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The whole idea of a show like this is a little cynical in 2017 — another speculative-fiction pastiche, another tribute to something old and better.
We’re familiar with those beats by now, and it’s not so thrilling anymore.
And the episodes center around online dating, hyper-realistic movie experiences, and a web search gone wrong.
The choice to avoid self-seriousness and try to make something fun out of a science-fiction/horror fest is the main thing that sets ’s Robert Buckley) is about a dating website that literally builds romantic partners to user specifications.
The most selective of all, Raya, is invite-only—you basically have to be a celebrity with a sizable Instagram following to be asked. Apps now exist for pairing people based on the right astrological sign (Align), an affinity for sci-fi (Trek Passions), similar eating habits (Veggiemate), and a love of weed (My420Mate).
Having interests in common is not a bad thing—especially if, say, religious identity is important to you—but making sure every potential match has a beard (Bristlr) or is at least 6'4" (Tall People Meet) means interacting only with the segment of humanity we think we’ll like.
The League is just one of a gaggle of services that appeal to the better-heeled crowd; there’s also Sparkology, the Dating Lounge, and Luxy (“Tinder, minus the poor people”—no joke).
“Chronos,” the least interesting episode so far, follows a physics student (Ashley Rickards) who can’t buckle down on an important homework assignment because a mysterious force has somehow erased her favorite 1990s cartoon about time travel.
Hamill’s narration sneers over her initial panic, sarcastically suggesting that the audience can’t relate because “you work hard. You’d spend your whole night watching a science-fiction TV show.” That episode is as weird as the rest, but it feels more like an easy joke about hipsters and binge-watchers than an analysis of any modern techno-paranoias.
It’s a little heavy-handed with its point: “Online dating?
No, I don’t want some algorithm telling me who to date.” But there’s also a pretty good Soylent joke, and the story eventually spirals away from the expected, easy social critique into something totally bizarre.But here’s the thing: When Ok Cupid scrubbed the data, it found that political affiliation didn’t tip the scales on compatibility.