The primary conceit of Whitehead’s novel is that the metaphorical Underground Railroad in the antebellum South – a historical network of routes and safe houses used by enslaved African Americans to escape to the Northern U.S.
Jenkins is among the few directors and producers who could do it justice, and his 10-episode series is a dark, gorgeous, slightly flawed but ultimately spectacular adaptation.
Cora and Caesar get on a train, although their trip is not the kind of singular, easy journey straight to a free Northern state that one might expect.
In one, a South Carolina town ostensibly “betters” the lives of former slaves, but is really a thinly disguised laboratory for eugenics and scientific experimentation on Black people.
Throughout her journey, Cora is pursued by the obsessive slave catcher Ridgeway , who took his failure to recapture her mother as a personal affront.
Conversely, Cora has little choice in her life, and no characteristics of a Harriet Tubman-style superhero or other assured protagonists of these kinds of stories.
End credits feature a modern song, a brisk and sudden departure from the world of the show into the real one, a juxtaposition of tone that surprises even after many episodes.
Mbedu is the series’ stunning standout, imbuing Cora with a deep humanity and empathy in her every scene, even when she has no dialogue.
Jenkins, although celebrated as a film director, is a master of episodic storytelling: Each installment is a complete story that deserves time and space to stand on its own.
But to give up on “Underground” because it can be hard to watch is its own tragedy.