Despite part one of this review, whitewashing isn’t the foremost subject on my mind when I consider Altered Carbon. Neither is the Frankensteinian construction of its world. Or the nudity and the rather long hetero-sex scenes. I mentioned it but, like everyone else, I wandered into the realm of race. It’s difficult to return from there. I lack the dexterity to transition from digging into the perception of racial erasure to romance and all its attendant qualities. And that’s what I’m thinking of when I think of Altered Carbon: romance. Why is it absent from the conversation? Is it because it is difficult to discuss or because it is not worth discussing? This aversion to even touching on the pulpy, achingly sad, romantic heart of Altered in turn elides the significance of Quellcrist Falconer to Takeshi Kovacs, hell, Quellcrist herself.
When we don’t talk about a character, we also don’t talk about the actor portraying that character. Altered Carbon was on my watchlist solely because of Renée Elise Goldsberry (Evangeline of One Life to Live to me, Angelica Schuyler to everyone else) and I stayed for Renée Elise Goldsberry. I stayed because it is rare to see a Black woman be the One — the Heroine, the Tragic Hero, the Smartest, the Most Philosophical, the Most Dangerous, the Better Fighter, the Leader, the Beloved. It is exceedingly rare to see a Black woman do it all sporting amazing lock twists. Ms. Goldsberry imbues this character that is everything to everyone with such genuine charm that even her rather mundane revolutionary talk sounds fresh. Quellcrist enters a scene and it becomes an adult drama rather than a mishmash sci-fi tropes and allusions.
When I say Goldsberry’s Quellcrist ramps up the adult drama, I mean Altered becomes a full-on romance. I was not prepared for it, not for the earnestness or the sizzling chemistry between Goldsberry and Will Yun Lee (O.G. Kovacs) and Goldsberry and Kinnaman. In the premiere, Bay City Takeshi (Kinnaman) contemplates suicide and projection Quellcrist talks him down. The way she edges into the frame, the way he looks at her with such agonized longing and belief, I was fucking sold. That scene is one of three that sated my hungry romantic heart:
- “Force of Evil” — B.C. Takeshi takes a break from VR-inflicted torture to cut out his heart and offer it to projection Quellcrist. It’s cliche, sure, but the actors express it so well, it felt raw and exemplary of how essential this woman is to our man Takeshi; and
- “Man With My Face” — B.C. Takeshi confronts projection Quellcrist outside the hospital during Ortega’s bionic limb surgery. I like fraught exchanges and this is the first time we see Takeshi rage at Quellcrist for dying. Forgive me for rolling around in ecstasy, especially when Quellcrist regards him with a mixture of sympathy and impatience. It’s almost as if Quellcrist’s backup was downloaded into his brain, complete with wrought, poetic lines and repressed sighs. Beloved projections aren’t supposed to be exasperated by angst. Loved. It.
And then “Nora Inu” automatically started. Upon its conclusion, Altered transformed into a tragic love story.
Flashback episodes, when done right, are the best episodes of a series. Motivations crystallize, the story expands even as it narrows to the spark that started the present action, previous scenes or lines that seemed extraneous suddenly become loaded when their origins are revealed. Because “Nora Inu” is episode seven, and because episode seven of Stranger Things 2 was a complete mess, and because everything is connected now, it is viewed as the weakest installment. Based on the absence of Ortega alone, it is the strongest episode. It is fantastic because we finally see O.G. Kovacs in action, from his reunion and instant alliance with his sister to his total despondency when he loses everything. So much happens that “Nora” should feel bulky and uneven, but it manages to combine all the best things about Altered into one discrete, beautiful, affecting package.
“Nora Inu”, aside from highlighting the only two people Takeshi loves, gives us a full view of O.G. Kovacs, and it does not disappoint. Go back to what I said about how not talking about a character marginalizes the actor portraying said character. I’ll wait. Back? Okay. The same applies to saying an episode is weak and therefore not worth discussing, thus eliminating Will Yun Lee from the conversation*. A massive oversight because Lee crackles. Even though Kinnaman is the Takeshi Kovacs we first see and spend the most time with, Lee is the Takeshi Kovacs I want to spend the rest of the series with. He’s so good, he can pull off lines like, “Her words are oxygen to me.” Man. Alive. Slayed. This is a dispatch from the afterlife.
For a love story, any love story, to work, it must inspire and excite that transportive quality of feeling one gets when diving into the psyche of another. It must show or contain that element of energetic transference between couples, that strange synergy (ugh, corporate talk, but it’s the only word within reach and I am in an office, so) that feels as though souls are fusing and to separate would, to paraphrase my Romance Mentor, Charlotte Bronte, fracture the communion and leave the lovers to experience exsanguination. That affinity between Quellcrist and Takeshi, that tie that carries them through space and time and existence, is what elevates Altered from a really pretty spectacle to something with substance. It’s in “Nora Inu” where we understand the fundamental yearning informing Takeshi from premiere to finale.
All of this drooling wouldn’t be possible without the undeniable chemistry between Renée Elise Goldsberry and Will Yun Lee. Honestly, if Netflix commissions another season and there’s more than three seconds of Lee and Goldsberry interacting with each other, they are joining Claudia Black and Ben Browder’s Aeryn and Crichton in the sci-fi wing of my pantheon of lovers.
And now, the rest:
- Rei (Dichen Lachman) wearing Ortega’s body, getting naked and flirty with Takeshi? Strong Lannister Twins vibes.
- The story of Rei eating the only thing she had left of Takeshi, his shirt, was devastating, and a prime example of the extremes of cute aggression (don’t let ‘Dimorphous’ put you off, read the study or go the Vice route). Lachman did such a fine job expressing how adoration mutates into possessiveness, and how that in turn leads to dominion over a vast criminal network. Love is complex, friends.
- We need more female villains.
- Ortega. Ortega, Ortega, Ortega: every time the character appeared, my interest dove to none. If the character were male, would I have been less annoyed? Unlikely. But the character is another female officer of the law who still believes in justice despite all evidence to the contrary and is feisty and not in need of protection (but is) and who gets a bionic limb and can literally break down walls and bust through ceilings. Whatever. Blah.
- I get Altered Carbon is supposed to be pulpy, gumshoe sci-fi, but can can we ditch the cliched dialogue? Let’s pump up the writing to match the visuals. My eyes nearly rolled out of my skull when Abboud pulled that ‘hurt her and I’ll kill you’ line every father/male protective figure has stashed away in his head. It must be an involuntary reflex or something.
- That gun that looked like a fancy staple gun but could recall bullets via magic (physics)? It reminded me of every fancy gadget Q gives Bond and Bond ends up destroying after a single use.
- Imagine a Westworld-esque show about the AI hotels, with only a fraction of the relentless misery and slaughter. You’re welcome.
- So, naturally, I can watch a spin-off with Lizzie and Poe battling other AIs and taking on Meths for the soul of Bay City, as long as no one ever refers to Bay City as ‘the City’ or ‘My City’.
- MVPs: Gangbanger Abuela and Poor Man’s Mama Elliot as portrayed by Matt Biedel and Cliff Chamberlain, respectively. The re-sleeve plot potential was realized to maximum effect with these two actors. So good.
- Lizzie. Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie: for every Ortega trying to be strong, give me a Lizzie who is. How refreshing to see a story about a victim growing into a survivor who grows into a force who brings the reckoning in an absolutely stunning latex one-piece. This character needs their own show or limited series or graphic novel or comic or web series, something. Even better, bring back Hayley Law’s Lizzie to help Takeshi find Quellcrist and go adventuring.
- In sum: Renée Elise Goldsberry is gorgeous, Will Yun Lee is stunning, and Altered Carbon is a romance.
*Google ‘Altered Carbon Cast’ and Will Yun Lee is not present in the line-up. In fact, his character, listed on IMDB as ‘Stronghold Kovacs’ (which technically is correct until you see Byron Mann listed as ‘O.G. Kovacs’, which is wrong) was apparently played by Leonardo Nam, who is present in the line-up. Just like Black people, Asian people are not interchangeable.
