“The 100”: A critique of season one
*Warning: Spoilers ahead*
*Content warning: Topics include violence, death, and suicide*
“The 100,” a sci-fi TV show, premiered on The CW in Mar. 2014, and quickly became one of the most popular shows on air with approximately 2.7 million views of the pilot episode. The show continued until Sep. 2020, where the seventh and final season ended, creating controversy and drama. It is my personal favorite TV show—however, my opinions change significantly depending on the season. I can’t possibly delve into everything I love about this series in one article, so I’m going to start with season one and we will go from there.
“The 100” takes place in the very distant future, after a nuclear war floods the planet with radiation, making Earth uninhabitable. The only survivors were those who were able to escape to space and orbit around Earth. For the past 97 years, a collection of space stations, dubbed “The Ark,” lived together, trying to hold it together for another century when they predict all the radiation would leak away, making Earth survivable once again.
However, there’s a catch—they are running out of air, and it will take longer to repair the oxygen scrubbers than they have left. They have two options: go to Earth, and hope it is survivable, or kill a large portion of their own people to make time for the rest. Everyone loves a compromise, though, so why not do both?
In order to find out if the ground is survivable, The Council (the people in charge on The Ark) send down one hundred juvenile prisoners to the ground with electronic wristbands to monitor their vital signs. When the hundred crash to the Earth, falling starkly off-course, they are left stranded by themselves to survive a completely foreign world that is as strange to them as space is to us.
A few leaders emerge from the crowd, the first being Bellamy Blake, a former guard who would do anything to protect his little sister Octavia Blake. Octavia herself is the talk of the camp, as no family is allowed more than one child; as a result, Octavia was hidden under the floor of her family’s room for over sixteen years. Bellamy effortlessly takes control of the camp, igniting passion within the 100, leading with the slogan “whatever the hell you want” and preaching total anarchy.
Clarke Griffin, daughter of the chief medical officer Abby Griffin, is the voice of reason, trying to establish communication with The Ark, find food and water, and maintain order. However, after a series of bad encounters, the 100 makes an enemy of “The Grounders”: people on the ground who survived the radiation.
The first season is mostly about establishing these characters, among others (I haven’t even gotten to some of my favorites or the struggles of group dynamics and difficult decisions). Clarke does everything in her power to maintain order while Bellamy creates disorder. It isn’t until after a murder, an attempted execution, and a suicide that Clarke is able to convince Bellamy to create rules and punishments for those who break those rules.
This is an emotional moment in the series, because such a high price must be paid for such a small revelation. The moment that a 12-year-old girl jumped off a cliff into a foggy valley felt like a kick to the gut for the audience, a martyr for order and rule of law. It was a moment that broke Bellamy a little, as well as the other characters, and reminded both Clarke and Bellamy the weight of the responsibility as leaders.
Meanwhile, on The Ark, an entirely different debate is taking place. The council has lost all contact with the one-hundred, and they are beginning to experience the effects of oxygen deprivation. With no hope left, there is no other choice but to kill off dozens of innocent citizens to decrease the number of people breathing what is left of the air. All of section 17, well over 100 people, are slated to die.
However, killing off innocent people as they sleep is far from ethical, and produced debate amongst the council members. Finally, Abby Griffin releases footage of her late husband explaining the oxygen shortage, followed by herself telling everyone on The Ark about the plan.
The counselors braced for panic but were surprised by the hundreds of citizens lined up to volunteer to die in place of those slated to be sacrificed. In another emotional scene, dozens of men and women line up, placing their IDs on a table, looking The Chancellor in the eye and saying, “I would like to volunteer for Section 17.” As person after person marches up to the council, a sense of somber hope rises. How admirable a sacrifice, but one that cannot be adequately thanked for.
These emotional moments drive a final nail into the coffin of the burden of rule and the beauty of humanity. They remind us of the responsibility leaders face, and the ability for people to draw together in times of great need, when the hour is most grave. Themes such as these carry on in later seasons, but that is a discussion for a different time.
