Pluribus Series One: A Chilling Sci-Fi Standout

Attempting to sum up Pluribus in a few lines, one might be reminded of classic tales like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The opening episode certainly nods to familiar anxieties surrounding alien infiltration, yet it’s clear that Vince Gilligan, the show’s creator, is intent on steering the story into far stranger territory. The most recent instalment, complete with a surprising cameo, demonstrates that Pluribus is anything but formulaic.

The debut episode leans heavily into body horror, with victims writhing violently as the infection takes hold—many do not survive. Over 800 million perish, including Helen, the partner of our protagonist, Carol, who is powerless to save her. The terror, however, runs deeper than mere physical threat. The alien menace never reveals its true form, instead adopting the faces of ordinary people, each fixed with a disturbingly identical, vacant grin. The Joined, as they are known, swiftly establish their dominance, extinguishing any hope of resistance. Most have already surrendered, leaving Carol as the lone holdout.

Unsettling Revelations

Yet, the most unnerving aspect is the candour with which The Joined share their intentions. Their aim is to assimilate Carol and the dozen others immune to the virus. Whether it takes days or years, they calmly assure her that her immunity will eventually be overcome, with the collective intellect of humanity now working ceaselessly to solve the problem. This inevitability, coupled with Carol’s isolation and grief, creates a profound sense of despair. The second episode amplifies this existential dread, favouring a slow, creeping discomfort over outright shocks—at least until episode five.

Carol, struggling to adapt, begins recording messages for other survivors, hoping to restore what’s been lost. She uncovers a potential method to reverse The Joining, though its nature remains unclear. With The Joined having vacated her city, claiming they “need a little space,” Carol is free to investigate. She soon notices every public bin overflowing with empty milk cartons, but the contents are not milk, but a peculiar yellow fluid. Her search leads her to a dog-food factory, Agri-jet, where she stumbles upon something far more disturbing than discarded food. The episode ends abruptly as Carol recoils in horror, the truth only revealed in the next chapter.

The Truth Behind The Joined

Episode six opens with Carol fleeing the factory, shaken by her discovery. Determined, she documents the scene with her camera, exposing the horrors within: human heads, shrink-wrapped in plastic, and a variety of other body parts.

“This is what this whole plant is being used for,”

Carol states. There’s also mention of a meat grinder “the size of a bus,” though it remains unseen. The implication is clear—the yellow liquid consumed by The Joined is derived from human remains. For a series so adept at defying expectations, this is the first moment where Pluribus seems to flirt with predictability. The notion that The Joined have been feeding on humans all along feels almost inevitable.

However, Gilligan is not one to settle for the obvious. The apparent predictability, and the found-footage style of the reveal, are deliberate misdirections. After Carol’s grim discovery, the narrative abruptly shifts to a sun-soaked LA pool party, where Koumba, another unassimilated human, enjoys a decadent existence. The Joined, it seems, are eager to keep each survivor content. Carol arrives to share her findings, only to learn that Koumba is already aware.

“Is this about them eating people?”

he asks, unfazed.

“It is troubling,”

he adds, with a nonchalance that unsettles Carol.

Subverting Expectations

Just as the horror seems to reach its peak, the show upends it. Why is Koumba so unbothered? Why didn’t he warn Carol? The answer arrives in the form of John Cena. The actor appears in a slickly produced video, addressing concerns about The Joined’s “food supply.” Yet, this is not truly Cena, but a version subsumed into the collective mind. Cena explains that The Joined cannot harm any living thing, making traditional agriculture impossible. With billions to feed and dwindling resources, they resort to using the remains of the 100,000 people who die naturally each day.

“We’re not that keen on it, but we’re left with little choice,”

Cena concludes, his charm making the explanation almost palatable.

Koumba admits,

“None of us are [pleased with this].”

Yet, it’s a reality he and Carol must accept. The horror shifts from the grotesque to the disturbingly rational. The use of statistics and acronyms to justify cannibalism drains the act of its emotional weight, mirroring the emotional numbness imposed by The Joined. The expectation that this explanation should be accepted as reasonable adds another layer of discomfort. Carol, and by extension the audience, are drawn into a reluctant understanding.

The episode soon returns to Carol’s personal journey. Her sense of isolation deepens when she learns the other survivors have excluded her from future gatherings. Hope flickers when she discovers that The Joined require consent to assimilate her. By the time the story moves to Manousos in Paraguay, the initial horror of enforced cannibalism has faded, replaced by the unsettling normality of this new world—thanks, in no small part, to John Cena’s persuasive smile, now shared by billions.