Black Mirror: Hated in the Nation
by Charlie Brooker; dir. James Hawes (Netflix, 2016)
Feature-length police investigation with the character development to constitute a series pilot in its own right. Brooker considers the internet as a conductor of mass hate, then flips through a disquieting grey area to visit extreme, equally capricious consequence on individual users.
Black Mirror: Men Against Fire
by Charlie Brooker; dir. Jakob Verbruggen (Netflix, 2016)
While the character dynamics are nicely scripted, and well handled by the actors (particularly Malachi Kirby and Madeline Brewer), the naturalistic exploration of military indoctrination and target dehumanising is undermined by Brooker’s using Michael Kelly as a mouthpiece to articulate his inspirations.
Black Mirror: The Entire History of You
by Jesse Armstrong; dir. Brian Welsh (BBC, 2011)
A reductio ab adsurdum turned alarmingly not-too-farfetched projection of where technology might take us by facilitating total recall (and display) of memories. Jodie Whittaker is delightfully nuanced but Toby Kebbell’s character is so manifestly, irredeemably a dick, the relationship seems doomed anyway.
Black Mirror: White Bear
by Charlie Brooker; dir. Carl Tibbetts (BBC, 2013)
Standard, competently directed psychological thriller… until the scenario untwists to reveal an additional, more disturbing layer of thought experiment. Without being too overt, Brooker poses some searching questions as to the human capacity for cruelness and whether this can ever be justified.
Black Mirror: White Christmas
by Charlie Brooker; dir. Carl Tibbetts (BBC, 2014)
The grimmest of Christmas specials, leavened only by Jon Hamm’s used-car salesman vibe as three flashback stories twist into barbed wire. Oona Chaplin conveys the potential horror of relative time in a virtual environment, paving the way for Rafe Spall’s unravelling denouement.
Black Mirror: Plaything
by Charlie Brooker; dir. David Slade (Netflix, 2025)
Quality near-future SF. The premise (true artificial intelligence) is obliquely approached, the viewer first overawed by Peter Capaldi’s presence, drawn into rubbernecking by Lewis Gribben’s performance, and lulled by the adroitly executed 90s-style simulation game Thronglets. Quiet dark humour completes the backdrop.