Does Netflix pay attention to YouTube comments? If so, it must be interesting to see the 2,200 (and counting) responses under the debut trailer for its upcoming movie, The Electric State. The reactions aren’t exactly enthusiastic.
“It’s literally an art book,” says one commenter. “How did they make it look so wrong?”
“The tone looks nothing like the book whatsoever,” another critic notes. “I loved the hopeless, lonely, and dystopian feel of the source material.”
While it’s often unwise to judge a film too harshly based on its marketing, the 147-second promo for Netflix’s reported $320 million sci-fi adventure raises several questions. Most notably: why adapt Swedish artist and author Simon Stalenhag’s graphic novel of the same name if you’re not going to stay true to it?
At first glance, the general premise seems to align with the source material. The Electric State is set in an alternate version of late 1990s America, where society has collapsed following a high-tech civil war, leaving behind the remains of giant robots and flying machines. The story is primarily told through the eyes of a teenager named Michelle (played by Millie Bobby Brown), who journeys across the Mojave Desert with a silent, childlike robot companion named Skip.
However, the film adaptation – directed by the Russo brothers and penned by Marvel veterans Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely – diverges significantly from the graphic novel. In Stalenhag’s version, robots and drones are operated by humans using a device called a Neurocaster, which resembles a virtual reality helmet. Originally developed by a massive tech company called Sentre for military use, the Neurocaster became so addictive that it led users to neglect their own well-being, resulting in starvation or zombified wandering, all consumed by a hive intelligence.
In the film, while Neurocaster helmets are still prevalent, they aren’t linked to a disastrous civil war. Instead, the Russos have introduced another robot uprising, a concept seen in everything from Karel Čapek’s groundbreaking play Rossum’s Universal Robots to the action thriller I, Robot (which also strayed far from its source material).
Beyond the changes to the story, the film appears to shift the tone dramatically. The Electric State book presents a minimalistic and lonely narrative about two characters dwarfed by an extraordinary landscape, with their destination and purpose initially ambiguous. The film, as indicated by the trailer, seems to depict a breezy adventure about a bright-eyed kid on a quest to find her missing brother. Unlike the solitary Michelle of the graphic novel, Millie Bobby Brown’s character is now surrounded by colorful friends who banter in a distinctly Marvel-like manner. The inclusion of Chris Pratt—Hollywood’s go-to action star—further emphasizes the film’s blockbuster appeal.
The original source material is a low-key, beautifully crafted mood piece. In contrast, the film adaptation features scenes like Chris Pratt surfing a robot hand.
In terms of shifting style and tone, it would be akin to transforming Cormac McCarthy’s The Road into a hauntingly minimal prose piece into an Amblin-style summer film starring Dwayne Johnson and a CGI dog. Or adapting Naughty Dog’s acclaimed game The Last of Us into a post-apocalyptic stoner comedy about a sentient mushroom uprising. While such adaptations could be made, one must wonder why the original source material was even optioned.
It’s possible that the finished film will be less silly and kitschy than the trailer suggests. However, given the addition of numerous characters not found in the graphic novel—including Giancarlo Esposito as a moving television—it’s clear that significant liberties have been taken. The trailer’s use of Oasis’ Champagne Supernova, a song about the restorative powers of substances, likely alludes to the addictive nature of the Neurocaster helmets.
Stalenhag’s original work is beautifully illustrated and written, focusing partly on the all-consuming allure of technology and the potential dangers of rushing into an interconnected future, especially when that technology is produced by corporations prioritizing profit over consequences. Perhaps this theme resonates a little too closely with Netflix’s current trajectory.
