Vince Gilligan, the mastermind behind Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, has always understood the power of patience. His latest Apple TV+ series, Pluribus, is no exception—and it's become the platform's most-watched sci-fi show ever. But not everyone is on board. Critics and fans alike have grumbled about its deliberate, almost glacial pacing. However, to dismiss Pluribus as boring is to miss the point entirely.
Gilligan, an alum of The X-Files, knows that leaving viewers in the dark keeps them hungry for more. With Pluribus, he reunites with Better Call Saul star Rhea Seehorn, who plays Carol Sturka, a cynical author thrust into a global takeover by a mysterious hive mind called "The Others." The first episode is a dazzling, disorienting plunge into chaos—people are dying, survivors inexplicably know Carol's name, and everyone is unnervingly nice. It's a setup that trusts the audience to piece together the puzzle.
But then, the show slows down. Over nine episodes, viewers get only crumbs of explanation. Carol resists the Others' relentless cheerfulness, then begins to show signs of Stockholm syndrome. The season ends with Carol and fellow immune Manousos Oviedo receiving an atom bomb—a hint that the real story is just beginning. For many, this felt like a cheat. They wanted explosive answers, not more questions.
Yet that's precisely the genius of Pluribus. Unlike Walter White, who transformed into Heisenberg within a season, or Jimmy McGill, who couldn't help but scheme, Carol is a reluctant hero stuck in her own pessimism. She's a frustrated novelist writing low-brow fantasy, and it would be dishonest to her character if she solved the world's problems overnight. Her exasperation with the Others' robotic friendliness is the show's dark humor and its grounded heart.
Gilligan's love for slow-burn filmmaking is his secret weapon. From the unbroken wide shots of the New Mexico desert in Breaking Bad to the meticulous process scenes of Mike Ehrmantraut dismantling a device, he has always savored the journey. Pluribus takes that to the extreme, focusing on Carol's small, frustrating attempts to make sense of her world. It's a measured scope that forces us to sit with the discomfort—and that's where the magic lies.
This isn't a show for those who need instant gratification. It's a series that rewards patience, much like Stephen King's Lisey's Story, which also found its audience over time. Pluribus is a reflection of our own relationship with technology—the creeping sense that AI and connectivity might take over our lives, not with a bang, but with a smile.
In an era of binge-worthy thrills, Gilligan has crafted a show that dares to be slow. And that's exactly why it's worth watching.
