A standout series worthy of its hype.
Full spoilers for The Handmaid's Tale continue below.
When Hulu’s adaptation of The Handmaid’s Tale premiered, it was nearly 100 days into Donald Trump's divisive presidency, and every parallel to the present-day, no matter how minuscule, felt like it was offering a warning to its audience to be careful about what could happen in a political climate left unchecked by public concern.
Of course, Margaret Atwood’s novel, a dystopian cautionary tale, is exactly that, regardless of the decade in which you’re reading (or watching) the story. But the current political climate certainly didn’t hurt just how timely and topical the series felt—and it felt pretty darn current.
Now, after all 10 episodes have been released, it’s clear that the phenomenal debut season owes its excellence to the career-best performance of Elisabeth Moss, the gorgeous directing and cinematography by pilot helmer Reed Morano, and the writing and source material itself.
It’s hard to overstate the impact of the first three episodes, all directed by Morano, which were released simultaneously in April. In “Offred,” “Birth Day,” and “Late,” we were introduced to the horrors of Gilead, a present-day (or near-future) U.S. overtaken by a cruel, strict, and violent theocracy in which women aren’t allowed to read or write, and a particular caste of them, Handmaids, are forced into sex slavery meant to combat a worldwide infertility plague (strictly for procreation, as if that’s a consolation for being raped monthly).
Morano’s blue-filtered vision of New England (by way of the series’ Toronto location), the blood-red cloaks of the Handmaids standing out among the cerulean ones of their mistresses, was just eerie enough to make Gilead feel simultaneously very authentic and yet detached from the real world. Subsequent directors adhered to her vision, though as the episodes went on the more Gilead felt like its own world.
Showrunner Bruce Miller wisely recognized that The Handmaid’s Tale is inherently a feminist story, and puts women front and center throughout. Moss, who could close her eyes and pick any episode to submit for Emmy consideration—she’s that good in all of them—carries the series as the lost yet determined Offred, formerly June, who’s torn between resigning herself to her new life and fighting to reunite with her husband and daughter.
Samira Wiley is June’s BFF Moira, similar in spirit to Wiley’s Orange Is the New Black character Poussey—she’s a fighter, and inspires June to do the same. (Juliard-trained Wiley is no slouch, either, but this is Moss’ show.) Also deserving of praise are Gilmore Girl Alexis Bledel, who does her career-best work as Ofglen, a fellow Handmaid and key to Offred’s resistance; Yvonne Strahovski, whose cold, conflicted Serena Joy was a key architect of Gilead and struggles with her role in legislating her own subjugation; and Madeline Brewer, whose unhinged Handmaid Janine offers Offred an unexpected outlet for holding on to her own humanity.
For all of The Handmaid’s Tale’s strength in world-building, though, the series seemed to struggle with pacing. Though deliberately slow in the beginning (yet improbably tense), the continued focus on establishing Gilead and its surroundings, juxtaposed by flashbacks to the main characters’ lives before, kept the momentum from actually pushing forward.
The seventh, eighth, and ninth episodes in particular flagged a bit as information about the Handmaids’ resistance movement was doled out frustratingly piecemeal in favor of more flashbacks. That’s probably the downside to having such a deeply talented bench with characters that are all important to the story of a whole, because while the episodes were no less fascinating to watch, a sense of urgency was missing.
The mechanics of Gilead certainly are fascinating, but skimping on actual action in favor of laying out more power dynamics felt like overkill.
Make no mistake, though—the first season of The Handmaid’s Tale was all about power: who had it, who didn’t, and how the powerless could get it back. The promise of the resistance movement suggested in the first three episodes didn’t pay off until much later, though its mere existence buoyed Offred as she discovered her own resilience.
Momentum issues aside, The Handmaid’s Tale’s visuals and performances more than make up for any flaws in pacing. And the more time we spend in Gilead (and the more distance we get from Inauguration Day), the less it feels like the real world. Though timing couldn’t have been better, The Handmaid’s Tale stands on its own merits, regardless of real-life politics.
The Verdict
In the peakiest of Peak TV years, The Handmaid’s Tale is a standout series worthy of its hype and a standout showcase for women in TV. Though the story loses a bit of steam before the end, the finale sets up an exciting and, considering it will move beyond the story of Atwood’s original novel, unprecedented Season 2.
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