As a seasoned viewer and critic of countless survival dramas, I must admit that “Penelope” has managed to captivate me in a unique way. The series, much like a well-crafted haiku, beautifully encapsulates the essence of solitude, growth, and connection with nature.
Hulu’s miniseries adaptation of “Little Fires Everywhere” debuted during the early stages of the 2020 lockdown due to COVID-19, and despite being nominated for several significant Emmys that autumn, the series has since grown hazy in my recollection. However, one detail that remains clear is that the casting crew discovered two young actresses, Jade Pettyjohn and Megan Stott, who strikingly resembled Reese Witherspoon when portraying her character’s daughters.
As I settled down to stream the Netflix drama “Penelope”, I was taken aback by a familiar face – Stott. It struck me instantly, especially since casting someone who closely resembles Reese Witherspoon for a series that feels like an eight-part young adult adaptation of “Wild” seems like a smart move. After all, it’s not every day you get to watch an actress who could easily be mistaken for Reese Witherspoon in a role tailored for such a production!
It’s likely not just by chance that Penelope was made. Mark Duplass, who appears alongside Witherspoon in The Morning Show, and Mel Eslyn, a former close collaborator of the late Lynn Shelton, who directed Little Fires Everywhere extensively, are the creators of Penelope.
But even if Duplass and Eslyn didn’t purposely seek out a juvenile Witherspoon, it was serendipity. Stott’s expressive features and ability to teeter between broad humor and grounded pathos anchor this mostly likable and mostly wholesome wilderness survival tale. I’m not quite sure who the target audience is, but maybe the show’s festival rollout at Sundance and SXSW reveals the answer: It’s a drama for the indie tween in your life, or possibly your own inner indie tween.
16-year-old Penelope starts off by joining a silent rave in a secluded camping ground, where everyone is dancing wearing their own headphones and moving within their personal spaces. The following day, Penelope decides to explore on her own, disregarding her mother’s repeated messages urging her to return home. She ventures into a nearby town and heads to the outdoor section of a warehouse store. Feeling drawn by an unseen spiritual force, Penelope gathers essential camping equipment and boards an open railway car destined for unknown locations, leaving behind a note of apology for her parents. She’s not feeling angry or sad, just yearning for something she can’t quite put into words.
Not far off, Penelope stealthily navigates towards a Northwestern national park without a valid camping permit. Subsequently, she covertly enters the park and decides to survive by utilizing the natural resources available.
Penelope’s true motivations unfold slowly and may not always be clear, but the story blends realistic scenarios with dreamlike, non-realistic elements. The main point is that Penelope has lost touch with her contemporary life and embarks on a solitary journey to discover her genuine self. Despite having minimal survival skills, she stumbles upon a useful Wilderness Survival Guide at a bookstore/coffee shop before entering the forest, which provides enough advice to keep her alive until she recovers her inherent strength. And Penelope is quite strong and resilient.
Just as Eslyn and Duplass likely didn’t choose their lead characters randomly, Penelope wasn’t given her name casually either. Penelope embarks on a personal journey that leads her to meet various people and creatures at an exact pace of one every 30-minute episode. She interacts with a somewhat pompous, yet mostly harmless, young coroner (Austin Abrams); a passionate, yet generally harmless, older environmental activist (Krisha Fairchild); and a group of peculiar, but mainly harmless, Catholic teenagers (including one portrayed by the rising star Rhenzy Feliz from “The Penguin”).
These individuals aid Penelope in grasping broader spiritual concepts. Implicitly, this knowledge conveys the idea that contemporary tech-reliant teens are disconnected from nature and consequently themselves, without explicitly stating it. Simultaneously, they provide someone for Penelope to converse with. It’s worth noting that Stott doesn’t strictly need companions. Occasionally, her scripts prompt her to speak to herself, and it’s important to know that she quickly communicates with trees, animals, and other natural elements. However, Stott is so open emotionally that her feelings, whether frustration or joy, are clearly conveyed without words. If there’s any uncertainty, the music by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, along with Julia Piker, expresses her emotions quite directly.
Two years back, I found myself immersed in Netflix’s survival drama “Keep Breathing,” starring the brilliant Melissa Barrera. It truly shone when it delved into the nitty-gritty of our protagonist crafting fires and foraging for food, but unfortunately, it got bogged down by an overcomplicated plot that failed to fully embrace its “My Side of the Mountain”/ “Hatchet” essence.
As a devoted admirer, I personally find that Into the Wild with a teenage girl as its protagonist is a compelling enough tale for me. The scenes where events unfold were, surprisingly, my least favorite. The more plot elements you introduce, the more the narrative seems to demand realism, and the harder it becomes for me to suspend disbelief. Yes, Penelope’s journey is meant to be literal, but when I’m forced to think too critically, thoughts like “Perhaps Penelope should reconsider accepting hospitality from that enigmatic young man,” or “Maybe Penelope shouldn’t try to befriend the bear cub,” or “If she’s spending under $500 on supplies, most of what she gets seems low quality and she suddenly has an abundance of clothing?” pop into my head. While Penelope‘s story isn’t so devoid of peril that it encourages many viewers to emulate her journey, it handles the tangible risks in a sanitized manner that doesn’t benefit from being highlighted.
Instead of the usual action-packed episodes, I’d prefer one where Penelope spends about 28 minutes trying to ignite a fire or working on an extensive construction project. In essence, I’m the kind of viewer who would have appreciated if Lost had been simply about a group of survivors trying to survive on a normal, monster-less island.
As a devoted admirer, I can’t help but appreciate Eslyn’s unapologetic guidance as she skillfully navigates viewers through an array of lengthy training sequences, allowing us to witness Penelope’s journey from setbacks to triumphs. Eslyn, along with cinematographer Nathan M. Miller, masterfully places Penelope amidst a lush, verdant canopy and merges breathtaking nature scenes with empowering pop-femininity in a swiftly evocative manner, fostering an immediate emotional bond. The series carries a slightly heartfelt, hastily penned poem vibe, adorned with a wildflower doodle – yet in the most delightful way!
Eslyn and Stott’s returns for Penelope may have peaked prematurely, with the final episodes feeling a bit hurried and generating questions that are better left unanswered compared to what the series was built to handle. I don’t necessarily need another season of Penelope, but perhaps an extra episode or two would have been just right.
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2024-09-24 02:55