The Holy Grail, a character from “Mrs. Davis,” she observes, could be “the most abused MacGuffin in history.” From "Monty Python" to "Indiana Jones," the mythical chalice is easy shorthand for a magical item that motivates heroes and antagonists alike. Sister Simone (Betty Gilpin), a nun who spends her days making strawberry jam in an abbey outside Reno, is the latest protagonist to set her sights on the Grail. She's been tasked with this quest by an artificial intelligence known as Mrs. Davis, who marries the menace of Skynet with Alexa's mild-mannered countenance. For personal and principled reasons, Simone despises Mrs. Davis, but she has been made an offer she cannot refuse: if she finds the Grail and destroys it, Mrs. Davis will destroy herself. As the supporting actor himself points out: "Algorithms love clichés, and there is no bigger cliché than the search for the Holy Grail."
Viewers can appreciate the use of such a simple and ubiquitous symbol in the Peacock series, which otherwise seems to revel in absurd and surreal scenes designed to disorient. Between an endurance contest involving a giant sword (it's called "Excalibattle"), an open interdimensional relationship, and a heist that relies on a tool dubbed the "Constipator," the Holy Grail acts as an anchor for a recognizable form of alternate reality: basic, familiar and easy to understand. “Mrs. Davis” may nod to the influence of AI in modern storytelling, which only grows in importance with the rise of tools like ChatGPT; all eight episodes have nonsensical titles, like “Mother of Mercy: The Call of the horse" and "A great place to drink to gain control of your drink", which are generated by a machine. But in its inventiveness, "Mrs. Davis" acts as an antidote to programming by numbers and algorithm appeasement which is becoming commonplace in the streaming age, even as such craziness sometimes overwhelms its ability to tell a fully cohesive story.
Stars: Jake McDorman, Betty Gilpin, Andy McQueen
The show is co-created by "The Big Bang Theory" alum Tara Hernandez and Damon Lindelof, whose post-"Lost" resume is marked by increasingly bold leaps of faith in the near future. Like "The Leftovers" and "Watchmen," "Mrs. Davis" has a playful tone that helps counter its metaphysical overtones. Our introduction to its world comes via one Dr. Schrodinger (Ben Chaplin), who has been stranded on a desert island since before Ms. Davis ended famine, war, and all the competing social media platforms.(A savior puts him, and by extension us, in the loop.) Naturally, Schrödinger has a cat.
The basis for all this antics is Gilpin, who takes on his first leading role in a series since the early and unfair cancellation of "Glow." Like Simone, the actor is a skeptical center of gravity. To her, Mrs. Davis is "it," never "her," let alone "mama" or "mom," as the show is known abroad. The nun's animosity is more than that of a believer towards the competition of the Catholic Church; as she tells Jay (Andy McQueen), a mysterious figure who runs a falafel joint, Simone also blames Mrs. Davis for the death of her father, a local magician. But she also mistrusts her ex, Wiley (Jake McDorman), the self-proclaimed leader of the anti-AI resistance. Nothing instills a healthy bullshit detector like knowing from birth that "magic" tricks are anything but.
In looks and attitude, Simone bears a strong resemblance to Angela Abar from "Watchmen," who was played by Regina King. Angela also kicked some butt while wearing a habit, under the moniker Sister Night. She also helped put down the craziness around her by asking questions on behalf of the audience, chief among them: "What the hell?" - a direct quote from both series. Such a stand-in comes in handy as Simone and Wiley's mission sends them across the ocean and into the depths of the Vatican, where they encounter exploding warheads, a cult of female bankers, and a sneaker-based conspiracy. That's a lot of exposure which, frankly, is too much to keep track of. Nonetheless, Gilpin gives us something to hold on to, especially in scenes with Simone's mother, Celeste (Elizabeth Marvel), whose grief takes the form of extreme denial. Beneath the jokes about reading Ayn Rand to her daughter as a child, there is a conflict with more interests on a human scale than technology versus religion.
“Mrs. Davis” lacks the sanctimoniousness and seriousness that can overwhelm “Black Mirror,” the dystopian anthology that makes an obvious point of comparison.