I have not read The Eternaut, a comic by Héctor Germán Oesterheld and Francisco Solano López. In fact, I didn't know anything about both the comic book and the writers until I went to the Wikipedia page after finishing the new Netflix series, The Eternaut (El Eternauta in Spanish), created by Bruno Stagnaro. Based on whatever I have read so far, the comic seems like one of those unfilmable materials - like Frank Herbert's Dune - that proves to be a nightmare for filmmakers when they bring the pages to the cinematic medium. Lucrecia Martel was once hired to work on The Eternaut adaptation. She was later dropped from the project because her script "strayed too far from the source material." Has Stagnaro managed to stay close to the source material? Only someone who has read the comic book can answer this question. But if the answer is yes, then perhaps, like Martel, Stagnaro should have tried to distance himself from the source material. It's not that The Eternaut is bad. It's just mind-numbingly fatuous. The show takes itself so seriously that you feel as if someone will punish you for cracking a joke or for bursting into laughter. Then again, it's almost impossible to have fun with this series because everything is imbued with a thick layer of self-consciousness. Stagnaro wants you to approach The Eternaut with incense candles. He demands your reverence; he gets your indifference instead.
Wikipedia tells me that Stagnaro had highlighted the difficulty of adapting a story with "absolutely ephemeral" character arcs and "little long-term construction." What's actually ephemeral about the Netflix series is the faces of the characters. It's hard to remember who is who as soon as your eyes shift from one person to another. For instance, I initially found myself confused between Alfredo and Juan. Moreover, it took me a few minutes to realize that Ana wasn't Juan's spouse. But this could be my personal problem since I am not too familiar with any of the actors here. It took me a while to register their faces, and yet, even after getting a grip on their identities, I couldn't connect with them on an emotional level. Stagnaro seems like one of those guys who think "art" means something that shouldn't be "enjoyed." He probably respects the comic for its brainy, geeky, scientific coating. Alfredo (César Troncoso) delivers all the science stuff with a nerdy veneer. He's an electrical engineer who takes out his compass and declares that the North Pole has become the South Pole and vice versa. Then there is Juan (Ricardo Darín), who often experiences strange visions, which, after a while, suggest that he can either see the future or he is a time traveler. There is nothing interesting to write about other characters. Clara (Mora Fisz), Juan and Elena's (Carla Peterson) daughter starts behaving strangely after a point, but the source of her weirdness is rarely explored in this first season. I am, of course, talking about the aliens - or is it just one alien? (A hand with many fingers makes an appearance towards the end).
At first, the characters are threatened by snow. When the snow disappears, some people - who clearly look "brainwashed" - attack them. There are also large bugs that apparently not only eat humans but also consume their own kind - provided the creature is already dead. Finally, we see that hand which manipulates its own army of Homo sapiens. How exactly does it recruit people? When Juan sees the bugs and the humans together, he asks how they communicate with each other. Good question! Where's the answer, though? Crucial information is hidden from us to create an atmosphere of uncertainty, of mystery, of suspense. The Eternaut, however, is dull mainly because these very elements are missing from the show. Something like Dark was successful in hooking us with such an approach because it was steeped in a heavy, apprehensive atmosphere. The Eternaut, on the other hand, is plain and literal-minded. One can almost see Stagnaro sweating profusely so that he can deliver expositions like a mental chore. In his hands, dialogue sounds as esoteric as rocket science. You eventually throw your hands in the air, and I might have stopped watching the show if I were not professionally obligated.
The only aspect of the show that gives you a peek into Stagnaro's excitement of adapting this material is the well-rendered visual effects. The bugs, the fiery balls falling on the earth, the blue light emanating from a stadium, the snowy dystopian environment, the abandoned buildings, the apocalyptic images - it's all utterly convincing and beautiful to behold. You can see where the money has been thrown. The Eternaut looks wonderful, and this visual beauty sets it a bit apart from other chintzy Netflix productions. Nonetheless, the series ultimately feels as tedious as those other chintzy Netflix productions. And anyway, this "visual beauty" shouldn't be mistaken as "visual imagination." The images merely convey what's written in the script without the intensity of a feverish vision. Juan might or might not have seen everything before. But thanks to scenes like the one where a crying baby threatens to upend a situation, you feel as if you have seen this story in a better film or a better show with better execution.
Final Score- [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times