This review may contain spoilers
What could have been
4 Minutes was a missed opportunity on so many levels. The premise that the 4 minutes after a person’s heart has stopped beating, when they are in a state of hypoxia, events from their life will play out in their consciousness was novel. Back when the author of the series was announced as Sammon, a medical doctor, I knew that 4 minutes referred to that brief few minutes between life and death, if the victim is not revived.
At first, the viewer is not aware of what the 4 minutes signifies. Instead, the tendency is to take Great’s explanation at face value, that at times he can see 4 minutes into the future and has a chance to make different choices. For the first few episodes, everything is grounded in this point of view. But gradually the viewer becomes confused about what has happened and is happening. Clearly, everything we are seeing cannot all be reality. More and more contradictions creep in to the story line. We see events that don’t involve Great at all, and then variations of those same events. Whose reality, or 4 minutes are we witnessing? Sometimes we never find out.
Basically, the entire plot is constructed on the premise of reliving choices and potentially choosing differently a second or even third time. All of this takes place in a hypopoxic state, but whose? So many possibilities are thrown at the viewer that at times we aren’t sure what is real and what is imagined. That might have been interesting to explore, but the script never tackles the fundamental question, What is consciousness, what is reality? Instead, we get a repetitive muddle of a plot laced with soft core porn scenes, graphic violence, and individuals you wouldn’t want to meet in real life. By episode 8, I was repelled by all but two of the main characters (and I was certainly no fan of Great and Tyme by then). I especially take exception with serious actors being required to act in soft core porn scenes that do nothing to advance either plot or character development. A less explicit scene could have communicated what was needed. Instead, in these scenes the actors are presented exclusively as sexualized bodies engaged in explicit coupling solely for the titillation of the viewer. The CEO of Be On Cloud is credited as the Intimacy Director,, so the decision to treat his actors in this way was definitely his. How can an actor say “no” to the CEO when called upon to film such scenes and not lose his job? It smacked of exploitation and this did not sit well with me.
At first, the viewer is not aware of what the 4 minutes signifies. Instead, the tendency is to take Great’s explanation at face value, that at times he can see 4 minutes into the future and has a chance to make different choices. For the first few episodes, everything is grounded in this point of view. But gradually the viewer becomes confused about what has happened and is happening. Clearly, everything we are seeing cannot all be reality. More and more contradictions creep in to the story line. We see events that don’t involve Great at all, and then variations of those same events. Whose reality, or 4 minutes are we witnessing? Sometimes we never find out.
Basically, the entire plot is constructed on the premise of reliving choices and potentially choosing differently a second or even third time. All of this takes place in a hypopoxic state, but whose? So many possibilities are thrown at the viewer that at times we aren’t sure what is real and what is imagined. That might have been interesting to explore, but the script never tackles the fundamental question, What is consciousness, what is reality? Instead, we get a repetitive muddle of a plot laced with soft core porn scenes, graphic violence, and individuals you wouldn’t want to meet in real life. By episode 8, I was repelled by all but two of the main characters (and I was certainly no fan of Great and Tyme by then). I especially take exception with serious actors being required to act in soft core porn scenes that do nothing to advance either plot or character development. A less explicit scene could have communicated what was needed. Instead, in these scenes the actors are presented exclusively as sexualized bodies engaged in explicit coupling solely for the titillation of the viewer. The CEO of Be On Cloud is credited as the Intimacy Director,, so the decision to treat his actors in this way was definitely his. How can an actor say “no” to the CEO when called upon to film such scenes and not lose his job? It smacked of exploitation and this did not sit well with me.
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