“the living being had no need for eyes because there was nothing outside of him to be seen…”
taking a break from writing and brainstorming to immerse myself in other media, this show was slapped onto the front page of my netflix. i had hoped to not think about time travel but instead was roped into an uneasy atmosphere, sinister feelings around the corners of rooms, just out of reach, like the cycle of time, an unnatural meeting with fate.
this show is serpentine. it coils around for a few episodes and then begins to tighten its grip. the characters fall into hopeless cycles, a desire for change pushes them to commit horrible acts to break a chain that they were linked to long before they realized it was there.
it happens in threes. generations of mistakes erase the history that they thought they were given. the serpent is born then eats itself, only to be born again starving, craving something that will never be captured; a new beginning.
there are no fresh starts. there are no resets to the timeline here. there is consequence and deceit. there is murder of self. there is rebirth through incest. pictures change as the camera pans across a quiet room to show the ripples of a stone hitting the water and echoing across years.
good shit.
shadowart 