'San Junipero', in which Black Mirror tells a lesbian love story, is arguably the least Black Mirror episode in the series' entire run. And that's absolutely not a criticism, as this is a sweet and touching tale that shows that Charlie Brooker and the format at large are capable of telling stories that don't necessarily rely on scathing analogy, devious twists, or bleak and shocking scenarios.
Black Mirror is, at heart, a science fiction anthology series, and science fiction should be a means for telling all sorts of stories, not just action / horror oriented ones.
This particular tale opens in 1987, in which a lively recreation of the '80s serves as the backdrop for an unlikely romance between Gugu Mbatha-Raw's spirited Kelly and Mackenzie Davis' wallflower Yorkie.
At the local disco, the pair cross paths, and there's an instant connection. At first it seems to be merely friendly, but it soon becomes apparent that there's a more sexual frisson between them, even as Yorkie is too shy and confused to know what to do with such feelings.
A week later, the pair turn up once again at the same club, and act upon their urges, going home together.
When Yorkie again goes looking for Kelly the following Saturday night, only to find her absent, she goes looking for her new lover. And that's when things start to get a little more Black Mirror. Yorkie doesn't look for Kelly in another bar, but rather the same bar, in different time periods.
Yorkie visits the bar in 1980, 1996 and 2002, with the music, film posters and arcade games that make up the set changing accordingly. Even the 'One Week Later' title-card changes its font style to suit the era at hand.
The episode, directed by Owen Harris, doesn't go to any lengths to explain this at first, rather presenting it as matter of fact and forcing the audience to simply accept things. The fact that we only ever join the story on Saturday nights, the weighted references to it being "almost midnight", and mentions of incongruous notions like "pain sliders" are similarly left hanging.
While it's deliberately obfuscating, the strength of Mbatha-Raw and Davis' performances are the hook that keeps us on board, and Harris is wise not to leave it too long before revealing what's really going on – namely that a new technology has created the virtual world of San Junipero as a form of therapy for the aged and infirm; a form of nostalgia therapy that's supposedly helpful for treating Alzheimer's.
Due to the nature of this false reality, time there is rationed – just five hours a week on Saturdays, hence the significance of the midnight cut-off point, after which Kelly and Yorkie must return to their own realities, and their own bodies. Both young and beautiful in San Junipero, in real life they are old; Kelly is dying of cancer, and Yorkie is a vegetative paraplegic.
These revelations are not depicted as twists; merely as developments. That's refreshing for a show that can sometimes feel wearying to watch, given its often gruelling nature. What follows is a continuation of their love story, in which the pair continue to connect, both in real life, and in the world of San Junipero.
The issue of 'passing over' – essentially dying in real life and transferring your consciousness to the escapist dream town permanently – seems like a no-brainer. Who wouldn't want to spend eternity in their prime, decade-hopping at parties with the person they love? It's to Charlie Brooker's credit that his script manages to make an entirely plausible counterpoint to this, which acts as the primary cause of conflict between the two young (old) lovers.
While Black Mirror has conditioned us over the years to expect the worst, or some killer twist, 'San Junipero' is content to progress with its own story, at its own pace. It keeps you guessing as to whether the pair will ultimately end up together or not – will Kelly decide to 'pass over' and spend her after-life with Yorkie? – but at the end of the day, it's a science fiction story that's beautiful rather than biting.
The pair are essentially striving to spend eternity together in a man-made heaven. The closing track may be unsubtle, but Belinda Carlisle's 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' is absolutely perfect.
'San Junipero' is – despite the false-reality malarkey – a rather simple love story. It's sweet, and affecting, boasting fantastic performances from Mbatha-Raw and Davis, and a wonderfully tender score by Clint Mansell.
Possibly the least flashy episode of the season, it's nonetheless a wholly effective hour of television. More White Mirror than Black, 'San Junipero' proves that this series may have more strings to its bow than many people might have believed.
