‘Hotel Reverie’ Feels Like a Modern Take on ‘The Twilight Zone’

Black Mirror season 7 episode 3 proves a unique departure for the streaming powerhouse

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There’s an analogy that crops up again and again in discussions about Black Mirror: “It’s like a modern The Twilight Zone.” Even those uninitiated to the show have likely heard the words a few times. It’s not hard to see why the comparisons are drawn.

Both shows are profoundly imaginative, cerebral, and undeniable products of their time. As with the 1950s sci-fi anthology show that dominated culture for decades, each episode of Black Mirror stands largely on its own. No recaps are needed. Unlike in The Twilight Zone, there’s a common thread that links the show’s disparate chapters: technology. It’s also more dystopian at its core.

Perhaps more than any other episode, though, it’s “Hotel Reverie” that taps into the liminal and dreamlike unease that so often defined its spiritual predecessor.

As technology has surged ahead, Black Mirror’s writers have been effectively cornered into prophesying more and more futuristic innovations, as well as the twisted scenarios that could potentially stem from them. Science advances so rapidly that the minds behind the show need to project further into the future to avoid overlap with what they’ve previously written — or what’s already been invented. “Hotel Reverie” is an episode that feels like a byproduct of those creative constraints, for better and for worse.

As with episode 2 of the season, “Bête Noire,” this third episode depicts an advancement that’s so far-fetched I doubt it will ever come to fruition. It’s brought to life with much of Black Mirror’s signature realism; people in plain clothes traverse a world that’s not so different from the one we know today. And yet, it’s outlandish enough that it doesn’t quite spur the existential angst that Black Mirror is (in)famous for. The situation that Brandy, portrayed by Issa Rae, finds herself in isn’t so scarily believable that we’re all but forced to envision how we’d respond ourselves.

She thoughtlessly agrees to a role in what she assumes is a remake of one of the all-time great films. But as Brandy arrives on set, she realizes that she’ll be inserted into the movie through a synaptic device, and tasked with physically reanimating the role previously played by the dated old (male) actor — essentially giving the character a fresh, progressive coat of paint for modern audiences.

Spearheading this creative injustice and exercise in anachronism is Awkwafina. Setting aside the comic relief character with which she’s been so commonly associated, she plays what’s essentially a money-grubbing, virtual reality bureaucrat. (Seeing her appear in Black Mirror after watching Crazy Rich Asians only the day before was a delightfully jarring surprise.)

As a whole, it’s not one of Black Mirror’s most realistic premises. Yet it’s in this territory that the show has created some of its most traditionally enjoyable material. When it’s less grounded in situations we can actually imagine ourselves confronting, it’s given rein to lean into its raw, escapist side.

Much of the show’s appeal is in the prescient primers it offers on a quickly approaching future. It walks an interesting tight rope between philosophical value and entertainment. So many of the episodes that mean the most to me hardly fall into the category of fun viewing. Even still, I consider them integral consumption for anyone growing up in these strange times.

But without a few departures from that dark, dystopian form, the show wouldn’t have the same feeling of balance. Working through entire seasons might be a slog for viewers.

At the heart of “Hotel Reverie” is an interesting question: if we could replace the dated actors of the past with Timotheé Chalamet or Ryan Reynolds, would we? If we could derive more life — and more revenue — from classics like Casablanca, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Gone With the Wind, are the minds that brought us Snow White or Lion King live actions really above it? And moreover, would modern viewers be willing to eat them up— give movies a chance solely because they contain Ryan Gosling or Leonardo DiCaprio and not Cary Grant?

As in nearly all Black Mirror episodes, the promise behind the new technology begins to unravel. But how that manifests this time is unique. The plot of the movie within the episode gradually drifts further and further off its rails. As the story violently veers from course, all of the executives’ frantic behind-the-scenes toggling does nothing to set things straight.

Characters in the movie respond believably to the twists and flubs and begin exhibiting more human sides. They start to take notice of the synthetic world in which they’re living. They look up at fake skies and try to make their way out of the story through doors that have been tantalizingly painted onto the walls of the set.

The producers and technicians do what they can to shoddily salvage the story as it unfolds in real time — and in a way that feels comically applicable to much of the slop that makes its way to theaters. It’s a direct jab at all of the movies that producers realize shouldn’t be made, but make anyway. All of the projects that have too many millions funneled into them to be abandoned — critical holes in the writing be damned.

Another one of the philosophical anchor points of the episode is the idea that actors funnel themselves into their performances. As Brandy is inserted into the story, she finds herself interacting not just with the black and white caricatures that were written whole generations prior, but with the traces of real people beneath them. The characters lack knowledge of their true histories — of the entire world outside of the movie’s plot. But the idiosyncrasies of the bygone actors who portrayed them continue to reverberate all the same. Even the ones who have already passed away.

The haunting effect is expertly charged by Emma Corrin. She feels like an actress from another era, and while watching the episode, I couldn’t help but wonder if she and her co-stars truly belonged to a different time (despite seeing her in Deadpool & Wolverine, Nosferatu, and A Murder at the End of the World in the past year alone).

Even as a fervent lover of entertainment, the idea that real personalities poke through fictional characters isn’t something I always stop to consider. Yet shows and movies aren’t just defined by their writing, direction, cast members, and each of their separate energies, but by those actors’ entire lives up to that moment. The parts of their experiences that they could tap into and channel into their performances.

Seen in that light, it’s hard not to appreciate what a different world we’d be living in if Tom Cruise had been cast as the lead in The Shawshank Redemption. Or if John Travolta had played Forrest Gump while Jim Carrey was tasked with Buddy the Elf. (These unthinkable realities nearly came to pass.)

In both visuals and theme, “Hotel Reverie” represents a significant departure from the show up to this point. Though much of the episode airs in black and white, it’s framed in a widescreen aspect ratio more typical of the flat-screen era than classic television. It’s an effective clash between retro and modern. And it helps to remind viewers that, at the end of the day, Black Mirror is still its quintessential, futurist self even when it forays into the past.

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