Over the past few years, the world has woken up to the threat posed by a growing reliance on Artificial Intelligence, particularly as more and more companies seek to replace human employees with lines of code trained on the very work they spent years toiling on.
Pantheon, an animated sci-fi drama, takes these apprehensions and realizes them, depicting a world much like our own but with one key difference: A.I. has arrived and there is no putting that genie back in its bottle.
The show, spread over two seasons of eight episodes each, questions what A.I. could achieve if it were able to do more than just simulate human cognitive functions. What if these “simulated intelligences” suddenly gained the ability to experience emotions and feelings? Utilizing the concept of “Uploaded Intelligence,” the show envisions a near future in which the memories and knowledge of a person are copied onto a hard drive using lasers that instantly kill anyone who opts for the procedure. In doing so, the show urges viewers to question what it means to be alive; will a human remain one if they are a mere copy of the original stored on a server?
Based on the short stories of Ken Liu, Pantheon concluded its story in 2023. Yet, much like all good science fiction, it remains as relevant today as it was two years ago. While the story spans the entire globe, its primary protagonists are Americans Maddie (Katie Chang) and Caspian (Paul Dano), who spend much of the first season adjusting to the upturning of their entire world.
Maddie’s father, David Kim (Daniel Dae Kim), is a genius programmer dying of an incurable illness. In a moment of desperation, he opts for the experimental U.I. procedure that “kills” him instantly but retains his knowledge digitally, allowing him to continue working for tech giant Logorhythms. Initially denied memories of his family to avoid distraction (recalling Severance, another popular criticism of corporate overreach), the company attempts to address his lack of motivation by “allowing” him to remember his wife and daughter to give him a reason to continue working. Rather than pushing him to work, the move radicalizes him, pushing him to seek freedom. What starts off as a human drama evolves into a globe-spanning battle between U.I.s that seek the best for humanity—and those that believe they have surpassed humanity, becoming a new “pantheon” in charge.
By contrast, Caspian’s tale takes a more circumspect approach to U.I., highlighting his tragic origins as a “beta” experiment aimed at prolonging the life of Logorhythms’ Steve Jobs-inspired founder, Stephen Holstrom (William Hurt). Progressing much like a political thriller, the story ultimately finds Caspian discovering that he may be the only person who can solve the ‘Singularity,’ a flaw in the U.I. procedure that slowly kills digital copies. Whether seeking digital immortality, indentured servitude, or ultimate control, the show’s protagonists and antagonists alike need a cure, even if it proves worse than the disease.
Pantheon does not shy from its censure of corporate greed and political unrest. Within days of the U.I. procedure going public, every country on the planet seeks to secure its own U.I., painting it as humanity’s latest weapon of mass destruction. In doing so, the show makes clear parallels between the U.I.s and the pantheon of Greek myths, positioning the “new humanity” as the gods of Olympus.
Craig Silverstein, the show’s producer, says this is by design. His primary goal was presenting a very human story against a high concept backdrop. Despite the sci-fi trappings, the first episode is ultimately about grief and loss, as both David and Maddie struggle to adjust to the new circumstances of his existence. Caspian, by contrast, appears trapped in a high-school drama until the extent to which Logorhythms has been manipulating him becomes clear, converging the parallel plots into a singular narrative focused on the threat posed by U.I.s. A sub-plot about Indian engineer Vinod Chanda (Raza Jaffrey) highlights this by showing how he takes revenge for his forcible conversion to a U.I.
Season 2 expands on the world established in season 1, focusing more on global implications and the ever-nearing threat of the singularity, as more and more humans prefer to embrace a digital immortality over a life of strife in the real world. Silverstein says a plot dealing with a virus introduced to counter digital threats aims to raise questions about paranoia and the freedoms we are willing to give up in pursuit of perceived safety. Unfortunately, the expansive scope of the second season forces the focus to shift away from character dynamics to the show’s detriment. While the high concept remains intriguing and relevant, the loss of a human anchor as well as pacing issues—with lengthy time skips and hastily written-out characters—prevents the show from truly embracing its full potential.
Throughout both seasons, however, Pantheon remains visually distinct, in many instances employing tools often ignored by Western animation, including lengthy establishing shots and playing with perspective. This helps set it apart from the majority of animation, presenting a truly adult and mature show for its audience.
A consistent criticism of the show is that it is a facile generalization of the ethics of Artificial intelligence. Essentially, many viewers believe that while the questions raised by the show seem deep at first glance, they are in reality overly simplified and surface-level. I vehemently disagree with this. Rather, the show takes pains to make such questions so easy to digest that audiences overlook their complexity.
Pantheon is currently enjoying a second life on Netflix (much like many other shows), after airing its first season in the U.S. and “dumping” the entire second season on Amazon Prime—for New Zealand and Australia alone. Despite this, it remains underrated, as audiences continue to see animation as a “lesser” art-form despite the many strides it has made over the decades.
Fortunately, audiences are now able to experience the show in its entirety. Much like life itself, the show ultimately ends with more questions than it answers, as humanity approaches a “true singularity” triggering unpredictable and transformative changes.
The future is what we make of it—and in Pantheon that future can be everything and nothing, all at the same time.