The Sandman (2022-Present)

*Premise spoilers.*

The Sandman is one of those series where the word “unadaptable” gets thrown around a lot. It feels too big, too fantastical, too dark, too weird, and too meandering to ever be done justice. As someone who isn’t a major fan of the comic series but has been drawn into every volume I’ve read of it, I went into the new Netflix series curious and cautiously hopeful. And honestly? I think they’re nailing it.

In 1916, an aristocrat/sorcerer named Roderick Burgess tries to capture Death and ends up catching someone else instead: her younger brother Dream. When Dream finally escapes after more than a century of imprisonment, he discovers that both his realm and the Waking World have suffered in his absence. He sets out to recover his stolen tools, repair the Dreaming, and retrieve several nightmares who’ve gone missing.

This is a sprawling story, and not just in the Game of Thrones, “dozens of characters, numerous locales” sense. The Sandman is sprawling in its very narrative. It involves members of the immortal family known as the Endless, a trip to Hell, an escaped murderer preying on a sleepy diner, a man who refuses to die, and a young woman who can walk through the dreams of everyone at her bed and breakfast. A bonus double episode released after the main season goes off into even wilder tangents involving cat prophets and enslaved Muses. There’s a little of everything here and hints of more to come.

Yet somehow, the series makes it all feel cohesive. As the story shifts from Dream’s search for his tools into the plotline involving the Vortex, we pass from one narrative to the other through the lovely coda of “The Sound of Her Wings,” which itself effortlessly combines stories from two different issues of the comic. The themes and the imagery weave it all together, with a throughline of Dream’s imprisonment and how he’s changing since he escaped. It’s an impressive feat, and the show pulls it off well.

The visuals are spectacular. Half dreadful, half stunning, the images saturate the screen and bring us fully into these worlds. Special shoutout to every member of the Endless that we meet—they all look so good—and the CGI on the transformation of Fiddler’s Green.

Fine acting all around. Again, the Endless need particular kudos. At the center of the series, Tom Sturridge is the embodiment of Dream. I love how cold and remote he feels, and Sturridge does a nice job bringing in these subtle notes of empathy and consideration as his experiences change him for the better. Kirby Howell-Baptiste (Simone from The Good Place!) is exquisite as Dream, and Mason Alexander Park makes for a sumptuous Desire. We only get a glimpse of Donna Preston as Despair, but it’s enough that I want to see more of her.

Other notable cast members: I was dubious of Boyd Holbrook on Narcos, but he’s excellent as the nightmare known as the Corinthian, equal parts menacing and seductive. David Thewlis is great as John Dee, and Gwendoline Christie makes for an intriguing Lucifer. Kyo Ra is a newcomer, but she’s very engaging as Rose Walker. I also love the warmth and specificity of Stephen Fry’s performance as Gilbert. Additionally, the show features strong appearances from Jenna Coleman, Ferdinand Kingsley, and Arthur Darvill.

Warnings

Violence, disturbing imagery, sexual content, language, drinking/smoking, and strong thematic elements (including child abuse.)

The Sandman, Vol. 8: Worlds’ End (1993)

A fairly Endless-light volume after the events of Brief Lives, but still a good one, offering up a variety of fanciful tales and some intriguing ideas. Even though it’s taking me a while to get through The Sandman – I find that I enjoy it best when I give it some space to breathe between volumes – it’s still a worthwhile journey featuring some really striking storytelling.

Brant and Charlene are driving overnight to Chicago when their car gets into an accident in the middle of a reality storm. The only refuge to be found is at the Worlds’ End inn, where an assortment of creatures from different worlds and realms tell stories as they wait for the storm to pass.

This is a good setup. I enjoy the concept of a reality storm, both just the basic idea of it and the notion that it’s caused when something so monumental happens at a cosmic level that the ends of reality start coming undone. I also like the idea of the inn as this insubstantial way station in the eye of the storm, a place to ride it out safely but a place that only really exists in these moments of crisis. And “a bunch of disparate individuals sit around and tell stories” is a frequent winner of a premise, and Neil Gaiman makes the most out of this one.

The stories are varied and largely unconnected, though there are a few brief glimpses of members of the Endless here and there, and one character identifies a common stylistic thread throughout the different tales toward the end of the volume. They’re full of Gaiman’s characteristic macabre, fantastical vision, plucked out of a no-place between anecdote, fairytale, and myth. I also enjoy the conceit of having each tale drawn by a different artist, while the connective tissue of the World’s End scenes all have a single style.

Some of the stories are more intriguing than others, but there’s something to enjoy in all of them. I particularly like “A Tale of Two Cities,” the story of a man who gets caught in the dream of the city where he lives, and “The Golden Boy,” about a young political idealist who’s offered the chance to make a deal with a devil in exchange for power. I also really enjoy the concept of the necropolis in the story “Cerements,” a society of ghouls whose livelihoods (in a manner of speaking) are derived from diverse ceremonies of the dead.

As interesting as this volume is, it is admittedly a bit of a letdown after Brief Lives. When I reviewed that volume, I mentioned that I hoped to see some continuation on the story presented there, even though I know that’s not really The Sandman’s way. And we do get a few hints, but it’s only enough to tantalize, not enough to really explore any of the revelations made in Brief Lives. Part of me hopes for more in the coming volumes, but it’s hard to say if there’s any likelihood of that happening at this point.

The Sandman, Vol. 7: Brief Lives (1992-1993)

Once again, it’s been a while since I read a volume of Sandman, but this one is great, maybe my favorite of the series so far! Very Endless-focused, which is totally my jam, and the interludes tie in nicely with the main story.

Delirium, the youngest of the Endless, is longing for a reunion with her brother Destruction, who left the family centuries earlier. She entreats her siblings to help, and finally, a lovelorn Dream agrees to accompany her on her search, if only in the hopes that it will distract him from a recent heartbreak. The journey takes them through the waking world, where they look for other inhabitants of Earth old enough to have seen Destruction before he disappeared, but forces seem to conspire against the quest.

Because it bears repeating: Sandman does a lot of neat things along a wide range of stories that fit loosely within its themes, but for my money, its best feature is the Endless, and the otherworldly family takes the center stage here. Our main characters in this volume are Dream and Delirium, a great odd-couple sibling pairing. Dream is so self-serious and goth, and Delirium is just an undulating bundle of chaos – in other words, the perfect combination for a supernatural road trip.

Obviously, the focus of their mission is to find Destruction, so we also learn more about him, both through the search itself and through flashbacks. But each of the Endless makes one or more prominent appearances, and along with it, we’re given interesting tidbits on the various characters and insights into the family’s history. There are some particularly intriguing hints on Delirium’s backstory and on the twins, Desire and Despair, that I hope get explored further in later volumes.

I also like the idea of other long-lived beings scattered about the earth, former or forgotten gods who’ve integrated themselves into modern society, living on. Not that this is a novel idea or anything (hello, vampire lit!), but the way it’s executed here reminds me a little of American Gods, which makes sense, since that’s also Neil Gaiman.

The thing about Sandman is that you never really know what you’re going to get from one volume to the next, which makes this volume a little frustrating precisely because I like it so much. The story pulls at a lot of interesting threads and I want to get more on them, but I had no idea if anything here will ever be mentioned again. Every so often, I flip through the earlier volumes just to go, “Oh yeah, remember _________? I almost forgot that was in here!” With this one, though, I’m crossing my fingers that the choicest threads won’t be dropped.

Warnings

Violence, sexual content, language, drinking/smoking/drug use, disturbing images, and strong thematic elements.