A Review of Netflix’s The Sandman

Close your eyes and begin to dream. Dream of a world in which the Sandman reigns a kingdom that is as fantastical as it is beautiful. This is a world in which anything is possible, a world in which sand can create, an eyeless nightmare roams and the handyman is a pumpkin-headed scarecrow. Sweeping us through the fabric of the reality of the waking world and into the dreaming, Neil Gaiman’s Morpheus takes us on an eleven episode journey. We witness the dreams of cats, wait beside Dream to be freed and travel through worlds on quests. Yet, throughout this fast paced series, where a new story seems to begin before the last has ended and many episodes stand alone, the character of the Sandman and his faithful raven (albiet not the same raven throughout) remain constant.

I will be the first to admit that I had not come across Gaiman’s Sandman before I watched the Netflix series. As such, while I am aware that fans will have complaints regarding adaptation discrepancies, I am in no place to comment upon them. My interest is in the cinematography, the characters – the world which has so vividly captured my imagination.

Upon beginning watching the series, I feel that a viewer is swept spectacularly into Dream’s world. After the darkness of the waking world, the vivid colours and fantastical location of the dreaming seems to capture you. Those first moments are the perfect introduction to the world and some of the primary characters, which keep you watching despite the somewhat slow pace of the first episode. I feel that this pace does pick up through the series, thankfully, and that addictive initial reaction only wavers once. There is no need to specify which episode I am talking about, as I can imagine it is perfectly clear. However, just to be certain that we are on the same page (or in the same dream), let’s just say that David Thewlis’ performance of the complicated John Burgess was as convincingly complex as it was horrifically brutal. Gaiman has commented upon the importance of placing the episode with Death and Hob next and one can certainly see why. After the graphic displays of episode five (which I am not ashamed to admit that I skipped upon my second viewing), these sweet and healing connections are just enough to renew your faith in the series and convince you to carry on watching. We finally begin to see Morpheus shift in personality and his arc reaches a pivotal moment.

Speaking of the titular character, Tom Sturridge’s performance of the dream lord is by the far the most captivating of the series. Sturridge creates a vulnerable Morpheus whose character seems more often to have a tear in his eye than a smile on his face. Looking like a cross between a Tim Burton character, Robert Smith and a personification of a corvid, this Dr Martin wearing immortal is one that I feel instantly connects with audiences. There something enigmatic about the character, yet he is equally able to be harsh and tough when necessary. But, more important than discussing Morpheus’ voice, slightly moody demeaner, or success in every challenge he faces, the first episode must be touched upon. For the protagonist to spend their introductory episode in a glass cage never once speaking and barely moving is a bold choice. This could as easily have sealed the fate of the series in a negative way as a positive, but Sturridge clearly had the skill needed for this feat. Despite it all, viewers still create a connection with the silent Sandman, which is a testament to the power of simple movements and facial expressions. Needless to say, the actor has created a memorable character who viewers will come back to.

Of course, no character is alone and certainly not in a series that spans so many years. Matthew the raven deserves a passing mention, as does Lucien the librarian (who is arguably a lot more important than this title suggests). These two characters and the character of the world itself are those who stand out most and their interactions range from humorous to moving. Many of the characters make but a passing appearance, yet all are well performed and stand out for their originality within the world which has been created. Johanna Constantine is a perfect example of female strength, for this powerhouse of a character approaches the world with quite frankly an enviable boldness. Rose Walker is softer, less sure and yet equally powerful in her own way, while Death reminds us of the importance of love and compassion. Every viewer will have their own favourite minor characters; however, for me it is Matthew and Death who steal the show.

To say that actors alone carry the weight of a cinematic experience is far from true and the visual experience equally does not let the show down. From the worlds visited to battle between Morpheus and Lucifer, the art department have created a universe which is vivid and all encompassing. The skill of the crew of this show cannot be denied. This is a world which has drawn from the comics and endless possibilities of the imagination to create something that is visually surprising, slightly psychedelic and frankly stunning.

There is so much more that can be said about this series; however, suffice to say that it delivers both visually and emotionally. In regards to the pace, it is perhaps a little slow, but does not lose its audience and, personally, I could certainly have lived without the graphic diner scenes. Yet, despite any of its shortcomings, I still watched the whole series in two days and have since watched it again. Therefore, it is certainly crafted as carefully and skilfully as a dream.