Jeremiah

J. Michael Straczynski of Babylon 5 ends up in my good books once again with a far darker series, the post-apocalyptic Jeremiah.

Jeremiah follows...well...Jeremiah (Luke Perry of 90120 fame), a roughly thirty-something year old man who has grown up in a world ravaged by the "Big Death", a mysterious, possibly human-engineered disease that fifteen years ago eradicated all people "over the age of innocence" (above puberty).  Jeremiah is searching for his father, whom he is convinced is alive, recalling a memory where the words "Valhalla Sector" are spoken.  During his travels, Jeremiah runs into Kurdy (Malcolm-Jamal Warner), another loner, and together the two of them team up and discover abandoned military complexes, religious cults and neo-nazis, all while trying to ease the ills of a world beset by starvation, ignorance and paranoia.





Post-apocalyptic series, books and films are commonplace in mainstream media right now:  The Walking Dead, The Hunger Games and The Road just to name a few.  Jeremiah would probably have been more successful if it had come out just a little later, when the economic climate created a general public malaise and dissatisfaction that still hasn't abated.  As it was, its short-lived run from 2002-2004 still made for very compelling television.

I get the feeling that many writers, especially Hollywood writers, think that post-apocalyptic fiction is easy to write:  just kill most everyone through disease / meteor / zombies / whatever, show dirty people doing dirty things and the rest will take care of itself (this mistaken belief, by the by, has led to some AWFUL, AWFUL writing).  The truth is that successful, engaging explorations into this subgenre require a delicate balance of character.  That balance is most important when showing how far out of their way the characters will go to help people.



Jeremiah and Kurdy each have their limits, though Kurdy's tend to be more restrictive (unless a pretty face is involved).  Jeremiah, on the other hand, can be a bit idealistic at times, though he too has a breaking point where enough is enough.  In one instance, after a group of bandits murders a mentally challenged young man that Jeremiah and Kurdy had befriended, Jeremiah just straight up goes back to the bandit camp and kills every last one of them with a baseball bat. 

It's that kind of sudden, explosive violence that needs to be counterweighted by moments of sincerity, otherwise the characters are unsympathetic.  Jeremiah pulls this off quite nicely.  We understand that the reason Jeremiah and Kurdy are the way they are is because they have been driven to extremes by the world around them.  It's established that they are tough first, kind second, because anything else would get them killed.



There's also a constant reminder that nobody knows for sure that the disease has run its course.  One female town leader, Theo, points out that puberty for males is a bit vague, whereas with the girls of the world, "they knew right away."  These are children who have grown up in a world of fear.

That premise is another great driving force for the series' success in storytelling.  The idea of a world of children creating their own society feels like Lord of the Flies on a global scale, and the results vary from amusing to downright terrifying.  There are communities where bits and pieces of myths have mingled with modern day technology, forming new religions.  There are also people who have clearly been damaged emotionally in possession of horribly destructive weaponry.  The episode "And the Ground, Sown with Salt..." brought Luke Perry's old co-star Jason Priestly into the frightening role of Michael, a paramilitary psychopath in possession of dozens of "daisy cutter" bombs.

What makes Michael scary is the idea that he really is a boy inside, and that his lack of normal emotional development is what has led him to this point.  The world of Jeremiah could potentially be full of such individuals.

Contrasting that, there is also a childlike innocence to be found in many characters.  Kurdy meets a bar owner who collects hundred dollar bills, "just in case the government comes back."  It's amusing, but it's also poignant:  when the world ends, how desperately will we cling to institutions that no longer exist?  How many of these children, at the time the Big Death swept over the land, clung to the hope that somewhere, somehow, there would be an adult to tell them what to do?  Ultimately, they are forced to fend for themselves.  Jeremiah shows us the results, and they are riveting to watch.