By Birk Buchen
Maniac is as theme cluttered as it is ambitious, taking place in a futuristic world filled with noticeable amounts of depression, mental illness, and free enterprise. The dystopian limited series finds Owen (Jonah Hill), struggling with schizophrenia, his family, and being unemployed, as he interacts with Annie (Emma Stone), who is equally dysfunctional handling her own battle over drug use and the death of her sister. Both Owen and Annie quickly find themselves on their own journey to participating in an experimental drug trial, but soon the two are fused together.
The testing involves a series of pharmaceutically induced dreams that each of the chosen participants must take part in. Owen and Annie, along with number of other candidates, sleep, eat, and interact with one another far underground a large corporate building. They take a series of progressing pills- A, B, then C- while each participant is connected to a large supercomputer. Each new pill signifying a clear tonal shift in the visions of the two problematic contestants.
Complications begin to present themselves within the facility while scientists cannot explain what is going on. Eventually, a glitch appears and Owen and Annie join each other’s visions through this drug trip. While all of this does provide ample room for Stone and Hill to explore their dramatic talents, there are also comedic tidbits that litter the 10 episode mini series.
However, the show’s transitory nature ignites a high level of nuance. The audience will often find themselves asking if program creator, Cary Fukunaga, or other producers really even know what they’re doing. It felt as if the show was only granted one season by the network, hence leading to the jam packed and poorly executed essence of the show. Obviously, this was a test for Netflix to see if shows like this would work.
Yes, the idea was there, but brevity seemed to ruin all chances of an engaged viewer. Most people I have spoken to said that they could not even make it past the first two episodes. An overabundance of characterization takes away from the plot strand as we soon realize that we know more about the estranged Dr. James K. Mantleray (Justin Theroux) than the creators’ true purpose.
Although each episode provides a high level of visual appeal, it seems unfocused from what the creators truly wanted to express. It lacks versatility, often requiring an anchor to its abundance of incidents. Maniac seems to be playing with fire at the moment, the show seems to lose attention for its strongest aspect.
We continue to find ourselves swerving in and out of the mental illness lane as we attempt to push for a conclusive ending. Eager to know if Owen is actually the crazy one, the audience is more than often distracted by the claustrophobic number of societal messages. It truly begs the question if Netflix needs a Psychology 101 class on fasting forward. I surely hope that my depiction of the limited series is not as loose as the intent of creating a show that was this misdirected.
