I’m not dead, I was rewatching Darker than Black

If there’s one thing I love about Darker than Black it’s the ‘rewatchability’: the sense that it’s more rewarding the second time around. The fact that the dramatic and comedic moments still hit the spot are proof of its quality but when there’s so much to think about that you can’t catch it all on the first sitting, you have to admit that it’s damn well-written.

Because it’s Caturday

I can’t help but attribute this mostly to the director Tensai Okamura. The show benefits greatly from an art department who whipped up such a cool film noir atmosphere and the nuances in the dialogue suggest that there were some gifted script- and screenplay writers on board too; nevertheless the sensibilities and devices that have made previous works of his so enjoyable are very much in evidence here.

The science fiction isn’t the typical futuristic cyberpunk: it’s bordering on the spiritual at times in the same way that quite a lot of sci-fi Bones productions are. Wolf’s Rain was even more futuristic and dystopian, but it had a retro aesthetic and it was a backdrop to a character-driven story anyway. Similarly DtB has a few minor futuristic flourishes but beyond the labs in Pandora it’s more or less indistinguishable from the present day. The strength of the drama and occasional comedic moments are also quintessential Okamura.

The setting is even more interesting in some ways than a society that’s already far ahead technologically. It’s the beginning of a new world order with profound changes that most people are still coming to terms with; the shifts in power and the popular opinions in a state of flux are fascinating. Alongside the familiar is a whole raft of terminology that’s never fully explained: as far as the spiritual sci-fi thing is concerned perhaps Clarke was right in stating that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

The aspect that sums this up for me is the nature of Dolls and Contractors. I stand by my view that knowing the nuts and bolts of how they come to be is unimportant: given the amount of insight shown towards the characters I’m sure the writers would have made more of an effort on this too if they thought otherwise. It might be some product of scientific endeavour, or some supernatural ability bestowed from on high. How knows?

The appearance of the Contractors and Dolls is I think suitably shrouded in mystery because it reflects the suspicion and conjecture shared by many of the supporting cast in the story. I loved the little conversations like those of the noodle bar owner who, pretty understandably really, points out how some sort of superpower would be a neat thing to have. The obeisance thing is probably classified so from the general public’s point of view the power of a Contractor is something to be looked upon with awe.

As an aside I can’t help but view the power of a Contractor in a similar way to the mutants of the X-Men: the new kind of human has everyone from men and women in the street to national governments in a state of continual fear and suspicion. They are individuals amongst the general public with superhuman abilities that threaten the security of the authorities and threaten to marginalise the superpower-‘have-nots’. In the same way that we have Sir Ian McKellen hellbent on revenge and Sir Patrick Stewart channeling mutants’ abilities as a force for good, there are Contractors working for a number of organisations, often motivated by their own personal agendas.

The notorious selfishness and ruthless streak that are exhibited by the Contractors is a massive open secret from the viewer’s point of view and are therefore one of the most fascinating peculiarities of DtB for me. Why, when constantly refuting the idea that Contractors are heartless monsters at so many points, is this erroneous assumption voiced so frequently?

The Contractors that I’ve seen in the first season form quite an extensive demographic cross-section and have a variety of personalities and backgrounds. This is interesting in itself because, unlike the mutants of the X-Men the Contract, whatever it is, requires some degree of consent; in any case it probably means that they are all part of this new sector of society for many different reasons. The mechanics of the Contract don’t take away their sense of feeling completely; they can’t all be the same then, can they?

But isn’t that what the ordinary humans want to believe? Unless they see the bizarre and sometimes unpleasant obeisance that is the cost of a Contract’s ability, the image of a Contractor is that of a new, more powerful type of human being who in all probability works for a shady government or criminal organisation with powers that don’t carry a cost. I suspect this preconception is also a product of what drives a Contractor to make the pact in the first place, which is something they all seem to have in common.

We Brits can take comfort in the fact that we still excel in creating smooth villains

The obeisance is, with only a few exceptions, incovenient at best and unpleasant at worst (I’ll admit that having to down a can of Guiness doesn’t look like a cost to me at all). Being a Contractor changes you into something unfamiliar, ostracised by society and unnatural – therefore you’d need a good reason to do it in the first place. If there’s one thing that people should despise Contractors for, it’s the fact their Contract is a convenient escape from whatever harsh realities their lives dealt them.

Conflict is often at the heart of a Contractor’s nature, as examplified by November 11′s obeisance in the form of a vehement non-smoker having to light up every time he uses his ability. After the moment of weakness or cowerdice that motivates them to seal the deal they have to live with being something they, and society at large, despise: sometimes I wonder if Contractors are trying to convince themselves that they feel nothing.

There’s a lot of room for working personal stories into this framework, and the series does just that on a number of occasions. In a similar way the Dolls throw out the devoid-of-emotion card and gleefully tear it up; in my view it was done to emphasise who the character was, why s/he became a Doll and what the glimmering remnants of humanity tell you about them. For all the sci-fi trappings and frequent specialised terminology it’s a very personal story and uses the narrative to shine a spotlight on individuals’ lives. Moments like learning the backstory of a Contractor who only appears for an arc or two, or seeing one of Yin’s rare smiles upon hearing a familiar piano tune, are the things that stay most firmly in my memory and make it such a special series. Now for the second season…