It’s been almost three years since storyteller Henry Bromell passed away. And three years is the time it took for his fellow writer Blake Masters to make the show they co-wrote together happen, with the help of producer Gale Anne Hurd, who was a fan of the project from the get go. It was too difficult to work on it right after the tragedy, but somehow they found the strenghth eventually and here we are. Next summer, Falling Water will be broadcasted alongside the sensational Mr Robot. And honestly, they couldn’t have found a better companion show. It takes the channel to yet another level. It is great and innovative television again, exploring something new. The mind-binding thriller intersects reality and unconscious thoughts while telling the story of three lonely souls. It’s compelling, poetic, deeply emotional, edgy. I could tell you not to miss it and just stop there. I’m not sure my words could make any justice to this incredible script. But I’m gonna try to give you a bit more informations about what’s to expect. So you can get excited for the right reasons.
“Do you ever think your dreams are trying to tell you something? What if our dreams held the secret key to life. What if you could control the world by controlling people’s dreams? ” That’s the whole idea, that’s the bold concept of Falling Water and the writers never shy away from it. They know where they’re going. You can label it as a supernatural thriller, or whatever. It doesn’t need any label. It’s just different and unique. It starts with Tess (Lizzie Brocheré), one of our three main characters, giving birth to a baby boy. Except it was all a dream. The baby doesn’t exist. She doesn’t have a son. Or does she? She’s convinced she did give birth to a child and she’s determined to understand what happened and to find him whatever it takes. Then there’s Burton (David Ajala), a man in his forties who sees the ghost of the woman he loved and lost everywhere in his apartment. He dreams about her. She’s just like the day she disappeared. The day she was kidnapped. Finally, there’s Taka (Will Yun Lee), an officer from NYPD who tries to connect with his mother who’s in a coma. He’s desperate and lonely. They are all lonely. In their respective dreams, there’s always a word, written on a wall, or on a napkin, wherever : Topeka. What does it mean? They all meet weird, mysterious people, who don’t seem to wish them well. Who are they? Are they part of Topeka?
Scene by scene, we go from one fancy restaurant to another luxurious hotel. Then we’re in a suburban neighborhood, or a police station, or a firm, or an empty room, or just a bed. It’s exactly the same atmosphere as in Mr Robot. It can be chilly, frightening, lifeless. It’s a dark vision of our world, not that far from what it really is. The way it’s described is already very cinematic on paper. Just like Mr Robot. We jump from one dream to another, and at some point we don’t know anymore if we’re in the middle of a dream or if it’s the reality. It’s disturbing and confusing and suffocating and it’s exciting for us. Is it all a lie? And yes, there’s falling water everywhere. Like a gimmick. Dripping. Raining. Pouring. On a faucet. On a fountain. On a window. But it surely means more than that. After all, there’s no life in this world without water…
So I’ll write it one more time and let you go: Falling Water is compelling, poetic, deeply emotional, edgy. It wouldn’t be fair just to compare it to Mr Robot. Or Sense8. It’s its own spectacular beast. It’s this kind of show you can’t watch just to spare time. It challenges you intellectually. And it rewards you. Or I guess it will.