Silo is a fascinating series about contradictory people struggling to define what memory means to them.
It operates on a high-concept level, where humanity has dwindled to just 10000 people living in a strictly confined underground structure, after an unknown cataclysm left the surface unlivable. But beneath the surface, it is a character study of power structures, hierarchy, and how culture – both reinvented and preserved – fights against fascism.
In just two short seasons, the third out this week on July 3rd, and a fourth and final one due next summer, Silo has earned its place as one of the best TV series of the decade. As the bold and inventive narrative shocks and delights in equal measure, season 3 reaffirms its place as one of the best shows you'll find.
As we near the endgame for Juliette Nichols (Rebecca Ferguson), Robert (Common) and Camilla Sims (Alexandria Riley), who continue to fight for control of the Silo, the series leaps hundreds of years back in time to reveal the devastating lies that led everything up to this point.
Where the second season of Silo left Juliet stranded with Solo (Steve Zahn) for much of the action, the third isolates her in mind and spirit. She's back home, but after the tragic events of last year's season finale, she's traumatized to the point that she has lost her memory. All she knows is what Camille, her newfound confidant and right hand, tells her: Juliet is now mayor, and it is up to her to keep the Silo alive, no matter the cost.
Meanwhile, in our present, Daniel (Ashley Zuckerman) and Helen (Jessica Henwick) stumble on a vast government conspiracy when Daniel's sister crashlands her military plane under suspicious circumstances. Their story unfolds in bits and pieces, like half-forgotten dreams we recollect in deja vu, yet their inclusion forms the most propulsive and anxiety-inducing part of the entire season.
Fans of the book will recognize the events, but not the structure. As a series, Silo streamlines the narrative to keep focus on Juliet, yet it never feels like a compromise or a lesser version. What works in the book translates to screen with grace and often in immensely rewarding ways. Showrunner Graham Yost mines the text for repeating patterns and uses them to great effect. History and future walk hand in hand, and it is up to us to remember our past so we don't repeat the cycle.
It all feels very timely and prescient all at once. At numerous points during the season, I felt an uncomfortable chill in my spine. Looking back at my notes, I jotted down more than once, "just like in real life."
Ferguson is as impressive as ever in the lead. Her performance as someone always on the move, now trapped in a conversation she doesn't understand, is tremendous. It isn't necessarily autism-coded, but there are enough elements to make it feel that way. Luckily, this isn't an offensive caricature like Sherlock or similar shows. Instead, Juliet is lost, frustrated, and hopeful whenever she grabs hold of a strand of the right thing. She is alone in a crowded room, and Ferguson perfectly conveys how lonely that feels.
Riley and Common, as Robert and Camilla, are equally stunning. They're the power couple of the Silo now at odds with one another, even though they're striving towards the same goal. Both seek absolution and safety, yet operate on unfinished knowledge filtered through broken sources. In past seasons, they've been the operators who work in the unspoken places of the conversation. The threats and broken promises that keep us awake at night. Now, as they effectively control the Silo, their power turns against them.
Watch, for example, how brilliantly Common plays the part of a man who erases others for a living, now terrified at the prospect that one day his son might forget who he was. Or how Riley steps into the role of someone playing the pawn, yet pulling the strings, all the while scratching at a nagging feeling that there's still someone in the shadows who has control of her. It is a pitch-perfect, nuanced performance that took my breath away.
As Silo barrels towards its final season, it's remarkable to watch how confidently Yost and his team control their increasingly sprawling narrative. The story now operates on multiple time periods, across two different Silos, multiple hierarchies and investigations, and even a few narrative curveballs that will have fans of the books in shock. Yet none of it feels superfluous. There's a wonderful sense of a puzzle falling into place as the series reveals how each mystery fits together.
The final two episodes of the season are some of the most intense and brilliant TV I've seen all year. By the end, I was on the edge of my seat, grasping at the sofa cushion, both relieved it was over and angry that I had to wait another year for more. If it sticks the landing, Silo can be regarded as an all-time great series, regardless of genre or decade.
It is one of the most impressive, breathlessly entertaining shows ever made.
