant. Of all nostalgic throwbacks in the last decade, this may in fact be the most redundant, and that's saying something. I mean - we're basically living in cyberpunk reality already, considering how it's an age of abject inequality where we're all gadget-enhanced barely-humans navigating fractured techno-communities in a shiny, messy, diverse cyberspace riddled with bots, AI, hackers and spies, controlled by unimaginably powerful corporations. Like any prophecy that comes true, cyberpunk just has nothing left to say, which is why all these new shows and movies don't work. But if you're like me and can't get enough of all the neon-y neon urban future neon, then I'm here to tell you that Netflix's most recent sci-fi series Altered Carbon is the finest of all the Blade Runner rip-offs out there. It's not Good TV, it's Good Bad TV, which is the best TV. It's fun, pretty pulp, much like main man Joel Kinnaman, who looks like an older Kyle Reese who's had to watch Sarah Connor die and now gives off an excellent "fratty, sensitive soldierboy hardened by tragedy"-vibe, emphasis on yum yum, yum yum yum. It made me feel a little better in an especially shitty week, so if you have Netflix and are home with the flu, take it out for a spin. Happy weekend!