Top of the Lake Season 1 Review

This review comes from my Letterboxd profile, where I review movies and limited series I watch.

I watched this show over the course of three days. The first two nights, I told myself I could push through this show and the way it was affecting me. I told myself I could handle myself when the finale ultimately came. Then the finale came... and I didn't. I became so openly wound up by the end of this show that I actually went as far as to punch the top of some furniture. I've never been this viscerally affected by a show. Never before has a show so wormed its way into my subconscious as to make me possibly physically repulsed by the events unfolding on the screen. Never before have I actually felt violated by a show. Top of the Lake executed its messages and plot points so perfectly it made me feel genuinely violated. After watching Broadchurch a few years ago, I didn't think there would be any competition for my personal favorite television show of all time. Top of the Lake might just be that competition, and if it isn't, it most definitely deserves to be in my top ten favorite shows, easily.

Throughout the mystery and drama elements of this seven-episode miniseries, the primary theme of the story is sexual trauma. It explores how characters are affected by sexually disturbing events and how it can completely change the way they look at the world. Throughout this entire show, girls as young as twelve will brandish guns in order to protect themselves from situations they completely perceive as dangerous. Throughout the entire show, you are forced to put yourself in shoes that some people have the fortune not to put themselves in -- the shoes of someone who is afraid of simply stepping out of their house afraid that they will be violated by someone stronger, more forceful, and more dangerous than them. The characters are so repulsive that I pretty much only liked the main character, Robin, and the young girl involved in the crux of the mystery, Tui, by the halfway mark of the first episode. During a moment of the third episode of this show with a moment involving someone standing in front of the main character in a private bathroom, I shook all over in a way that I never really had before. I associated that moment with an earlier character event that started in a similar way, much like women who have been sexually traumatized associate certain moments with another moment that is forced into their memories for the rest of their lives. That's the way this show makes you feel violated -- it puts those who have never had the misfortune of feeling unsafe of simply going out alone in those situations, forcing you to understand in a way you never thought you would be able to understand.

Elizabeth Moss absolutely deserves her Golden Globe win and frankly deserved an Emmy for this, too. She, along with every other actor in this show, is absolutely phenomenal, but special note should also be given to Peter Mullan, David Wenham, Tom Wright, Jacqueline Joe, and (in an appearance that's surreal to see in a New Zealand show) Holly Hunter for equally amazing performances. The writing constantly feels authentic despite how over-the-top pretty much every single character's personality is in this show. The direction is absolutely immaculate, with absolutely beautiful scenery and realistic, almost grimy character moments that feel intimate in the best of times and visceral in the worst of times. This show is not afraid to show its teeth and make characters make decisions that they might regret in the future. It's also not afraid to humanize every single person in this show, even the people you never in a million years thought a show like this would humanize. In the second episode alone, a character who is a convicted pedophile is given the chance to make his case, and while it's absolutely disturbing, it's incredible to me that the writers of this show had enough guts to give him that time to speak because it does ultimately tie into another basic idea of this series -- everyone has their own complicated reasons for making the decisions they do, even if those decisions are morally repugnant. I absolutely adore shows like this that explore the subconsciouses of every character and make these people feel human.

I honestly never thought that I would be so invested in a show that I would want to check out its follow-up season but also don't think I can handle watching it immediately after finishing the first one. This show genuinely affected me that much. Jane Campion and Gerard Lee have created an absolutely disturbing and affecting exploration of sexual trauma with this show, and their writing brings flawed characters to life in absolutely brilliant fashion through fantastic performances and realistic narrative beats that don't try and sensationalize the mystery aspect of the show. I mean, heck, there's barely any music in this show, and the majority of the music that is here is supplied by Georgi Kay, one of the actresses in this show. Beautiful scenery adds to the overall production value of this series, and the subject matter makes this show feel like something that writers wouldn't be able to get away with in this day and age but that is so, so, unendingly important. I can't recommend this show enough, but I also can't necessarily recommend this show to anyone suffering from anxiety or depression or anyone that is currently going through issues with their mental health. I haven't seen a show that's affected me that much in a long time, if ever. Top of the Lake is easily making my top ten favorite TV shows of all time at this point, and I think it's maybe the most important exploration in media of sexual trauma and assault of the 21st century, if not of all time. Good Lord, what a show.

Letter Grade: A+