The Lottery: Dystopian? Not so much as it is “dys-dopeyian”

There’s nothing like a good old fashioned science fiction tale of a not-too-distant dystopian future to get the juices flowing. (I have leanings toward hopeless, oppressive, dire story lines. Some might consider it more a curse than anything else.)

News Flash (or “spoiler” if you haven’t watched the premiere yet): Those juices won’t be flowing courtesy of The Lottery.

So what kind of future is played out in this new sci-fi series? Well, a rather wishy-washy, trope-filled one if the first episode has anything to do with it.

Some dystopian futures? They don’t translate into standards we readily understand. Their ideologies can often be so over the top in approach or function we lose out on any sort of correlation. Our everyday applications don’t jive with what we see. In other instances they go even further — they’re so foreign or left-of-center we can’t begin to wrap our heads around them. They completely alienate us. Result? Zero audience engagement. You don’t want that.

What you want is something that’s going to grab you from the get-go. And that’s exactly what happens in The Lottery. You are immediately drawn in by the opening introductory statements:

2016: The last kindergarten closed its doors because there were no more births.
2019: The last 6 births in the country were recorded. Infertility is global.
It’s now 2025.You’re engaged, right? Yep, you are.

The Lottery bills itself as dystopian (often characterized by human misery, oppression, disease, overcrowding) but this future isn’t any of those things. It’s just got one big, fat, 800 pound gorilla of a problem: Human extinction due to world-wide infertility. And, though it stretches the definition of dystopian, I’m still okay with it.

But … just when you settle in to see what unfolds? That’s the moment things begin sliding southward.

Story-wise things seem to move in the right direction at the start — women are continually tested for viability, men are urged to “donate” (the bikini-clad Uncle Sam print campaigns are a nice touch) and the sense of urgency feels desperate and real. But the players in the game and the situations they inhabit are ludicrous. They pull you in directions (I’d like to think) the producers don’t want you treading. You want to feel this world is possible and realistic but, instead, you’re led along a path of skepticism and unbelievability.

The biggest culprit is the very person working for the hope of all mankind: Dr. Alison Lennon (Marley Shelton). She might be a brilliant and dedicated scientist, her efforts (and that of her staff) may have finally come up with viable human embryos but her actions outside the workplace shout otherwise. Patronizing a bar in order to scope out the best possible (translation: potent) males to “get the job done” (translation: propagate)? Talk about irresponsibility personified. Stupidly pilfering a colleague’s passkey to get back into the facility she just got fired from? It’s a plan that comes right out of “Dumb Criminals Handbook.” Swiping human embryos she herself worked on after things go sour? Think about it: Who are the most likely suspects to get a finger pointed at them given a secure facility charged with saving the human race from extinction? Duh. The employees of said facility, the only people who know what the hell they’re doing and where said embryos are stored. *sigh*

U.S. President Thomas Westwood (Yul Vázquez) is no better. “Hey! Let’s have a cabinet meeting to determine the fate of the human race now that a possible solution to mankind’s existence is within reach!” << BOOM >> Done. (But … with a mere three members of his staff? Really?) “Hey! Let’s throw all logic out the window and jump head first into a lottery system for nurturing those usable human eggs! What a great ‘let’s-rally-the-nation’ call to action!” << BOOM >> Done. (Not that re-election considerations have anything to do with it. Let’s see: Fate of the world? Another four years in office? No conflict of interest there, nope. ) “Hey! Let’s put out an announcement about this lottery thing! What? You mean … right now? Sure! Let’s do it!” << BOOM >> Done.  (Because possession is nine tenths of the law. Screw the women whose eggs those are! They’re not the best candidates for maturation or saving our sorry asses! And, while we’re at it, screw the rest of the world! We got ‘em! We’ll do whatever the hell we please with ‘em!)

(Understand: I’m not so much against the concept of the show’s lottery as I am with the path leading to it. The best descriptor of what takes place would be “doofus.”)

But wait! There’s more!

Let’s throw in a seemingly attentive father (Michael Graziadei, American Horror Story, Grimm) who has one of the last kids on Earth. And let’s write in his proclivity to earn money by sleeping with every Tomasina, Dianne and Mary willing to get jiggy with him because, you know, he’s proven himself as one of the last virile men on the planet. << BOOM >> Done.

U. S. Chief Of Staff Vanessa Keller (Athena Karkanis)? Let’s mix it up and give her an unscrupulous brother whose only aim is to make a quick buck dealing counterfeit fertility drugs. Oh … and make him a complete douche bag, too. << BOOM >> Done.

*sigh*

There’s plenty more where those came from, too. Gads of television tropes you’ve seen time and again. Tune in and keep count if you can.

And there you go … a taste of The Lottery. More “dys-dopeyian” than dystopian if you ask me.

The $10,000 question is where do you go with it? I plan on setting my furrowed brow to neutral and playing out a few more episodes to see how it plays out short term. You can judge a show from the start — if it intrigues you, great. But if it starts-stops-fumbles out the gate with the silly things listed above, a concentrated effort is going to be needed to stick around in the hope it will improve.

Me? I’ll role the dice and take that chance. What’s life all about (or television, for that matter) if you don’t take a few chances every now and again?