Black Mirror ‘Arkangel’ review – Big parent is… | Little White Lies

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Black Mir­ror Arkan­gel’ review – Big par­ent is watch­ing you

06 Dec 2017

Words by Roxanne Sancto

A person sitting by a window, looking out pensively. The image shows a side profile view of the individual against a backdrop of curtains and a window frame.
A person sitting by a window, looking out pensively. The image shows a side profile view of the individual against a backdrop of curtains and a window frame.
This episode from Sea­son 4 offers a qui­et­ly chill­ing near-future vision of an over-pro­tec­tive society.

Direct­ed by Jodie Fos­ter and script­ed by Char­lie Brook­er, Arkan­gel’ does not rely on clever Black Mir­ror-style twists. Instead it finds its shock val­ue through lin­ear sto­ry­telling and the show’s biggest moti­va­tor: fear. In the episode’s open­ing scene, we are intro­duced to a lone moth­er ner­vous­ly expect­ing her first child by ways of a cae­sare­an sec­tion. A kind nurse gen­tly talks her through the pro­ce­dure, even offers her hand to squeeze. It is the only sense of warmth we get in an oth­er­wise cold and ster­ile envi­ron­ment, the absence of a sup­port­ive hus­band or fam­i­ly mem­ber speak­ing volumes.

The moth­er-to-be, Marie (Rose­marie DeWitt), is anx­ious, yearn­ing to meet the child she has car­ried inside the safe­ty of her womb for nine months. When her baby daugh­ter final­ly enters the world, she does so silent­ly, caus­ing Marie to fear the worst. The nurse assures her every­thing will be okay as the doc­tors tend to the child, but she can­not be calmed – every fibre of her being sens­es some­thing is wrong. Final­ly, her daugh­ter, Sara, cries out for the very first time.

A few years on, Marie takes her three-year-old daugh­ter to the park. While Sara explores the play­ground and befriends a cat, Marie gets to talk­ing to anoth­er moth­er. With­in a mat­ter of sec­onds, she los­es sight of Sara and runs through the park in a pan­ic. Fel­low park-goers and neigh­bours join in the search and Sara is even­tu­al­ly found near the train tracks, where she fol­lowed the cat to. She is unharmed and seem­ing­ly obliv­i­ous to the dan­ger she put her­self in, but Marie sim­ply can­not recu­per­ate from the shock.

Deter­mined to keep Sara safe at all times – regard­less of the cost – she decides to try the Arkan­gel, a secu­ri­ty sys­tem designed to allow par­ents to mon­i­tor their chil­dren. At first, Marie is only inter­est­ed in track­ing her daughter’s where­abouts, but with the many oth­er options offered to facil­i­tate Sara’s life, Marie’s pro­tec­tive­ness soon reach­es new heights.

Two women, one in a white coat and the other in casual attire, assisting a young child seated in a medical examination chair.

It all starts inno­cent­ly enough, but lat­er Sara is ostracised by her peers due to her lack of world­li­ness and her inabil­i­ty to read social cues such as anger, sad­ness and even pain, for these are emo­tions she has nev­er actu­al­ly wit­nessed fil­ter-free. Although she is capa­ble of feel­ing these sen­ti­ments, she does not know how to order them, let alone how to work through them, lead­ing to a vio­lent con­fronta­tion with her moth­er. When it tran­spires that the Arkan­gel might be to blame for her daughter’s imped­ed psy­cho­log­i­cal devel­op­ment, Marie decides to let go of her com­pul­sive need to pro­tect Sara – until a few years on, when her teenage shenani­gans cause Marie to relive that night­mar­ish day at the park.

Like sea­son three open­er, Nose­dive, Arkan­gel’ is not what you might be expect­ing from Black Mir­ror. Com­pared to many of the shows adren­a­line-charged episodes, Arkan­gel’ is rel­a­tive­ly calm and lev­el-head­ed in its pre­sen­ta­tion, an approach that pairs well with Foster’s direc­to­r­i­al style. It is cap­ti­vat­ing and sen­si­tive in its depic­tion of mater­nal instincts, but there was one minor flaw to Sara’s awak­en­ing” to an unfil­tered world: real­is­ti­cal­ly, it would have tak­en a child much longer to accli­mate to the real world after a life­time of liv­ing in a bub­ble, but Sara seems to han­dle the sud­den change with­out much consequence.

Arkan­gel’ takes the con­cept of Heli­copter-Par­ent­ing to an entire­ly new lev­el (“The key to good par­ent­ing is con­trol”). The world is rapid­ly chang­ing, and par­ent­ing meth­ods that were con­sid­ered appro­pri­ate just 20 years ago may not hold up today. But, if a parent’s only solu­tion is to edit and con­trol a child’s nat­ur­al expe­ri­ence, we are cer­tain­ly doing more harm than good. A kid needs to roll in the mud to build its nat­ur­al defences, they need to feel and under­stand the spec­trum of human emo­tion in order to evolve. Post­pon­ing, or even attempt­ing to halt these devel­op­ments entire­ly, will sure­ly stunt a child’s growth and stop them from becom­ing the per­son they could be.

The key to good par­ent­ing is know­ing when to let go – but giv­en the chance, wouldn’t every par­ent want access to the Arkan­gel sys­tem when their teenage daugh­ter goes miss­ing? There’s a fine line between over-pro­tec­tive­ness and the inva­sion of pri­va­cy and, in this day and age, it is becom­ing increas­ing­ly blurred. Your moth­er is watch­ing you, and she doesn’t like what she’s seeing.

Black Mir­ror Sea­son 4 is avail­able on Net­flix from 29 December.

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