Of the scary Netflix movies recommended to me that I hadn't seen, this was one of the most highly rated. I opted not to save it for the end of the month because it's not a horror in the usual sense. It presents a nightmarish scenario, yes, but the protagonist is rarely in imminent mortal peril.
The Vertical Self-Management Center, also known as the Pit (a closer translation of the native Spanish title, El Hoyo), consists of stacked cells for two prisoners each, with a big hole in the floors/ceilings for a floating platform. Those on Floor 1 (the top) are treated to a sumptuous feast, Floor 2 gets their leftovers, and so on down the line. Once a month, everyone is gassed unconscious and wakes up on another floor (the number shown on the wall), seemingly chosen at random, albeit with the same cellmates -- if they both survive.
In theory, there's enough food for everyone to get by. In practice, most prisoners have no respect for those literally below them, and many of the lowest floors never get a crumb. So much for fluid social strata inspiring cooperation, but then, probably most prisoners are violent criminals. Suicide is common even near the top, and those who survive the lower floors...well, let's just say they don't settle for tap water alone.
Protagonist Goreng (Iván Massagué) actually volunteers to spend six months in the Pit on the promise of a scholarship. Clearly, it was not an informed decision; he's as appalled as we are. I don't know whether he expected such spartan furnishing, which would have been a dealbreaker for me, but he was allowed one personal possession. He chose Don Quixote, appropriate for a Spaniard who hopes to reform the place. But how much of his own humanity can he keep intact?
I'll mention other major characters. Goreng's first cellmate, Trimagasi (Zorion Eguileor), exhibits a curious mix of amiability and nastiness that reflects his relatively long tenure. The next one, Imoguiri (Antonia San Juan -- yes, the genders mingle in the Pit), had also been Goreng's recruiter; her terminal cancer inspired her to join him. Miharu (Alexandra Masangkay) rides the platform monthly in search of her young child, regardless of the alleged rule against any prisoners under age 16. She appreciates Goreng's pity, but she's pretty good at taking care of herself -- by which I mean killing.
Lest you think this pure social sci-fi, there's no mechanism to explain how the platform hovers. And despite the Pit having more floors than the Burj Khalifa, no one complains about the temperature, except when it rapidly increases or decreases in a given cell until the prisoners either toss down the food they were saving for later or dies. How the system can do this without affecting adjoining floors is beyond me. And how did maggots get into such an insular structure?
So many gross things happen that I soon became numb to them. I have to wonder about the administrators. They know they're not just punishing crime. Are they psycho sickos? Scientists with no ethics oversight? Or do they trust in automation so much that none of them has bothered to learn the gritty details? Imoguiri certainly proves ignorant on some points, bringing more optimism than Goreng still has. Along with her wiener dog. Don't watch if you love those.
I give TP credit for making me think and feel a lot more than claustrophobia, even if I disagree with the thought experiment's implied economic statement. But I'm not surprised the sequel bombed. Where can the makers take it from here?
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