Sandman

A worn-out joke that answers the question of who will be the next James Bond with a lesbian black woman, is coming true in the adaptation of Neil Gaiman's masterpiece – the comic book series about the ruler of the realm of dreams. The creative team has eagerly embraced all the fashionable ideological trends that excite American urban liberal elites. In one scene, a character tells his agent that he will sell the film rights to his novel on the condition that the producer guarantees equal representation of all races and genders. It sounds like an ironic shot at oneself. Unfortunately, the filming of the series followed this logic, so we encounter arbitrary changes in the gender of Gaiman's characters. In one episode, the medieval and early modern London is teeming with black characters and, above all, homosexual characters, and visually, half of the characters are same-sex couples. The LGBT phenomenon is presented schematically and clumsily, artificially grafted onto stories that resist it, and in a concentration that is at least disturbing. If Netflix wanted to cater to the needs of the LGBT community, it could have adapted better source material. This is just a mutilation of a comic book classic. The above-mentioned is, indeed, the most visible deformation of the series at first glance, but I have a much bigger problem with its literalness. Gaiman's comics are meant for adult readers, working with suggestions, and their greatest strength lies in the stirring of imagination. The Sandman series chews over, trivializes, and strips away its internal tension. It dilutes the philosophical overlay of the work into a consumable form for American teenagers. At times (like in the case of the cute dragon serving to restore Sandman's power), the series is disgustingly sentimental. On the other hand, in potentially strong scenes, it relies on actors who cannot transfer the charisma of comic book characters into the film world (Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer as Sandman's most dangerous opponent simply doesn't work). To be fair, Tom Sturridge in the lead role is spot-on and the final standalone episode works well. As for the rest – am I really supposed to be outraged that the writers (unlike in the Lucifer series, where the creators completely destroyed the comic book source material) more or less stick to the main storyline defined by Gaiman? I cannot find the quality of the screenwriting work, only remnants of myths and reflections of Morpheus' world. Overall impression: 45%. (06.10.2022)

A well-made reimagination of Gaiman’s great comic book which is much more faithful to the original than I expected. Sturridge is perfect in the role of Dream and you can see how much Holbrook is enjoying himself as The Corinthian. The only downside is the casting of some of the supporting roles, which actively disturb the viewing experience. Lucifer, Death and Rose Walker simply do not live up to the potential of the comic book... Because Death was meant to be a likeable Goth that everybody ends up looking forward to meeting before the end comes. (30.08.2022)