Say what you’ll concerning the quality of this film or that television show, we live in an age of wonders. Stories so exquisitely imagined on paper that it once seemed ridiculous to even consider attempting to capture them on film are commonly adapted at this point, and infrequently well. (Fingers crossed, “Lord of the Rings.”) At this point is there any story that is really unimaginable to supply?
Until recently, “The Sandman”—Neil Gaiman’s magnum opus about Dream, a.k.a. the Sandman, the everlasting being who oversees the universe of dreaming that we go to once we sleep—has remained that unimaginable quest. A recent audible series starring James McAvoy has been well received; but for a long time, film and tv adaptations have repeatedly didn’t yield a satisfying script.
And in some ways perhaps that’s been for the higher, since the graphic novel series is a novel and exquisite read, an exquisite series of stories inspired equally by O. Henry, Edgar Allan Poe and Flannery O’Connor, about sin and hope, horror and humanity.
Until recently, “The Sandman”—Neil Gaiman’s magnum opus concerning the everlasting being who oversees the universe of dreaming—has remained an unimaginable quest.
But in any case these a long time when “The Sandman” has been locked away, last week Netflix released its first season, which adapts the primary two graphic novels. And it’s in some ways perfectly realized. The world and its characters utterly capture Gaiman’s giddy cocktail of drama, flair and silliness. “Sandman” has a wild, expansive universe; in any given episode you would possibly end up meeting the Devil, or a man with a pumpkin for a head (his name is Merv and he’s wonderful), or Death herself. A part of the enjoyment of the series is just allowing it to sprawl and anticipating how we’ll get to interact with all these wonderful settings and characters in future seasons.
The solid can also be stuffed with actors who get you excited as soon as they seem on screen. Gwendolyn Christie as Lucifer Morningstar, ruler of Hell, is utterly magnetic. Jenna Coleman, because the magical troubleshooter/troublemaker Johanna Constantine, sparkles with delight. Every scene during which David Thewlis appears as a person with a plan to make use of Dream’s power to vary the world thrums with anxiety.
The series is broken into two parts. In the primary five episodes, Dream (played by Tom Sturridge with a quietly precise expressiveness) escapes from a jail during which he has been trapped for over 100 years, returns to the dreamscape (often known as The Dreaming) to seek out it in ruins and goes in pursuit of tools stolen from him that he needs in an effort to bring things back into balance. These episodes are very much universe-builders, introducing us to Dream and other wonderful characters like Cain and Abel, who live within the Dreaming with their pet baby gargoyle Irving; Matthew, a funny talking raven voiced by Patton Oswalt; or the Corinthian, an escaped nightmare with teeth for eyes—yes, you read that right; enjoy going to sleep tonight—who wanders the earth killing people and feeding their eyes into his. We enjoy each latest character and idea. The scene during which Lucifer and Dream battle is breathtaking in its strangeness and creativity.
What might we find out about ourselves as seen through the eyes of this quiet god who spends eternity watching us dream?
But there’s an odd stasis in those early episodes, too, a way that Dream’s story hasn’t really began yet. Thankfully, in Episode 6 we get an interlude during which Dream spends a day together with his sister, Death, walking together with her as she lovingly helps people through the experience of dying. It’s some of the lovely and comforting visions of death I actually have ever seen portrayed in media. Kirby Howell-Baptiste is so perfect as Death, I actually would love her to be there when I am going. The episode also introduces Robert Gatling, a person whom Death agreed to spare from dying until he desires to die, whom Dream visits once every 100 years. And the 2 stories each help flesh out Dream and his own desires and struggles. While the world around him is stuffed with wonders and nightmares, he himself is unsure who he’s and the way he should proceed. The 2 tales provide perfect examples of the powerful meditation on being human that “The Sandman” has to supply.
The last 4 episodes follow Dream on one other quest; but this time, perhaps consequently of the meetings with each Death and Life, the show becomes more playful. Certainly one of the storylines involves a convention of serial killers; one other involves a dream missing from the Dreaming that truly seems to be a sentient field. The series also becomes more personal, with a vibrant young woman named Rose at the middle of the story, who’s desperately trying to seek out her little brother, while Dream wrestles with the impact of Rose’s strange unconscious capability to enter and alter the Dreaming itself. Suddenly there are very real stakes, and Dream’s cool/sad goth god exterior is challenged in ways in which make him each more lovable and lots more disturbing.
Permeating those last 4 episodes is a quiet admiration for the characters’ courage and likewise their weirdness. John Cameron Mitchell leads a solid of eccentrics who live in a Florida hotel, whose dreams we get to look into. In some ways they’re quite pedestrian. One person feels trapped in a loop; one other dreams of the person they wish to be; there’s a dude who dreams of getting sex with hot ladies. However the final result is generally a deeper curiosity about them and affection for them.
A danger with fantasy shows is that they will lose themselves within the spectacle, within the look-what-we-pulled-off, and never offer much in the best way of soul. Mockingly this is usually much more true when a story deals with supernatural or religious-themed material. A show can get so excited to roll out its tackle the Devil or God that it forgets that the story still must mean something. It has to have some form of purchase on our humanity that we are able to walk away fascinated by.
The story of the landscape of our dreams and its keepers is rife with potential. What might we find out about ourselves as seen through the eyes of this quiet god who spends eternity watching us dream? The primary season of “The Sandman” is stuffed with promise. I hope on this unsteady era for streaming it is going to be allowed to supply much, far more.
Correction: An earlier version of this story’s photo caption incorrectly identified the actress as Kirby Howell-Baptiste playing Death. The actress within the photo is Vanesu Samunyai, who plays Rose Walker.