The OA

I’ve heard many things about The OA. Some love it, some hate it, most recommend it, and yet I had no particular desire to watch this show. I tend to stay away from science fiction thrillers, as I find myself constantly analyzing the probability of the show’s situation rather than actually enjoying the show. But, in the spirit of trying new things, I pressed play, and prepared to be underwhelmed. That definitely wasn’t the most optimistic outlook, but it was honest.

For the first thirty minutes of episode one, I was in a state of utter confusion. Who is this girl? What happened to her? Where did her scars come from? Are they a metaphor for some deep truth to be revealed in a later episode? I knew nothing, and unsurprisingly, I felt nothing. But by this point my interest was peaked, so I decided to at least finish the first episode.

Let’s just say one episode turned into two, and then into three. I found myself captivated by a show that shouldn’t be captivating, at least not to me. I wanted to watch more and more, but after three episodes, I was mentally exhausted. The expertly woven plot covered my mind like a thick blanket. Even now, several days after completing those episodes, I randomly draw ties between seemingly unrelated details.

In my opinion, that’s where the true value of the show lies: in the details. I could use the platform of this blog to draw conclusions about the innovative filming techniques, or about the use of colloquial language in the script. But I’d rather talk about the details that make this show worth watching.

The dramatic difference in the length of Prairie’s hair, before and after the incident. The depiction of another dimension, framed with stars in groups like you’ve never even imagined. The diverse group of confidants that play such an important, but quiet, part in the story: they remind me that sometimes, all you need is someone to listen. The light that refuses to leave Prairie’s eyes, even when she can no longer see what light is.

These are the details that kept me watching. I found myself unable to turn away, for I feared that every distraction would cost me a detail, and I’d be one step further from piecing it all together.

Clearly, this show was not dreamt up overnight. Even from the pilot episode, the complexity of the plot is overwhelming. Normally, I don’t enjoy shows that are so mentally taxing to watch, but something about this one keeps me coming back for more. Maybe I feel some connection to the plot, or I want to see the heroine of the story get her life back on track. Whatever the reason, I know that I will continue to watch.

Maybe Prairie will find her long lost love. Maybe, she won’t, but she’ll rediscover herself in the process. Maybe she doesn’t reach any sort of resolution, and continues to exist in a state of mental instability. Here’s the catch: I don’t think I really have a preference. I don’t want the story to end, I just want it to develop. Do you remember that old cliche, “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey”? I’m beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, it could be true.