WatchingKaleidoscope, Netflix’s heist thriller starring Giancarlo Esposito (The Mandalorian), is somewhat reminiscent of the streamer’sBlack Mirror: Bandersnatch(2018) experiment.Bandersnatchwas much more interactive — a very meta choose-your-own-adventure story with branching, video game-lite dialogue trees that landed the player/viewer in different endings. Still,Kaleidoscopeinvites viewers to be part of the experience, too.
The directive?You choose the viewing orderfor the show’s eight episodes, all of which are titled after a color. Yes, this element of choice is much more limited in scope thanBandersnatchor other interactive narratives Netflix has taken a stab at in the past. But in the age of marathoning seasons of shows in one or two sittings, this shakes things up a bit. At least on the surface.
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To be clear,Kaleidoscopeisn’tthe height of scripted programmingby any means. Aside from some committed performances and a bit of stylistic flair, its strength lies in the possibility of watching the episodes in any order. No matter the viewing order, streamers will come away with a complete narrative, though the emotional beats will land differently based on the sequence of events they chose. How the story is told, and the structure of that story, are interrogated here, and that produces some interesting results.
However,Kaleidoscope’smost pronounced strength is also its greatest weakness. By nature, each episode is fairly standalone. Sure, some things will make more sense with additional context from other episodes, but it’s noMemento(2000) orPulp Fiction(1994). In this way, the episodes all feel incredibly contained — almost hollow. There’s no sense of the story bleeding out from the edges of one chapter into others. It’s almost too neat and tidy.
A kaleidoscope is ordered chaos, of course, but the show doesn’t have the energy or substance to feel all that satisfying. For example,Esposito’s off-camera narration opens and closes most episodes, but, inherently, that narration has to be generic and vague, referencing broad themes without getting into the specifics.
Once this broadness becomes apparent, it will color the show. The formula of each episode becomes obvious. The artist’s hand is visible, so to speak. Without a doubt, all of this is much more glaring ifKaleidoscopeis watched in chronological order. Viewed that way — as an unbroken timeline of seen-this-before events — the heist thriller becomes less interesting. There’s a traumatic loss, the drive of revenge, the whole “just one more job” of it all — yes, the series reallyputs the “genre” in generic. And while there’s nothing wrong with that — tropes are tropes for a reason, after all — it makes the whole concept ofKaleidoscopefeel like a gimmick.
Much likeBandersnatch,Kaleidoscopereveals the limitations of viewer interactivity when it comes to film and television narratives. As mentioned, all eight episodes of the show can be watched in any order. An introductory video, titled “Black”, explainsKaleidoscope’s concept, and notes that “White” is intended toalwaysbe the finale episode. Therein lies the perfect encapsulation of the series’ problem: it isn’t completely free-flowing and moveable.
If viewers watch all the episodes, including “White,” in any order that equates to 40,320 possible viewing orders. However, if viewers followNetflix’s (and, seemingly, the creator’s) directive and watch the first seven episodes in any order with “White” as the finale, that cuts the possible permutations drastically. Viewed with this rule in mind, there would be “just” 5,040 viewing orders. That’s still a fair amount of variety, but the numbers really underscore the core issue here.
Viewers are trained to take in stories in a particular way. Ifthe ending isn’t big— either action-wise or emotions-wise — the entire story feels like a letdown. That’s particularly true when it comes to action and thriller narratives. Fans want that bombastic final act. They want the build-up to pay off. It’s no surprise that Netflix wanted to get ahead of that problem, but instructing viewers to play “White” last undermines the very concept of the show.
It reminds viewers that the achronological viewing options are more flashy novelty than meaningful structural twists on a traditional heist-meets-revenge narrative. The series isn’t actually turning anything on its head or subverting tropes, a laRian Johnson’sGlass Onion: A Knives Out Story(2022).
A kaleidoscope’s mirrors, plates, and fragments of color all shift depending on point of view. When a viewer shifts the position of a kaleidoscope’s components, they’re reflected in a seemingly endless variety. But the Netflix series doesn’t quite bring its namesake to life through itsinteractive gimmick. Sure, the gimmick is changing our position to the episode-fractals that make up the series’ larger story. But, as a chronological viewing experience bluntly illustrates, the sum ofKaleidoscope’s parts add up to a disappointingly boring whole.
