Speaking of, Orphan Black doesn’t really care whether you understand what’s going on or not, as it presents a season three opener that’s basically a middle-finger to newcomers, using clone-speak as often as possible (“monitor,” previously mentioned Projects Leda and Castor) with nary a pause to explain it all. It’s a ballsy approach to be sure, but also refreshingly sure-footed. Too many shows nowadays recap not only the events of the last few episodes, but the basic building blocks of the series’ entire premise. You either know what the difference between a Prolethean and a Neolutionist is on this show, or you don’t.
It all builds to the premiere’s big set-piece moment, which sees Maslany slipping into one of her sister’s personas to keep a terrible secret from the treacherous “Topside.” The scene’s twists and turns swirl down a road of deliciously entertaining threats and bravura how-the-hell-did-they-do-that CGI, a microcosm of the show’s endearing multiple personality disorder as Maslany – essentially a living, breathing Matryoshka doll – battles not only herself but the show’s topsy-turvy tone shifts. It’s thrilling television, pure and simple.
That being said, problems still remain, of course, mainly in the show’s here-and-now world-building. I praised Orphan Black‘s mythology earlier, because it’s fascinatingly presented, but the show’s always stuttered in actually presenting present reparations of that dense back story in current story lines. It’s always just out of reach to the viewer, dancing in the periphery of scenes and dialogue, and has yet to be really solidified in the world. The premiere of season three hints at more satisfactory world building, especially concerning Topside and the mysterious “Helsinki,” which is presented and explained within twenty minutes, but with nine episodes to go in the season it’s impossible to yet know for sure.
But that doesn’t really matter, especially to the show’s hardcore fan-base, who are already well-trained in Orphan Black‘s steep learning curve and somewhat convoluted plots. It’s a weird, contradictory show, for sure, one that makes me question why I even like it after every episode. It’s dense, but never boring (slick production values no doubt helping there). It can ramble, but always feels laser-focused. Its central character roster grows to rival Game of Thrones each season, and yet it still feels intimate. For a show with so many moving parts and identities and back-stories and mythologies, it’s uncommonly legible. Making something so bizarre to a layman become so much second nature to its viewers is a feat of which most shows can only dream. Orphan Black does it in its sleep.
