‘Pluribus’: Rhea Seehorn Seethes With Loneliness in Vince Gilligan’s Brilliantly Enigmatic Sci-Fi Series

Tony Sokol

It’s lonely, being right. In “Pluribus,” Rhea Seehorn’s Carol Sturka is a speculative history romance writer who hates her own books, and feels the same about the people who read them, or most anyone else for that matter. So, when that person decides humanity is something worth fighting to save, it is a powerful thing. Following the media-changing runs of “Breaking Bad” and “Better Call Saul,” Vince Gilligan is not merely returning to the science fiction he wrote and produced for “The X-Files,” his new Apple TV series expands beyond the genre. It is a speculative comedy, and a brilliant one.

“Pluribus” is very much a drama. The consequences, repercussions, and symbolism etched into every cause-and-effect are globally devastating. But they are done by very nice people who really want to help. And that’s the scary part, because they are not lying. At one point in the spoiler-free-zone known as the plot, a go-between named Zosia (Karolina Wydra) assures Carol no harm will come from the newcomers, but cannot offer such assurances about the few of Carol’s own kind left available. The danger is not the problem. This is frightening, but offbeat and, after a beat, quite chilling.

While not exactly satire, “Pluribus” follows all the rules of great satiric science fiction writing. It is as ridiculous, and hilarious, as “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” and as subversive as “Dr. Strangelove.” The themes are heavy, but the one-liners also shine. The scenarios contain incredible physical humor, and as the series progresses, it becomes a high stakes screwball comedy with tragic turns.

Of course, “Pluribus” doesn’t begin like this. Each episode opens with a digital clock counter. It ticks the days, hours, minutes, and seconds before and after the global transformation. Research scientists are excited to discover a sonic pattern from light years away that repeats, and they revel in the process of breaking down the code. In a parallel arc, Carol is disillusioned with her “Winds of Wycaro” novel series, and wants to move into more traditional writing. Her manager, and secret life partner, Helen (Miriam Shor), just wants to rest after a long book signing tour. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking.

The opening episode is a steadily moving apocalypse, with subtle ties to conspiratorial conjecture. To Carol and Helen, the change happens after multiple jets spray chem trails over Albuquerque, NM. Things spiral quickly. The breakdown from their point of view is riveting. Each abandoned car adds suspense. The dual arcs come together as separate characters with completely different viewpoints. Carol is a last-person-on-earth style character, who is reluctantly representing freedom and humanity in all its forms. The rest of the world would do anything in their power to make Carol, and the other non-transformed people on the planet, happy. Some really take to this, grab the best-looking travel companions and vehicles. Others prefer the status quo. Carol, and one other mystery man, stand alone. All alone. Except for everyone in the world, who are always up their ass.

Carol does not like the scrutiny one bit, and Seehorn absolutely seethes in her rejection of all things with the stench of conformity clinging to them. Seehorn gives a tour de force performance because she has to. The fate of humanity lies in the hands of her character, and Carol doesn’t like the job or the people she’s doing it for. The only people she likes less are these others, who are just so nice you can throttle them with bad feelings. It’s a delicate balance, and Seeburn skips down that live wire, without any sign of glee.

After “the Joining,” all but a dozen people on earth are happy, content, and absolutely giving and empathetic. They own the moral and ethical high ground, which is infuriating. There are subtle changes in how Zosia interacts with the unchanged. Initially, Carol doesn’t even want to know her name. She is irritated that Zosia was chosen for her resemblance to Raban, the main character of Carol’s “Wycaro” series, and the writer calls her “Pirate Lady.” But whatever name she is called, Zosia and everyone she represents truly wish to make life “wonderful” for everyone on earth. Carol doesn’t buy it, even though she knows it is true.

“Pluribus” is a joy to watch. It is frustrating, sad, hopeful, thrilling, and terrifying to consider, but enjoyable and suspenseful to view as it plays out. There are no bad guys, except the annoyed woman who thinks universal happiness is not conducive to the human spirit, and will mess up your day for it.

“Pluribus” begins streaming Nov. 7 with new episodes premiering Fridays on Apple TV+.