Tales from the Loop
Depending on where in the world you are, you might be sliding into the point in self-isolation where boredom and restlessness are creating more angst than the thought of catching the Coronavirus. You can’t sit still, you can’t focus, but there’s nothing to do. Or else all you want to do is sit still but there’s way too much to do. Can I make a soothing recommendation?
First of all, you’re going to need an Amazon Prime account, if you don’t already have one. And if you don’t, they offer a free 30 day trial which you can grab by clicking here. They have a wide variety of original content and this pandemic isn’t going anywhere soon, so treat yourself!
Second, you’re going to want to put on something cozy (as if you’re not already wearing sweats/yoga pants/pajamas), dim the lights or pull the shades, grab a mug of tea and your quarantine buddy, and then begin the wondrous, gorgeous journey to a small fictional town in Ohio, circa the early 1980’s.
Tales from the Loop is an eight episode show based on the artwork of Swedish artist Simon Stålenhag. It has a science fiction slant to it, but it’s not the centerpiece of the story. Yes, it’s mysterious, but it’s nothing like Stranger Things. Each episode could easily stand alone, but together they make something expansive and whole.
The setting is gorgeous, and every shot lingers just enough to let you immerse yourself in the beauty on screen while your blood pressure comes down a bit. The pace is slow and dreamy, rather than slow and dragging, and it makes a timely counterpoint to the news alerts and headlines and frantic tedium we’re currently living through.
What I appreciated most about the show in this particular season, is that it subtly highlights the loneliness and isolation which is part of the human condition, even before the world closed down for Coronavirus. This town we get to visit is casually overflowing with technology, but none of it has brought anyone closer. We see the poignant yearning for connection in each episode. Yes it’s melancholy. You’ll laugh once or twice and if you’re like me, you might cry. But it offers no easy solutions, it just sits with you as it finds you.
In December I lost my mother and started a new grieving process different than the one I’d been in for years as her health declined and her memory left. So often in movies and television everything ends with a miraculous twist, a deus ex machina that swoops in and rights everything. As my mother slipped away, I didn’t know whether to pray for her to be miraculously restored to us or for the grace and mercy of a quick and painless (for her) end to the struggle.
In Tales from the Loop, a character learns a loved one may not be long for this world, and they try to do everything they can to stop what has been put in motion. Science, prayer, mysticism, optimism, you name it. As an audience member, you root for them to pull through, you expect it because that’s what we are trained for. But instead of a shallow, typical Hollywood ending, we are gifted with a story which reflects what is needed more than a quick fix… the hard work of going through something difficult instead of skipping over, going around, or denying it completely.
So it is with this current season, all around the world. We can’t rush this, as much as we wish to fast-forward right through to better times. We don’t have a road map or easy answers. We do have each other. And hopefully the technology we have access to right now will work toward decreasing our isolation instead of increasing the distance between us.
So please go watch Tales from the Loop, but then be sure to reach out to the people you’re missing. One thing we’re learning from the Coronavirus is we might not get the chance to say goodbye to people we love, to let our friends and family know how much we care for them. By all means, don’t keep that to yourself! And then, go ahead and sit a moment with your feelings instead of drowning them out with snacks or drink or whatever else you use to distract yourself right now from the hard work of actually getting through this. I’m practicing this (very slowly) and it’s no fun, but it’s so necessary.
You are not alone. We’ll get through this. Together.
This post is not sponsored, but may contain affiliate links. There is no extra cost to you, but I may earn a small commission. Please note that I never recommend, write about, or link to anything I don’t enthusiastically use myself. Thank you for your support!