Black Mirror Season 7 Review — Tech horror with a whiff of mothballs

Black Mirror has long held the title of a special series. The original concept was to create a kind of social statement about pressing societal issues born from technology — delivered as straightforwardly, harshly and hyperbolically as possible. Viewers loved the creators' boldness, which is why the second, third and all subsequent seasons appeared quite quickly. Unfortunately, the further it went, the harder it became for the writers. The originality of ideas and freshness of perspective suffered greatly, causing Black Mirror to gradually lose its edge. The seventh season burst into the media space with fanfare. Many foreign critics and viewers called it a triumphant return. We've also watched the new season and are ready to share our opinions on each of the six episodes.

The show opens with a very realistic episode. Or at least it seems so at first glance. The protagonist's wife is diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. There's a solution, but the treatment is experimental. The woman's personality will be copied to a server, then after surgery uploaded into an updated brain. No problem if some meat parts are missing — there's already a backup. The issue is there's apparently no storage inside the brain itself. Everything works via streaming, so the poor woman can't travel beyond cell tower coverage areas.

Naturally, problems arise over time. The corporation that performed the operation introduces tiered pricing. If you don't want to pay more, you'll have to listen to unskippable ads from a human voice. And you'll sleep much longer too. All this leads to an inevitable outcome. The couple has to go into debt just to survive. Eventually the money runs out completely, so the story ends quite sadly.

This episode highlights several issues. First, it combines realistic sci-fi with complete disregard for basic logic. Believing such technology might one day exist? Sure, why not. It's just as easy to believe a company would want to financially hook its users leaving them no choice. However, if you're over 20, you've surely heard of antitrust laws. In reality, such technology would inevitably attract government attention, which would then impose restrictions to prevent anything like this Black Mirror plot from ever happening.

Second, the story's overall predictability. Almost right at the start, the protagonist accidentally sees an online show where people do shocking things for donations. Of course the character is disgusted, and of course he ends up participating in something similar later. This is such an ancient plot device it's practically passé.

The acting saves the day. There are only two main characters and both feel understandable and alive. Watching the husband's endless attempts to extend his wife's life is truly difficult. Even if you start off skeptical, it's hard not to tear up by the end. This is far from the season's best episode, and the writing is straightforward and unsophisticated, but the main goal is achieved — the viewer empathizes with the characters.

An interesting exploration of a trendy concept in foreign social media — gaslighting. The premise is simple. Marie, a head pastry chef who invents new flavors for sweets, gets a new coworker — her former classmate Verity. The heroine feels uneasy despite there being no conflict between them. Soon strange events begin occurring, and Marie notices she remembers things no one else does.

If you think there's no place for technology here, you're absolutely right. The creators couldn't come up with a coherent explanation for the magic surrounding Marie, so they shoved in a super-mega-computer — straight out of 80s sci-fi. Verity turns out to be a genius who invented a device capable of creating entirely new branches of reality. Naturally, the servers for this machine fit neatly on the first floor of a mansion (too bad not in a backpack).

The genius programmer wastes her talent on revenge against school bullies (how else?), so this near-divine power gets squandered on petty grudges of a neurotic bookworm. That's how it goes.

Before the explanations kick in, the story is genuinely intriguing. There's information that Netflix released two versions of the episode with some differing elements. Each viewer saw one of two variations, making the script's plot device replicate in real life — gaslighting within gaslighting. Cool and original, no complaints. If only the story itself were the same.

When Verity explains what's happening, you can't help but facepalm. Never mind that someone of her intellect wouldn't cling to schoolyard revenge. But even the villain's final defeat feels, to put it mildly, contrived. This is roughly how computer enthusiasts are imagined by people who don't actually use or work with computers.

The overall impression after watching remains muddled. Observing events is interesting, but the resolution only evokes rejection and secondhand embarrassment. That's Black Mirror for you these days.

The weakest and dumbest episode of the entire season. The cringe level grows exponentially here and never lets up until the very end, but let's take things in order.

In the near future, black-and-white films from Hollywood's golden age no longer interest anyone. Everyone wants blockbusters starring various Ryans and Chrises (Cringe #1), while real art is ignored.

A studio holding rights to some classic black-and-white films is nearing bankruptcy, but there's a solution. A brand-new technology allows any actor to be inserted into any role in a film. And inserted isn't metaphorical here — the actor is surrounded by the film's virtual reality where they must literally live out every scene as their character.

The plot presents this technology as extremely cheap and needing promotion (Cringe #2). Apparently the creators haven't heard of VR headsets. The studio head hires experts to remake their most famous classic, but the only actor willing to play the white male doctor is a Black actress — though an incredibly popular one (Cringe #4). The gimmick? In the film, everyone still sees her as a white man, she must refer to herself using male pronouns, and perform all interactions with the female lead as if they shared traditional values (endless cringe).

It's hard to describe how many contradictions this concept raises. Let's quickly go through the main ones. First, the references to Ryan Gosling and Chris Hemsworth are obvious jabs at Netflix. Including this is unethical at best, especially remembering that Black Mirror only exists thanks to the streaming service.

It's perfectly obvious that such insertion technology couldn't possibly be unpopular. Moreover, the technical complexity wouldn't allow creators to waste resources on hour-long black-and-white films. Even today, VR headset technology is expensive yet capable of delivering incredible experiences. Imagine being able to step into a computer game without any headsets or wires? Only someone completely detached from technology could think this wouldn't be popular. These ideas might have made sense at the dawn of virtual reality, but not now when we can literally ask computers to create paintings or compose music from scratch. Virtual reality is now part of life.

The elephant in the room — a black actress playing a white man. Some reviewers might disagree, but we haven't seen a dumber attempt at inclusivity in ages. She's literally playing a man while referring to herself as one. Just cast a man — nothing would change except losing the strong female friendship subplot. Speaking of which, the other actress in the film is revived using incredible neural networks, allowing the on-screen character to behave naturally and react to everything the real actor does.

The lead actress's (the black one) performance is simply atrocious. Her character is supposedly successful yet complains about not getting lead roles she deserves — direct quote. By episode's end, viewers will understand exactly why she doesn't get those roles. The girl simply can't act. Inside the film, she takes forever to understand what's happening, then struggles to stay in character, constantly breaking immersion by using modern slang in period settings. The pivotal moment comes when she needs to play piano and — surprise — can't. This stuns the tech creators who were sure she could play. Apparently if this were Star Wars (Star Wars), they'd expect actors to wield the Force. And don't even ask how stunt scenes would work...

Another episode demonstrating the writers' inability to keep up with rapidly evolving technology. It's also a loose continuation of the experimental interactive film Black Mirror: Bandersnatch. A young games journalist is invited to interview famed game designer Colin Ritman, who demonstrates Thronglets — supposedly a new computer game but actually a front for endlessly evolving AI.

The premise is simple — observe a population of cute little creatures. Eventually they start talking to the journalist, though he only understands them after heavy LSD use. Years later, police arrest the now-elderly journalist for an unsolved murder. He immediately confesses but promises details only if the detective and psychologist hear his full story.

Incidentally, Charlie Brooker — Black Mirror's showrunner and head writer — began his career as a games journalist. This context matters. By 2025, only the lazy haven't compared video games to hard drugs, but now the analogy seems laughable rather than threatening. The same goes for the Tamagotchi concept featured heavily here. Fears about living creatures in tiny devices feel outdated — we haven't seen actual Tamagotchis in stores for ages. The world has moved on to far more advanced tech, making this feel like retro-futurism rather than cutting-edge speculation.

The episode tries addressing deeper themes like how far our culture is from ideal. But these thoughts remain superficial, lacking depth — and the short runtime doesn't help.

The result is a messy story imagining what happens when a Tamagotchi lives too long and its owner can't quit. Boring.

Perhaps the best episode of the season in terms of both execution and substance. A lonely man receives unexpected news — an acquaintance has died. The family asks him to share memories of the deceased. Though he can't even recall her face, he agrees for some reason. Using artificial intelligence, the man steps into old photographs, gradually unraveling a tangle of past grievances and mistakes.

This episode stands apart from all others. Here technology carries no special meaning — it's merely a tool. The essence lies in people, their lives and decisions. This is likely why the episode feels so alien compared to the rest of the season. The central tragedy and plot twist feel utterly realistic, yet the protagonist would never have reached these conclusions without the AI. This is that perfect synergy of drama and sci-fi we expect from Black Mirror.

Moreover, the central (and essentially only) role is played by Paul Giamatti — a true master of drama and emotional depth. By the finale, even seasoned viewers will struggle to hold back tears. Everything here works perfectly.

We won't describe the plot in detail — this episode must be seen firsthand, without others' opinions coloring your view. Just remember that Eulogy isn't connected to any other episodes, so you can easily watch it as a standalone story.

An unexpected continuation of Season 4's first episode USS Callister, picking up almost immediately after the original's finale. Talented programmer and innovative game creator Robert Daly had crafted digital copies of his colleagues and transferred them into his game. There they gained sentience and free will — only to fall under Daly's complete control. After defeating the tyrant, the team of former game developers turned brave space explorers ventures into the open world to meet other players.

USS Callister became one of the show's most beloved episodes of all time. Clever Star Trek homages, an interesting premise and vibrant visuals cemented its place in viewers' memories. However, the sequel needed to offer something new. Another battle with an insecure programmer-geek would have been tiresome. So the writers replaced the main villain with a greedy corporation that turned the cool computer game into a cash cow chasing donations.

The sequel's theme is another tired cliché familiar to every gamer. Yet unlike most other episodes, this finale is executed with flair and imagination, making it consistently engaging to watch. Viewed back-to-back with the original, it makes for a decent full-length sci-fi film. Sure, space looks toy-like, and there are only a couple of action scenes, but everything else is top-notch. The writers managed to organically develop the themes introduced earlier and bring them to a logical conclusion. The final twist does turn out rather schizophrenic again, but hey — this is Black Mirror, that's to be expected.

After watching all six episodes, we unfortunately can't agree with colleagues' opinions about Black Mirror's triumphant return to form. Showrunner and lead writer Charlie Brooker finds it increasingly difficult to strike that raw nerve that would resonate powerfully with most modern viewers. Time and progress march inexorably forward, so what worked well in 2011 no longer evokes strong emotions in 2025.

We live in the age of neural networks and widespread human replacement by machines. Fearing a robot uprising is already too late — it happened unnoticed and bloodlessly amid universal applause. Hundreds of specialists are already unnecessary in the job market, and the situation will only worsen. This should have been the focus of the new season of daring Black Mirror — not Tamagotchis, Black actresses playing white men, or resentful school geniuses who cracked reality's code. Yet the new season contains nothing even approaching relevance — not in a single episode.

That said, the series still manages to squeeze some emotions from viewers. Episodes 1, 5 and 6 provide decent entertainment, but that's only half the runtime — a poor result for such a show.

***

The creators of Black Mirror's seventh season have completely lost touch with their target audience. The project was always full of clichés, but now consists of nothing else. For gamers and tech-savvy viewers, everything here is kindergarten-level simplistic. The average viewer will realize they've seen something similar about five years ago.