Netflix’s The Signal Is a Decent Mystery-Thriller That Doesn’t Fully Live Up to Its Cosmic Aspirations

There’s no shortage of stories that speculate about what may lie in the stars, and for good reason. While we’ve cracked plenty of enigmas about our own planet, one of the biggest remaining questions is what awaits in the infinitely vast reaches of space, a curiosity that has given way to an entire sci-fi sub-genre about first contact and what happens when the unknown finally comes to our door. Unsurprisingly, there’s a wide range of opinions on how this would go, ranging from cynical (alien invasions) to more optimistic (shriveled-up little raisin-looking guys who just want to hang out), but most of these tales are ultimately about whether these beings would reflect our best impulses, our worst, or something else entirely.

The Signal, a German-produced miniseries on Netflix, is another story about first contact. More specifically, it’s about people worrying about what kind of guests they’ll be receiving from deep space. Over its short four-episode runtime, it delivers conspiracy-laden thrills and builds out relatively affecting relationships between the family at the center of this tale, but unfortunately, the answers to its big questions end up feeling anticlimactic.

We follow Paula (Peri Baumeister), Sven (Florian David Fitz), and their daughter Charlie (Yuna Bennett), a family eager to be reunited after Paula’s tenure on the International Space Station comes to a close. But something isn’t quite right. After landing back on Earth, Paula leaves Sven a cryptic remark about how “something happened up there,” which we eventually learn refers to a strange message she heard while in orbit. Soon after, everyone on Paula’s flight back to Germany goes missing, forcing Sven and Charlie to piece together a mystery with extraterrestrial implications.

The series gets off to a strong start, with a first episode that expresses the visceral emotions caused by this plane that went dark over the Atlantic. Specific details sell this nightmare scenario—a woman having a panic attack in a bathroom, the missing passengers’ families waiting together in a nearby hotel as each phone call from a potential survivor is received with bated breath, the conference where the airline breaks the horrible truth of what’s happened, resulting in an eruption of grief and anger. It’s all the more painful because the family connections between our central characters are well-defined enough to make this apparent loss feel cutting.

We see the bond shared by Sven, a jaded history teacher, and his precocious daughter, Charlie, who reflects her mom’s optimism and love of space travel. There is a great deal of warmth in their daily routines, many of which relate to the fact that Charlie is hard of hearing, and the two affectionately communicate in sign as they get ready for the day. However, their separation from Paula proves a point of contention that brings out the worst in Sven, as he waffles between denial and honesty with his daughter. Buried marital woes regarding his wife’s line of work and a big secret resurface as the public is left in a state of outrage over her seeming involvement in the flight going missing. Fitz and Bennett’s performances help convey enough moments of relatable familial tensions and care to make us hope this father-daughter duo comes out on the other side, a prospect that becomes dicier as we learn the full breadth of the plot they’ve been sucked into.

Through its initial episodes, thriller elements sink their hooks in, and questions spiral in every direction as more comes to light about what Paula learned in low Earth orbit. We cut from her experiences on the ISS in the past to her family piecing things together in the present, both halves dramatically building towards something of cosmic importance. Filmmaking choices, like the sun refracting off the space station’s window panes, allude to the galactic scope of the proceedings, selling the gravity of the circumstances.

But unfortunately, like many mystery stories, the answers don’t live up to the questions. When the guiding forces behind these machinations are suddenly revealed, the villain isn’t given nearly enough screentime or specificity to make their motivations feel convincing. Moreover, as it goes on, the plot increasingly delves into tired territory as a character struggles to tell if what they’re experiencing is “real” or caused by mental illness, a plot point that feels trite, even if it couldn’t have been handled worse.

And for many, the biggest point of contention will likely be how the show handles its implied visitors from another world. To tiptoe around spoilers, I’ll just say that on the positive side, the screenplay, written by leading actor Florian David Fitz alongside Nadine Gottmann and Kim Zimmermann, does a good job alluding to the kind of grandiose questions that space travel often provokes. For instance, there’s a persistent ideological clash between Sven, who believes humanity is doomed to repeat the same mistakes, and Paula, who genuinely believes we can do better, a conflict that ties in reasonably well with where the finale goes. But when the story eventually arrives at its endpoint, the conclusion rushes through these ideas with a reveal that doesn’t capitalize on the previous sense of escalation. Although this last sequence feels thematically consistent, its execution doesn’t give things enough room to breathe, resulting in a disappointing denouement.

Over its brief four-episode runtime, The Signal does a fair amount right. It captures the familial love between its core characters, especially through its grounded depictions of loss. Early on, it builds up intriguing mysteries, doling out secrets in the past and present that carry massive implications. However, the series doesn’t ultimately pay off these out-of-this-world discoveries. The climax comes too abruptly, and the buildup dissipates due to relatively mundane realizations. While it’s hard to fault The Signal for reaching for the stars, in the end, its reach exceeds its grasp.

The Signal is now streaming on Netflix. 

Elijah Gonzalez is an assistant Games and TV Editor for Paste Magazine. In addition to playing and watching the latest on the small screen, he also loves film, creating large lists of media he’ll probably never actually get to, and dreaming of the day he finally gets through all the Like a Dragon games. You can follow him on Twitter @eli_gonzalez11.

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