A talky production isn't necessarily doomed to be a failure. In the hands of a talented director, words can create suspense, tension, and excitement. Shows like The Diplomat and The Lincoln Lawyer have dialogues that sound like music to the ears. They are not just sharply written but also delivered with razor-sharp precision by a group of excellent actors. Zero Day isn't devoid of a good cast. It stars Robert De Niro, Lizzy Caplan, Jesse Plemons, Joan Allen, Connie Britton, Matthew Modine, and Angela Bassett. These thespians are more than capable of giving fresh life to a rotting corpse. But you know what they say about directors being the ship's captain. A bad driver would undoubtedly end up sinking everyone. Lesli Linka Glatter crashes her vehicle into a giant iceberg, though one could also lay some blame on the writers (Noah Oppenheim, Eric Newman, Roberto Patino, Eli Attie, and Dee Johnson). The material that has been cooked tastes bland, but it's shocking how such fine actors fail to redeem themselves for even a second. For this, you can only point your fingers towards Linka Glatter.
The director doesn't seem to have established a connection with her actors. Both parties appear to exist on different wavelengths. For instance, Linka Glatter's impersonal lens thwarts Plemons's efforts to give his lines a semblance of weight and emotions. She films the action conventionally by pointing the camera toward the actors, and they regurgitate their lines through solemn faces. Nothing indicates that the people on the screen have processed their thoughts before delivering them in the form of speeches. No one seems to have been born in the world depicted by Zero Day - they are all placed in it like mannequins for display. The dialogues have no inflection, no rhythm, and no momentum. They do the work of signboards, pointing the way to the next plot-related development. What's worse is that everyone gives you the impression that they are simply reading their lines from a Teleprompter. No wonder you think all the fine actors on the screen might just as well be robots who look like humans.
Zero Day displays no interest in exploring its characters through their words. After making us aware of an affair that took place between George Mullen (De Niro) and Valerie Whitesell (Britton) in the past, the series refuses to probe into the matter. Was this attraction merely sexual? What was George and Sheila's (Allen) relationship like when the affair happened? Zero Day suggests that Sheila knows about the liaison, yet she asks Valerie to help George in the present. Why? Because she wants her husband to succeed in the professional arena. Isn't she afraid George and Valerie might end up rekindling their amorous passion? Zero Day shows no such indication. In fact, it keeps things between the old lovers purely professional. The series wastes the opportunity to develop a push-pull dynamic with the reunion. The only drama it's interested in is the one that pushes the story forward. This is why we get intimate moments between Plemons's Roger and Caplan's Alexandra. He hides a secret that can destroy his ongoing romance, so a character takes advantage of this knowledge by converting Roger into a puppet to, among other things, dig up dirt on George.
However, nothing dramatic happens when Roger's secret comes out in the open. We see Roger's confession but not its effect on Alexandra. A few minutes later, someone dies, and we again feel nothing, which is definitely a big problem because this man is apparently like George's son. Zero Day begins with presenting George as a writer with a deadline, but by the end of the first episode, both the writer part of him and the deadline are tossed out of the window. The episode ends with a fascinating possibility that Zero Day could turn out to be something along the lines of Florian Zeller's The Father. The people who made this show, unfortunately, don't prove themselves to be very competent or sophisticated (brace yourself for cheap emotional shots like the smiling face of a dead son and a cute father-daughter video before a train accident). George's memory gaps are merely treated as showy decorations - they are used for "cool tricks," like rearranging a room by making certain objects appear/disappear.
George emanates a strong sense of self-righteousness. This former president always puts America first. He loves American citizens so much that he doesn't allow police officers to throw tear gas at protestors baying for his blood and demanding his resignation from leading the investigation behind a cyberattack that killed thousands of people. But there comes a time when George starts leaning towards fascism. He arrests a journalist (Dan Stevens) who criticizes him constantly on his show. Here was Zero Day's chance to introduce us to a complex character - one who crosses the line of morality due to his blind faith in his decisions. Alas, this series is allergic to intelligence. All of George's intuition turns out to be correct. Apart from the flat filmmaking, another aspect of the show that invites criticism is that it's about a former male president who gets power and solves America's problems while the female president (Bassett) silently watches everything like a spectator. Linka Glatter and others, while making Zero Day, couldn't have possibly predicted what the recent elections would bring to the US, but their show nonetheless triggers a Trumpian interpretation: A former president who's not right in the head is more efficient than a sane female president. America, in other words, has chosen the right leader. Zero Day, either intentionally or unintentionally, sucks up to the MAGA enthusiasts and their commander. Is this why it looks like an early contender for the dullest show of the year? Let George do this investigation.
Final Score- [1/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times