Review of Netflix’s The Sandman: The Power of Story
Netflix’s “The Sandman” is a dark fantasy series adapted from the cult-hit graphic novel written by Neil Gaiman and published by DC Comics’s Vertigo from 1989 to 1996.
I read the graphic novel in secondary school and was taken in by the vastness of Gaiman’s vision in upending various comic and literary genres to tell a metafiction of myths, legends and fictions. Gaiman drew from the Bible (Lucifer, Cain & Abel and God’s angels make significant appearances in the series), Greek and Norse myths, European, Asian and Islamic folk-tales, as well as Shakespeare, Dante, Blake, Milton and the likes.
What binds it all together is the central figure of Dream, also known as Morpheus (the Greek god of dreams), The Sandman (based on E. T. A. Hoffmann’s 1816 short story of that name), Oneiros and the Dream King. Dream is the anthropomorphic personification of dreams itself. He is one of seven siblings known as The Endless–Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction (who went missing), Desire and Despair (who are twins), and Delirium (who used to be Delight)–who existed since the beginning of time.
In the graphic novel, Gaiman uses Dream’s story to explore the power of dreams and story, both its positive and negative effects on humanity, and also as a way to explore literary creation and construction.
Dream is portrayed as initially a brooding and heartless god-like character. Over the course of the narrative, and as Dream works through various struggles, Dream becomes more human. It culminates in an existential choice he makes at the end, which arises because his very nature and purpose is challenged: if dreams are nothing but ‘human’, then what good are they? In this sense, Dream is not a lord over humanity but a very concept which exists because of humanity and serves humanity to give hope in despair, confront fears, and hold up a mirror for critical self-reflection. At the same time, the boundary between dream and reality is portrayed as a fine one, which if broken could lead to torturous ends as much as the invitation is superficially profitable. A pervasive question it raises is thus: what do our stories reveal about us? Much academic dissertations and non-academic analyses have been written over The Sandman, so I will not go further, and the reader is invited to look those up.
The Netflix adaptation explores these themes and attempts to visually translate much of the aesthetic, mood and even significant frames onto the screen. It bears noting that the graphic novel took on many different genres and styles across its entire run, and this is also reflected in some of the different variations in styles in certain episodes in the first season. There are dark fantasy and horror elements as well as sex and violence, which made it rightly classified as R-21. The graphic novel was progressive for its time, and among other things, had a feminist bent, which in the adaptation continues in spirit with certain gender and ethnic changes in key characters. The storytelling in the screen adaptation is also sequenced differently and that may be easier for those who have never read the graphic novel to follow.
Overall, the Netflix adaptation does a good job of bringing the stories to life, with sharp performances by the actors, and excellent visuals and design across set, costumes and film work. The pacing of the show is not quite what the modern screen viewer might be used to. Some viewers might also find that the narrative does not hit the high and low notes within the arc of the season which they may be used to of modern television drama, but this is likely deliberate to embody the spirit of the graphic novel. It bears noting that the first season basically combines the first two books of the graphic novels Preludes & Nocturnes, and The Doll’s House. Hence, one may feel that it is in fact two story arcs in one season.
I think it would be fair to say that the Netflix production is a great invitation for viewers to dive into the graphic novels. The two media works very differently, and there will be richer and greater enjoyment and reflection in dreaming with both.