Zero Day, review: The Fragility of America according to the Essence of the Great Serial Story
Robert De Niro is the protagonist of a political thriller show in which the narrative assumptions spectacularize (and unmask) the contradictions of the United States. Perhaps, among the most ambitious Netflix series (for the sake of occasional viewers).
In jargon, a zero-day attack is equivalent to the unexpected collapse of a computer system at the hands of hackers who exploit unknown software and/or hardware vulnerabilities. Here, the series, decidedly ambitious (perhaps among the most ambitious of Netflix?), created by Eric Newman relies precisely on the jargon concepts - which we have unfortunately learned to know - to create a show that is as much a thriller as it is political.
Needless to say, a show capable of immediately capturing the attention of users. Together with Zero Day, directed in the six episodes by the firmness of Lesli Linka Glatter, there is an effectively effective idea, supported by a livid, rhythmic, cohesive structure.
An important production for its casting choices, its atmosphere, for its themes. Zero Day, behind the numerous and perhaps excessive twists, and behind the obvious exaggeration, hides a disturbingly real American cross-section, translating the climax of terror imposed by those who maneuver power. A writing that is close to that of Tom Clancy or Michael Connelly, as well as the daughter of a new cold war that imposes "security and deterrence" rules at the expense of unheard people.
Zero Day: a hacker attack annihilates America
Written by Newman together with Noah Oppenheim and Michael Schmidt (with a journalistic background, and it shows), Zero Day immediately takes us to the heart of the action: the United States is shocked by an unexpected and dynamite hacker attack that, in a handful of seconds, manages to take down the country's computer systems, generating a chain of incidents.
Another attack "on the heart of America", chatters Fox News, while they count the dead and the damage. Terror, among other things, seems to be the means and not the end: in fact, during the hacker attack, a threatening message appears on the devices that promise the beginning of the end. The authorities are groping in the dark, while President Mitchell (Angela Bassett), as often happens, must look for a culprit for the obligatory retaliation.
Suspicion would fall on the Russians (as per narrative and, we would say, contemporary rules), however, former President George Mullen (Robert De Niro), is much loved by the Americans (the reason? He is empathetic: a quality that politicians seem to have overlooked), has other ideas.
His strong popularity pushes Mitchell to appoint him as head of a special commission of inquiry. They must act quickly, and they must find the culprits. As tension and paranoia rise, Mullen does not give up using very unorthodox methods - acting beyond the Law -, finding himself in the middle of a conspiracy aimed at subverting the order of the impregnable America.
Between chaos and terror
Disinformation, lies, the far right, the society of control and repression and even megalomaniac billionaires. We were talking about how Zero Day was a totally different series, in terms of ideas and staging in the standard context of Netflix.
There is a cinematic approach ("It's like making three films in one", De Niro said in an interview with The Guardian), which however fits in with the dictates of seriality, without the fear of being - at times - hostile towards occasional viewers who have made the fortune of streaming platforms.
Wrapped in a dark canvas, which then reflects the evolution of the characters, Newman's writing rides the American slogans to overturn (finally!) the American patriotic ecosystem, revealing the ignoble face of a country devoted to ambiguity and unscrupulous sovereignty.
If the character of Mullen, reminiscent of Jim Carter, brought to life by an effective Robert De Niro, is the heart of the story, the figures that revolve around him are no less so: his daughter Alexandra, a member of Congress, played by Lizzy Caplan or the ambiguous fixer Roger Carlson with the face of Jesse Plemons.
A human color supported by the power of narration, outlined following the key element of our times: panic (which the modern political class likes so much). Zero Day, which in the plot twists could fall into the trap of exaggeration, going off track, shows how the United States, the world's leading power (?), is supported by an architecture that is as sumptuous as it is frail:
in this sense, the Netflix show, in the face of its serial essence (suitable for both binge-watching and extended viewing) reveals America's paradoxes and contradictions (all within reach of spectacularization), generating an intrinsic sense of chaos and latent terror. No longer just narrative ideas, but real, sadly democratic tools.
Conclusions
We wrote it: Zero Day, for idea, cast and conception, could be among the most ambitious Netflix series. A narrative that works, beyond the scenographic sense and beyond the plot twists that, at times, seem to focus on exaggeration rather than on the coherence of the story.
If the cast works (needless to say, Bob De Niro), what works above all is the scheme of a language that overturns American propaganda, uncovering the terrifying truth that lies behind the world's leading power. Finally, a series for pretentious and attentive viewers.