What makes the series so powerful is that it doesn't just present another collection of stories where technology turns on us, but where we use technology to turn on -- or tune out -- each other.
There are times throughout all six episodes when it's easy to fear that Brooker's satire is only skin deep. But he and his collaborators have something to say about so many subjects besides technology.
When it's over, you'll need that TARDIS to transport you back to before you first heard about Black Mirror, so that each episode can surprise you all over again.
Smartly written and well cast, the individual episodes keep circling back to such apprehensions, with darkly satiric overtones that distinguish it from most of what's currently on U.S. TV.
For all the show's inventive storytelling, its true provocation is its righteous outrage, which shares something with Mike White's whistle-blower series Enlightened, although it's overlaid with a dark filter.
The six one-hour episodes, spread over two seasons, are cynical, searing, shockingly good -- and often disturbing. Watch this show, but don't binge-watch this show.
The genius of Black Mirror is how subtly it builds, keeping you from ever questioning the insanity of the premise or any minor plothole. Every twist seems organic, every decision rational.
