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<!–> [!–> <!–> –><!–> –>and 73 more ballots from the over 500 voters who determined our list of the century’s best movies<!–> –> 100 Best Movies And more ballots from … actors Naomi Ackie, Uzo Aduba, Casey Affleck, Joel Kim Booster, Daniel Brühl, Jemaine Clement, Richard Gadd, Tony Hale, William Jackson Harper, Naomie Harris, Sally […] More
The story of death at a mogul’s retreat (no, not “Glass Onion”) has a few interesting ideas about tech within a familiar mystery scenario.An eccentric tech billionaire invites a slew of notables to a private retreat, where a detective must solve a mysterious death. If the premise of “A Murder at the End of the World” jumps out at you, it may be because you not so long ago encountered it as the premise of Rian Johnson’s “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery.”Or it may jump out at you because “Murder” is the latest creation from Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij of Netflix’s “The OA.” That series was a poetic and baffling testament to the force of human connection, involving interpretive dance and a telepathic octopus. The murder mystery, in comparison, is among the most literal, plot-reliant of genres. Could Marling and Batmanglij really have made something that … ordinary?FX’s “Murder,” which begins Tuesday on Hulu, is neither as weird as you might hope or as conventional as you might fear. (Or vice versa.) It takes an Agatha Christie scenario and spins it into a chilly, stylized cyber-noir with ideas about artificial intelligence and some familiar Marling/Batmanglij themes of global consciousness. Think of it as “Glass OAnion.”The detective here is a relative newcomer. Darby Hart (Emma Corrin), an intense young computer hacker, tracked down a serial killer with Bill Farrah (Harris Dickinson), a moody amateur investigator she met online and fell in love with. Her true-crime memoir earns her some literary notice, as well as an invitation from Andy Ronson (Clive Owen), a tech magnate who is convening a meeting of “original thinkers” — artists, entrepreneurs, an astronaut — at a sleek, remote hotel that he had built in Iceland.The purpose of this Arctic TED Talk is, ostensibly, to cogitate on the existential threat of climate change to humanity. Andy, however, has another intelligence at his disposal — an advanced A.I. called “Ray” that manifests in the holographic form of a neatly goateed man in black (Edoardo Ballerini). Andy believes in the transformative power of this technology and others, but transformative to and for whom?Darby questions whether and why she fits in with the luminaries at the gathering. But she accepts the invitation for the chance to meet a tech idol: Not Andy, but his wife, Lee Andersen (Marling), a renowned coder who dropped out of public life after a Gamergate-style harassment campaign and lives in seclusion with Andy and their young son (Kellan Tetlow).But another guest grabs Darby’s attention: Bill, now a famous artist, whom she has not seen since a falling-out at the end of their investigation. Before they have time to catch up — don’t say the title didn’t warn you — somebody turns up dead, and Darby’s wiring for suspicion kicks in.Misogyny and technology are the twin themes of “A Murder.” Darby was drawn into the serial-killer case by her talent for hacking and her empathy for forgotten female victims. A common theme of her investigations is how little credibility she is granted as a young woman. When she pulls her hoodie over her head, yes, it is a universal visual symbol for “hacker,” but she also might as well be drawing an invisibility cloak.Then there’s A.I., which pervades the story like it does Andy’s icy retreat. In some cases technological reality has moved faster than the TV production process. A scene in which Ray produces a Harry Potter story in the voice of Ernest Hemingway astonishes the guests, for instance, but you’ve likely seen a dozen similar examples over the past year.Still, “A Murder” has a multifaceted view of A.I., not just as a threat but as a possible helpmeet. On the one hand, Andy is another arrogant billionaire who looks to software to compensate for the deficiencies that annoy him in humans. But the surveillance features built into the retreat’s setting, however creepy, are also a trove of clues. As Darby digs into the mysterious death, she finds herself using Ray as a source and even an aide — part Sherlock Holmes’s Watson, part IBM’s.The present-day whodunit isn’t especially inventive, but Corrin carries the story with a nervy, febrile performance that invests Darby with the life that the dialogue sometimes fails to provide. And the series has atmosphere to spare, making the most of the stark volcanic beauty of its location in Iceland. (It also shot in Utah and New Jersey.)The flashbacks to Darby and Bill’s serial-killer chase, which take up much of the seven episodes, are emotional and involving; Dickinson gives Bill an open-wound vulnerability. But rather than adding resonance to the whole, these scenes end up outshining the long, talky story they’re meant to flesh out.“A Murder,” in its main arc, feels like a bit of an artificial life form itself. The blandly drawn retreat guests get no more than a stroke or two of characterization and are weighted with self-serious dialogue. Andy mostly plays to bullying tech-mogul type. And while Marling always uses her enigmatic air as a performer to good advantage, Lee is more of a riddle — how did a coding revolutionary become a tech tradwife? — than a rounded character.Marling and Batmanglij’s work has often been more about the delivery of ideas and intangibles than plotting or naturalism, however. At its best, “A Murder” has grandeur, chilly beauty and intellectual adventurousness (and it pulls off a satisfying final twist). It might have been more effective if, as with so many limited series lately, it were tighter and shorter. In this sense, technology is the culprit: Streaming-TV bloat has its fingerprints all over this case. More
“A Murder at the End of the World” resembles other luxe murder shows. But the mark of the creators, Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, is clear in its idiosyncratic tone and themes.The filmmakers Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij have what they call a “garden.” It’s not an actual garden, however. It is what Batmanglij described in a recent interview as a “garden of ideas that exists between us.”“Some of those seedlings we’ve been cultivating for years, since our early days of sitting on skateboards in one of our bedrooms in Silver Lake and talking to each other,” he said last month, sharing a booth with Marling in the lobby of the Bowery Hotel. “We were ready to cut one of those blooms and plant it.”The latest product of that garden is their new series, “A Murder at the End of the World,” premiering with two installments Nov. 14 on FX on Hulu. The seven-episode show has a conventional, almost trendy hook: It is a murder mystery set at a remote Icelandic luxury retreat for some of the world’s most influential people, details reminiscent of buzzy recent films and shows like “Glass Onion” and “The White Lotus.” But with its time-jumping structure, uniquely eerie tone and warnings about artificial intelligence and climate change, it is also unmistakably the work of the idiosyncratic creators behind “The OA,” “Sound of My Voice” and “The East.”However even they were surprised by the protagonist they ended up with, a Gen-Z amateur detective named Darby Hart, played by Emma Corrin (“The Crown”). A true-crime author who grew up trying to crack cold cases on internet forums, Darby and her sleuth skills are tested when a guest ends up dead at a gathering hosted by a tech billionaire (Clive Owen) and his former coder wife (Marling), where a remarkably advanced A.I. named Ray (Edoardo Ballerini) serves as an assistant to the guests.“All of a sudden this outlier poppy in the corner, Darby, showed up, and said, ‘I represent the times,’” Batmanglij said.In “A Murder at the End of the World,” Emma Corrin plays a young true-crime author trying to solve a murder. (With Harris Dickinson.)Chris Saunders/FXMarling, 41, and Batmanglij, 42, talk in metaphors and big ideas. This makes sense if you’ve seen their body of work, which includes surreal sagas about grand topics, among them the afterlife and the end of the world, often featuring characters who consider themselves soothsayers.They have been planting their seeds for decades. They met as students at Georgetown in 2001 and started collaborating a couple of years later when Batmanglij invited Marling, then a summer analyst at Goldman Sachs, to participate in a 48-hour film festival, making a short film over the course of one weekend.The experience convinced Marling, the class valedictorian who was a double major in economics and art (with a focus on photography), to leave her business ambitions behind. “We had found this profound space together,” she said. “We basically have been telling stories in one way or another much in that fashion ever since.”Their first co-written feature, “Sound of My Voice,” was directed by Batmanglij and featured Marling, her long blond hair giving her an ethereal look, as a mysterious cult leader who claims to be from the future. It premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2011 alongside “Another Earth,” which Marling also starred in and co-wrote with another Georgetown friend of theirs, Mike Cahill. Both films sold and Marling was the de facto star of that year’s festival. But after their Sundance success and despite bigger offers from Hollywood, she and her cohorts opted to recommit to their indie mission.“We had this instinct of not doing those things, like not playing the girlfriend of the movie star in this sort of empty action film,” Marling said. “And to instead be like, ‘No, let’s keep telling our stories. Let’s keep getting better at telling them.’”Marling and Batmanglij followed up “Sound of My Voice” with “The East,” starring Marling and Alexander Skarsgard, about a woman who goes undercover with an anarchist group committing acts of eco-terrorism.“The OA” only lasted two seasons on Netflix but it built a devoted following.JoJo Whilden/NetflixTheir biggest platform yet came in 2016 when their series “The OA” debuted on Netflix. Marling played a formerly blind woman who arrives home, after a mysterious disappearance, having regained her sight and calling herself “original angel.” She tells the story of her life — which involves Russian aristocracy and a mad scientist experimenting on people with near death experiences — to a group of high schoolers and a teacher, showing them “movements” that can supposedly help them jump dimensions. In the even more ambitious second season, which debuted in 2019, there were plot lines about tree internet and a mind-reading octopus.Critics found the series fascinating and flawed, but it had a passionate following. When Netflix canceled the show after the second season, fans started a hashtag campaign and one even staged a hunger strike outside Netflix headquarters in Los Angeles.“It had scope and ambition and was, by design, not the lowest-budget project around,” said Cindy Holland, who was the streamer’s vice president of original content at the time. “It became clear that it was going to be unsustainable as an ongoing project in that form at Netflix at the time, and it was a fairly sad experience for all of us, including the audience.”Marling said she sees the unexpected end of the series now as almost prophetic. “‘The OA’’s cancellation was a harbinger for a transformation for something that was afoot in the industry,” she said.“The space had been disrupted, a bunch of creativity and market energy had rushed into that space,” she continued. “But now it was going to calcify or solidify into something that in many ways was a broken business model and much worse than what had been before.”“We make the world so real between ourselves at first, that it’s literally like a third place that exists,” Marling said of how she and Batmanglij develop their ideas.Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesShe and Batmanglij are still convinced they will finish the story of “The OA” at some point, in some form, but they decided to move on to what would become “A Murder at the End of the World.” The pair wrote the episodes — some together, some separately, some with other writers — and took turns directing. The show’s themes seemed to get only more relevant as they were making it.“It was really eerie, actually, to see with this one the number of things that when we had set out to write it four years ago it was science fiction,” Marling said. “When we talked about any of this stuff with people, we had to explain what is a deep fake, what is an A.I. assistant, what’s a large language model — how does that work? And then by the time we were editing it, to see everything come to pass.”In an interview, John Landgraf, the chairman of FX networks, called the show a “Russian nesting doll of an idea” — a comparison Netflix also used regarding “The OA.”“There was a very rigorous depiction of technology and the physical world,” he said, explaining that the concept appealed to him because it promised a “very grounded, well-researched depiction that nevertheless had a very big set of abstract and imagistic and emotional ideas attached to it.”While fear of the apocalypse hangs over much of the Marling and Batmanglij canon, including “A Murder at the End of the World,” their work rarely feels dystopian.There is also a twinkly-eyed belief in the good of humanity lurking underneath the techno-terrors, and the need to pay attention to feeling over just data.“A Murder at the End of the World” takes place largely at a tech mogul’s remote Iceland gathering for influential people.Chris Saunders/FX“They want to be putting positive ideas out into the world,” said Alex DiGerlando, the series’s production designer and longtime collaborator. He said this optimism manifests in various ways on set — any time they are met with a potentially disheartening scenario, he said, they find a way to see the bright side.Among the roadblocks they hit while filming “A Murder at the End of the World” were supply shortages, Covid outbreaks and disruptive storms. Marling got hypothermia during their monthlong shoot in Iceland. (The hotel’s interiors were built on a soundstage in New Jersey.)“I was kind of blown away, to be honest, by how indefatigable they were,” Landgraf said. “They just literally did not, would not quit on anything until it was the very, very best they could possibly make it.”Marling said that the intensity of her and Batmanglij’s commitment takes root even before they share their ideas with anyone else.“We make the world so real between ourselves at first, that it’s literally like a third place that exists,” she said. “It has a floor and a door, and we can open the door and invite people in.”Floors, doors, gardens — Marling and Batmanglij might mix metaphors, but what’s clear is that they see their stories as tangible objects that they nurture together with a willingness to embrace the unexpected.“We don’t have a favorite plant or tree or seed or sapling in the garden,” Batmanglij said. “We treat them all with so much love because sometimes it’s the one that you don’t water at all that starts blooming.” More
