David Ash’s eight part series builds a world we can all relate to and then systematically picks it apart into something inexplicable. What we have taken for granted as the basics of being human become uncanny – the series explores humans as being “subject to the forces of nature, not one of them.” The choices we think we make aren’t actually made by us at all. Incompleteness explores what this means for love, work, family, life and death through three interconnected couples.
Alex, a terminally ill workaholic, is directing and editing a feature film written by Paul, an obsessive compulsive who also happens to be being pursued by the Chinese government for his work on a genetic code for immortality. The general consensus is that the film isn’t very good, but Alex is determined to fix it. This plot point fades into the background relatively quickly, becoming more of a vessel for displaying how the lives of Alex and Paul affect one another, the film, and consequently the two actors playing the lead role. The blurred lines between what occurs in front of the camera and what is occurring in real life make for some very engaging non-linear storytelling that continually keeps viewers on their toes.
While working on the film, Alex begins another project – a documentary for his unborn son so they can still be part of each other’s lives even after Alex’s death. While the premise behind the documentary is well intended, it doesn’t quite manifest as the emotional, heart-warming project Alex thinks it should be. Firstly, Alex’s wife, Jodi, is extremely unhappy in the relationship and quite evidently struggling. I found the way Alex tried to manipulate reality for his documentary incredibly uncanny. He sits his wife down in front of the camera; she is heavily pregnant, looking dishevelled and depressed. He doesn’t actually see her through the lens. Despite their failing relationship, he tries to get her to talk about why she first fell in love with him. The complete lack of regard for her wellbeing is painful to watch. There is something truly eerie, but not all together negative, about recording an emotional monologue for your unborn child and then switching back to a completely neutral emotion as you drag the clip into Premiere Pro. Jodi’s character is very well developed throughout the series in a way that surprised me. We learn about her aspirations, wanting to return to education – how this was side tracked by the return of Alex’s cancer and the arrival of their child. As both characters are developed, the painful realities of Alex’s attitude towards her become more evident. While he quit his job to pursue his passions, she remained stuck in a job she hates.
I feel Alex as a character is best represented by an incident where he unlocks Jodi’s phone and goes through her messages, angrily accusing her of spending all day texting another man. When he realises the messages are from an AI chatbot, he laughs heartily at his misunderstanding, asking why she didn’t just say. Not for a second does it bother him that his wife is so incredibly lonely that she is taking comfort from talking to a computer. Bethany Ford Binkley does the character of Jodi an immeasurable honour with a performance that cuts right to core. Matt Bailey as Alex manages to walk the line between an incredibly self-centred and flawed character while also giving the viewers enough to hold on to empathetically. Bailey and Binkley play against each other remarkably to create a devastating reality that melts into an even more devastating unreality as present day Jodi enters into scenes from her and Alex’s past to warn him of the devastation to come.
In parallel with this narrative Paul begins dating Kayla, who works as a barista at the coffee shop where he writes. He’s a quirky man, plagued by insecurities and intrusive thoughts. Kayla is patient as they start their relationship, working with Paul’s issues rather than trying to force him to be different. Watching a relationship develop and grow through difficulties is very emotionally engaging and David Ash draws us in to their world with ease. Just as Paul’s character is a complex nexus comprised of the past, present and future, Kayla too is a fully developed and realised character. Ash is truly commendable in his ability to create characters with sustained depth. This means there are no weak points in the narrative or areas where attention to detail lapses. Katie Willer as Kayla plays against Clarence Wethern as Paul with a strong sensitivity. To be both sensitive and strong sounds oxymoronic, but Kayla can certainly be described as both. Willer strikes a balance between the two, helping to create an enigmatic relationship with Wethern that feels like it shouldn’t make sense, but does. Wethern captures the idiosyncrasies of Paul, which, at times, are rather alarming, but still manages to make him a charming character.
Delving into Paul’s past to see how this relates to his present state is an especially interesting avenue explored in the series, delving into themes of mental illness and trauma. Some of the more metaphysical themes are a little heavy handed in their inclusion, however. Paul is often used as a vessel for delivering speeches about the universe and humanity’s lack of agency within it. One or two of these speeches can be impactful and are indeed fundamental to Ash’s engagement with some of the larger, more abstract themes he explores. However, the frequency of these proclamations means the metaphysical dimension of the series occasionally feels a little “bolted on” and slips away from the “show rather than tell” methodology. This styling could be specifically linked to Paul and the strange way his brain works, and so definitely isn’t misplaced. The themes, including the questioning of reality, work together as a cohesive whole, both drawing everything together and picking things apart.
The cohesiveness of the themes is also dependant on the character relationships developed throughout. The structuring of the narrative is very decisive in its action to not place one narrative strand above another. Not only are they all interconnected, but, as in the theory of incompleteness, they also rely on one another as an external variable to explain themselves. This is most evident in the relationship between actor and actress John/Michael (Juan Rivera Lebron) and Emily/Chelsea (Christine Weber) as their relationship on screen and in reality is affected by the lives and relationships of both Alex and Paul. The distinction between reality and fiction, and the question of whether a distinction can really be drawn at all, is perhaps best shown through the subtitles of John and Emily’s on and off screen relationship.
With superb performances all round, excellent cinematography from Brennan Vance, and an impressive musical score from Charlie McCarron – Incompleteness wouldn’t be misplaced on any range of television networks and streaming services.
Watch the trailer below!