CW |
The 100 is uneven, eye-rolling and yet, at times perplexedly moving. Its strongest moments are those that flirt with the edges of deeper truths, especially those that revolve around a dominant theme exploring the temptation to act on self interest in environments that beg us to give into a “survival of the fittest” worldview. I am particularly intrigued with the way the series explores the unbinding and unwinding power of sacrifice as way to navigate through that challenge.
The 100 is set about a century after a nuclear war on Earth. The only survivors were 400 inhabitants of 12 space stations in
orbit. The 12 stations linked and reformed into one station called the Ark, and
three generations later, they now number 4,000. With limited and dwindling
resources, the leaders of the Ark enforce harsh measures—like population
control and capital punishment for even minor crimes—to ensure humanity’s
survival.
When chief engineer Jake Griffin
discovers that Ark’s life support systems are critically failing, he wants to
tell the rest of the population, believing the Ark community had the ability to
make a decision together that would be best for all. The Council, fearing riots
and chaos, execute him and imprison his teenage daughter, Clarke, to keep her
quiet.
As they grow more desperate to
reduce population and preserve humanity, the leaders send a group of 100
juvenile prisoners (most ranging from pre-teen to 17) to Earth’s surface to see
if it’s habitable. Among them is Clarke, whose mother (the Ark’s chief medical
officer) finds herself increasingly at odds with the rest of the leadership as they
wrestle with how to prevent the extinction of the human race.
One of the strengths of the
series is the parallel explorations of the best and worst in humanity in both
the youth and the adults. The adult leaders on the Ark exhibit conflicting
instincts and approaches. Some push for utilitarian solutions; some, who don’t
agree with those solutions but give into them seeing no other choice, are eaten
away by guilt; and others, like Clarke’s father, risk (and sacrifice) their
lives to find alternatives. On the earth’s surface, the 100 give us a more literal version of the adult struggles, vacillating between a Lord of the Flies survival-of-the-fittest
and acts of self-sacrifice and compassion.
Kane (CW) |
But a greater strength of the
series—or at least one most interesting to me—is its emerging theme of the power
of self-sacrifice as a way to confront, navigate through, and even diffuse
situations of violence, coercion and deception.
In “Twilight’s Last Gleaming,” the leadership of the space station must finally make a decision about what to do about the dwindling air supply. Not knowing that the Earth is safe, Councilman Kane urges the Council to act on a secret plan to seal off a section of the space station and leak a sleeping agent into the air supply in order to euthanize over 300 of the population and buy more time for the remaining people.
In “Twilight’s Last Gleaming,” the leadership of the space station must finally make a decision about what to do about the dwindling air supply. Not knowing that the Earth is safe, Councilman Kane urges the Council to act on a secret plan to seal off a section of the space station and leak a sleeping agent into the air supply in order to euthanize over 300 of the population and buy more time for the remaining people.
In desperation, Jake’s widow,
Abigail, leaks a video he’d recorded informing the population of the problem
and his confidence that they could work and pull together to solve their
problem. To the rest of the leadership’s surprise, instead of rioting, far more
than is needed of station’s population volunteer to sacrifice their
own lives for their spouses, children and the rest of the Ark's population.
Admonished and overwhelmed by guilt, Chancellor Jaha wants
to join them. Against his own best interests, Kane (who’s been after the
Chancellor’s position from the beginning), urges him to stay, confessing that Jaha
can inspire the people to pull together, something they need in order to
survive.
Three hundred volunteers—fathers,
mothers, individuals, couples, husbands, wives—bravely and resolutely enter a
chamber and sit on the floor, slowly falling asleep as the air supply eventually
is cut off to the section. It is a moving scene, driving home the tidal power
of self-sacrifice to unravel deception, coercion and self-interest and move and
inspire others to act in the best interest of others.
That episode gets at a deeper truth in our own experience—and
in our larger Story. I don't know if the writers knew that episode
would air during Holy Week when they wrote it, but I couldn’t help but think of
how it echoed the self-sacrifice of a God who is desperate to save us in our Story.
The theme resurfaces even
more boldly in “Contents Under Pressure.” One of the Grounders (a group of
people who survived the Earth’s holocaust but appear to live in brutal and
tribal groups) saves Octavia’s life when she falls down a ravine, but keeps her
captive to protect her from the rest of the Grounders. Even though Octavia begs
her brother Bellamy and others not to harm the Grounder when they rescue her, Bellamy
orders him killed. When the Grounder fights back, Jasper—for whom Clark has
deep feelings—is wounded by the Grounder’s poisoned blade.
Bellamy strings up the
Grounder in a crucifix-like position and wants to torture him for information. Clarke, who has repeatedly pleaded with the
rest of the 100 to stop making violent choices because “this is not who we are,”
not only doesn’t argue against Bellamy’s choice, but literally gives her assent because she wants to know the antidote to save Jasper. When beating the Grounder fails to make him talk, Bellamy drives a spike through the Grounder’s bound hand.
Octavia and Bellamy (CW) |
Clarke (CW) |
As in our own world, choosing
to act in the best interest of another and doing the right thing doesn’t always
end well. In The 100, Clarke’s father
was sent out an airlock for his risk. Wells, another character who made sacrificial
choices, is senselessly killed early on in the series. The Grounder is still a
prisoner. But these acts of self-sacrifice consistently work to convict,
admonish and dismantle self-interested utilitarian actions, soften hardened hearts, and lead to
reconciliation, transformation and healing. Jake’s sacrifice inspires 300 others
to sacrifice their lives, and their sacrifice causes a deepening crisis of
conscience in Kane, who by the end of “Contents Under Pressure” is reexamining his actions and confesses to
his mother that “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Consistently in this
series, acts of self-sacrifice offer a new way to face life and interact with
others, both for the one who is sacrificing and those who witness it. In spite
of continual challenges and pressures, ways of coercion, power and fear give way to trust and reconciliation.
Deception is dismantled. Hearts are softened. Lives and hearts change.
This echoes our own Story.
Jesus calls his followers to a new way of life. He calls us into a new Kingdom
ruled by a King who is sacrificial love.
This is the way he has chosen to work in his mission to restore and redeem a
broken world and people. If we walk with and live in trust of him, we find that
he has joined us to that mission—a mission in which we chose a way of love-drenched
self-sacrifice in submission to a Lord of love over the way of fear, coercion
and power. When we do that, we see over and over the dismantling of deception,
the diffusion of violence, the restoring of the broken, reconciliation of
enemies, and the changing of lives. As in The
100, that doesn’t mean we’ll come through unscathed; it may even cost us
our lives. But we know that this is the best and most powerful way. We know
because we know the end of our Story: love wins.
But we don’t know how The 100 will end; that story is only
beginning. When Clarke reflects on and
questions their actions at the end of “Contents Under Pressure,” Bellamy tells her that “who we are and who we need to
be to survive are very different things.” And while they now know Earth is
now habitable, the leaders on the Ark face the reality that they don’t have enough
transport ships to get everyone onto the ground. “We are on the Titanic and we
don’t have enough lifeboats,” the Chancellor tells the other leaders. The screws
are tightening, and we can already see new deceptions winding their way in to
replace the old ones.
This show has potential.
Just as I roll my eyes, it has a moment that makes me take notice. If the
series can develop a little more evenness in its characters and writing, I wouldn't mind sticking with The 100 for the long haul. In fact, I'd look forward to it.