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canyonwalkerWhat kind of a show do you call Chernobyl? The 2019 HBO miniseries isn't a documentary. It's not as... dry... nor does a narrator recite facts while a camera pans over photographs. Its Wikipedia page (external link) calls it a historical tragedy. That non-category includes too wide a variety to be meaningful. Chernobyl is not a costume drama. It's about something that really happened and it sticks relatively close to the facts. I think the best term is docudrama.
In the podcast made about episode 1 showrunner Craig Mazin talks about why he took the docu- part of that term seriously. He sees accuracy as a matter of respect for the people who died. And he noted that, stylistically, the first episode also matches another genre. Horror.
He's right. The first episode, 1:23:45, is very much like a horror film. There's a monster killing people. Worse, it's an invisible monster. But like in a horror movie, we know it's there even when (most of) the characters in the story don't. Worse than that, the monster kills its victims slowly. They absorb deadly doses without realizing it. They become dead men walking. Again, we know that before they do. We watch in suspense as people go around corners and open doors— and we're like, "Don't go there! The monster's there! It'll you!" But as is the trope in horror flicks, they do anyway. And the monster tags them for death.
The later episodes are different. The "monster" is still present but its dangers are better understood. But even a week later episode 1 haunts me. As it's quiet during the day at home, or quiet late at night, little creaks and groans around the house startle me. I know they're ordinary things like the thermostat switching the heater on, or pipes expanding with the heat. But every sound is creepy. My animal hind-brain asks, "What if something's going to blow up? What if the air we breathe is poisoned?"
In many ways knowing as much as I do makes it better. But in some ways knowing as much makes it worse.
Keep reading: Please Remain Calm
In the podcast made about episode 1 showrunner Craig Mazin talks about why he took the docu- part of that term seriously. He sees accuracy as a matter of respect for the people who died. And he noted that, stylistically, the first episode also matches another genre. Horror.
He's right. The first episode, 1:23:45, is very much like a horror film. There's a monster killing people. Worse, it's an invisible monster. But like in a horror movie, we know it's there even when (most of) the characters in the story don't. Worse than that, the monster kills its victims slowly. They absorb deadly doses without realizing it. They become dead men walking. Again, we know that before they do. We watch in suspense as people go around corners and open doors— and we're like, "Don't go there! The monster's there! It'll you!" But as is the trope in horror flicks, they do anyway. And the monster tags them for death.
The later episodes are different. The "monster" is still present but its dangers are better understood. But even a week later episode 1 haunts me. As it's quiet during the day at home, or quiet late at night, little creaks and groans around the house startle me. I know they're ordinary things like the thermostat switching the heater on, or pipes expanding with the heat. But every sound is creepy. My animal hind-brain asks, "What if something's going to blow up? What if the air we breathe is poisoned?"
In many ways knowing as much as I do makes it better. But in some ways knowing as much makes it worse.
Keep reading: Please Remain Calm
