Hell is other people.
Maniac is a story about two strangers, Owen (Jonah Hill) and Annie (Emma Stone). The former is a schizophrenic and pathetic figure, oppressed by his dominant and shady family. His condition, in which he sees things that aren't there, is worsened by his family who opportunistically emphasize his inability to distinguish reality from illusion to get him to lie under oath for his guilty brother. Annie, on the other hand, is an assertive and impulsive woman who is traumatized after a tragic accident kills her sister, with hom she shares a difficult past. She keeps people at bay with her antagonistic character and easily lies to others to get her way.
Getting these two characters to meet and interact in a meaningful way would already constitute a narrative challenge. Maniac, however, has them meet during a pharmaceutical trial in a dystopian setting that looks like it was envisioned in the 90s. It is visually compelling, but also darkly comical: you can make a buck by having ad-buddies read your ads out loud and the trial's "computer is horribly depressed."
The setting serves as a backdrop in which themes of psychoanalysis are introduced. As the season progresses, these become a bit ludicrous, but that is easily forgiven as it becomes apparent that the pharmaceutical trial is a metaphor for the imperfections, the pride, and the over-intellectualism one might encounter in the typical therapeutic setting. (As you may imagine reading this review, I recognized myself quite a lot in James (Justin Theroux).)
Maniac is a clever and ironic take on psychotherapy packed in a compelling setting, that keeps up the pace through the means of a costume drama. Somehow it pulls all this off while remaining a very real and emotionally gripping story about two flawed strangers finding some salvation from their torment through each other's friendship.
Hell is other people. Incidentally, they are also the way out.
Maniac is a story about two strangers, Owen (Jonah Hill) and Annie (Emma Stone). The former is a schizophrenic and pathetic figure, oppressed by his dominant and shady family. His condition, in which he sees things that aren't there, is worsened by his family who opportunistically emphasize his inability to distinguish reality from illusion to get him to lie under oath for his guilty brother. Annie, on the other hand, is an assertive and impulsive woman who is traumatized after a tragic accident kills her sister, with hom she shares a difficult past. She keeps people at bay with her antagonistic character and easily lies to others to get her way.
Getting these two characters to meet and interact in a meaningful way would already constitute a narrative challenge. Maniac, however, has them meet during a pharmaceutical trial in a dystopian setting that looks like it was envisioned in the 90s. It is visually compelling, but also darkly comical: you can make a buck by having ad-buddies read your ads out loud and the trial's "computer is horribly depressed."
The setting serves as a backdrop in which themes of psychoanalysis are introduced. As the season progresses, these become a bit ludicrous, but that is easily forgiven as it becomes apparent that the pharmaceutical trial is a metaphor for the imperfections, the pride, and the over-intellectualism one might encounter in the typical therapeutic setting. (As you may imagine reading this review, I recognized myself quite a lot in James (Justin Theroux).)
Maniac is a clever and ironic take on psychotherapy packed in a compelling setting, that keeps up the pace through the means of a costume drama. Somehow it pulls all this off while remaining a very real and emotionally gripping story about two flawed strangers finding some salvation from their torment through each other's friendship.
Hell is other people. Incidentally, they are also the way out.