'Mr. Robot' Has Only Gotten Better With Time

Time​ Magazine

4 days ago

Starting today, the USA Network drama Mr. Robot is available to stream on Netflix. It's a great time to introduce a new wave of viewers to the series; between 2015 and 2019, it was one of the most prescient, anti-capitalist shows on TV. At the tail end of the network's optimistic 'blue sky' programming era, this was a techno thriller with prestige-drama aspirations, injecting its core character study with trenchant social commentary.
But despite creator and showrunner Sam Esmail's success in airing four seasons of his passion project with little intervention from the network, Mr. Robot never quite took off to the same extent as many of its peers, including critical darlings like FX's The Americans and HBO's The Leftovers. Following a universally acclaimed first season, the show got weirder, bolder, and marginally less gripping on an episode-by-episode basis, at least during a polarizing second season that appeared on far fewer year-end 'best TV' lists than the first.
Today, though, the show's occasional missteps feel like part of its charm—integral pieces to a grand vision that Esmail executed with confidence. Time will be kind to Mr. Robot; don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Here's what to know before you dive in.
What is the show actually about?
Rami Malek stars as Elliot Alderson, a young, clinically depressed man working as a cybersecurity engineer at a company called Allsafe. At night, Elliot moonlights as a cyber-vigilante—and his hacking skills attract the attention of one Mr. Robot (Christian Slater), the enigmatic leader of a hacktivist group called fsociety determined to cancel all consumer debt and take down the massive corporation E-Corp (or 'Evil Corp,' as Elliot's brain interprets it).
Sounds very Fight Club…
Esmail wears his influences on his sleeve, and Fight Club is one particularly obvious one, from the anti-consumerist setup to the Tyler Durden-esque title character. (Taxi Driver is another, evident from Elliot's voiceover narration and the me-versus-society mentality that leads him into several deranged rants.) But Mr. Robot feels like its own specific cocktail of sci-fi and thriller ingredients, and Esmail isn't afraid to directly reference his inspirations—as when he borrows the Pixies' 'Where is My Mind,' iconically used in Fight Club, near the end of Season 1.
It's also not much of a spoiler to acknowledge that Elliot's fracturing identity is a consistent throughline of Mr. Robot. What's going on in Elliot's head is just as important as the latest heist to hurt E-Corp. (In fact, the last couple episodes of the show are basically devoid of hacking.) The sooner you make peace with that focus, the more you'll enjoy the show's many flights of fancy: beginning, perhaps, with the fourth episode, a harrowing and hallucinatory dip into his consciousness as he experiences drug withdrawal. That one feels straight out of David Lynch.
Just how weird does the show get?
Season 1 of Mr. Robot is the most grounded, and Esmail only directed three of the episodes, though his distinct style—with faces isolated at the bottom edge of the frame as if to emphasize the characters' alienation—was present from the beginning. But he takes over as full-time director from Season 2 onward, dialing up the experimental episodes: a 15-minute '90s sitcom parody; an entire installment presented as a single shot during a riot; a hostage situation with high personal stakes, structured like a five-act play. The show also flirts with science fiction as it goes on, teasing the possibility of time travel and alternate dimensions. That flexibility when it comes to both genre and tone—the show can be funny, suspenseful, heartbreaking, and terrifying—makes it memorable.
Does it ever get bad?
Most people would agree Mr. Robot is at its worst in Season 2, especially with one key Elliot-centric storyline dragging on much longer than it should. And while the show is filled with interesting supporting characters—from Elliot's morally compromised childhood friend Angela (Portia Doubleday) to the slimy E-Corp brownnoser Tyrell Wellick (Martin Wallström) to a trans cyberterrorist named Whiterose (BD Wong) operating as the Minister of State Security with her birth name—not all of their arcs get the same time to develop and wrap up in satisfying fashion.
But the show's occasional lags in pacing are much more bearable on a binge, where you can inhale a whole stretch of slower episodes rather than waiting a week and praying for plot movement each time. Besides, the majority of the dips in quality derive from Esmail prioritizing stylistic playfulness and experimentation over the relatively straightforward, linear storytelling of Season 1. In many ways, Season 2 is easier to admire in retrospect, but it's still a good time if you go in with an open mind.
Is the ending satisfying?
The show's viewership took a huge hit in Season 2 and never really recovered despite a solid, improved Season 3 and a genuinely rich, fascinating Season 4. In fact, watching back Mr. Robot after knowing where it's all going, the occasional bumps in the road feel beside the point; the show sticks the landing in a way that reframes the entire series in a surprisingly moving way. Credit Esmail, whose projects since include the podcast adaptation Homecoming and apocalyptic-thriller novel adaptation Leave the World Behind, for sticking to his vision for the series—and never straying far from the journey of its unique and oddly relatable protagonist, the heart of the series.
Credit should also go to Malek, whose work as Elliot led to starring movie roles like his Oscar-winning turn as Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody and his casting as a Bond villain. His stellar vulnerable breakout performance anchors the entire show. It's immediately evident, just from watching the pilot episode, when Elliot Alderson first invites us into his world. Once you're in, you won't want to leave.