After one episode that just about pushed enough past the realm of ‘okay’ that I actually struggled to write about it, Love, Death & Robots returns back to its core content. Execrable garbage.
It looks ugly, it sounds ugly, and provides no actual reason to exist other than pad out a series that increasingly seems to have had very little impetus behind it in the first place. It’s a heist scene, like we saw last year in Solo: A Star Wars Story, or over a decade ago in Firefly: The Train Job except it is told with little invention, style, and a cast of characters that seem explicitly designed to antagonise the viewer out of watching.
These dudes look like rejects from an early nineties action-figure saturday-morning tie-in cartoon, brought into the present day by some twenty-something whose aesthetic taste starts and ends at the word edgy. Given how much I’ve hated spending time around Philip Gelatt’s writing this season, it’s truly a feat that the two worst episodes would be those written by others.
In this case it’s writer/director Vitaliy Shushko whose work is at its most palatable when just being shamelessly derivative. I’d admit that there’s nobody quite writing dialogue like this, if only because each and every line is such a cruel assault on the viewers’ ears that not a single other soul would dare commit them to paper.
Oh, these poor voice actors. At least they did what was necessary, not tamp down on the delivery of a single line, let them flow onto the screen as coarse and unfiltered as possible. It’s not even an original inversion of the tropes, Sucker of Souls way up in the episode order was also a self-aware homage to kids TV and even though it to is bad at least it weren’t so fucking mean.
This loathes its inspiration, the final note existing to basically question the audience, hey wasn’t all this stuff you cared about stupid and meaningless? Sure, maybe, but I was a kid, so fuck off ya preachy cunt.
Adults were a mistake.
Love, Death & Robots is currently available to stream via Netflix
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