His Dark Material season 3 review – From dust to dust

A collection of top-drawer actors – mostly British – with at least one A-list name in the mix. Beloved genre source material known for asking complex questions about morality and identity as it explored fantastical narratives. An elaborate animated intro credits scene accompanied by an earworm theme song created by an accomplished Hollywood composer. Going on those descriptions alone, you would probably be forgiven for thinking I was referring to Game of Thrones or maybe Westworld. But a few years back, HBO (in collaboration with BBC) launched His Dark Materials, another piece of big-budget marquee genre television, seemingly following the established recipe for success rather slavishly… and nobody seemed to care.

Now that’s not entirely fair, as the fact that we’re here, in the third and final season of this adaptation of Phillip Pullman’s popular trilogy, attests that some people cared. In fact, it’s me. I’m “some people”. And it’s a pity that His Dark Materials never quite entered the pop cultural zeitgeist like its aforementioned peers as what showrunner Jack Thorne has given us is one the best fantasy adaptations of recent times. This closing act easily stands as the best of the bunch as it confidently brings to life on-screen The Amber Spyglass, Pullman’s most challenging entry, without pulling any of said book’s punches. And yes, that includes the iconoclastic “Let’s kill God” plot that saw the author’s books banned in many an American classroom.

The show has had its stumbles getting to this point though. It came flying out of the blocks in its 2019 debut season, much like its “leap before you look” young heroine Lyra Belacqua (Dafne Keen) who bounded across the rooftops of the Jordan College of an alternate reality – a world in which human souls manifest as animal companions called daemons, and which is governed with an iron fist by the religious body known as the Magisterium who teach that the mysterious substance known as dust is the physical manifestation of sin. That season set Lyra off on a globetrotting adventure to find a missing friend, discovering along the way that not only is her explorer uncle, Lord Asriel (James McAvoy), and her mentor, Mrs. Coulter (Ruth Wilson), actually her biological parents, but that both of them are simply the worst. Oh, and Lyra is apparently the subject of a doom-and-gloom prophecy involving said dust! We also got to meet Will Parry (Amir Wilson), a brooding teenage boy whose search for answers about his missing father eventually leads him through a portal to a new world, the first of many for him. See? This show even had the multiverse going for it long before Marvel made it cool. If that’s not enough, it also had witches, talking, armour-wearing polar bears, and Lin-Manuel Miranda doing a godawful Texan accent… for some reason.

Besides for that painful miscasting, the first season also had some pacing problems, as it was sometimes too eager to spend time on less interesting subplots instead of letting its great young stars do their thing. Whatever slight loss of inertia that resulted from these missteps was multiplied when the COVD-19 pandemic resulted in a reduced episode count – cutting out practically all material featuring McAvoy, the show’s biggest A-list drawcard – and dropping viewer numbers as it got released without much fanfare during that murky pandemic non-time. Again, that was the pity, as Thorne and co gave us some strong plot beats there, as well as the delightful additions of fan-favourite characters like nun-turned-theoretical-physicist Dr Mary Malone (Simone Kirby) whose study into the mythical “dust” that links the many worlds takes her on a journey of discovery across the cosmos.

Now season three is here, seeing McAvoy shoved front and centre after raising an army from across the multiverse to take down the Authority, the celestial figure claiming to be the creator of all things, who has a church-like organization in each world subjugating free will through its respective doctrines. And immediately the show is better for the actor’s returned prominence, as McAvoy does a perfect job of balancing Asriel’s charm with his downright unforgivable parenting skills to offer a complex layered performance. Ruth Wilson, easily the show’s thespian MVP across its previous seasons, continues her magnetic streak as the love-to-hate-her Coulter, as she strains against her innate calculating coldness to try to be a better mother.

While Keen’s Lyra is not given much to do in this season’s opening chapters, spending most of it in a drugged-up stupor after getting kidnapped by Coulter in the previous finale, latter events involving a trip to the Land of the Dead see our primary protagonist having to really show her acting chops. Keen has definitely grown into this role. So too Amir Wilson has seemingly put his real-life growing up to good use, giving us a Will Parry much more assertive, having been forced to mature after suffering the bittersweet fate of finding his father only to immediately lose him again. He also became the bearer of the Subtle Knife aka Æsahættr, a blade so sharp it can slice the fabric between worlds, making him a key player in Asriel’s war and a person of interest to the angels who have also chosen sides in this conflict.

Pullman’s books famously describe the angels as glimmering nude beings of light, but Thorne and his directors give us viewers something a lot more toned down. But while their appearance is not as controversial as the source materials, these angels still offer a surprising and touching subplot involving the power of love transcending restrictive societal norms, a story beat echoed by another main character’s touching tale. It’s the type of unashamed queerness that is probably going to rile up the anti-woke crowd – although they probably wouldn’t have stuck around long after the “Almighty” was declared as public enemy #1 anyway as the show very overtly suggests an overlapping of fascism and organized religion.

In their pearl-clutched ship-jumping these folks would miss out on some truly magical moments though, as Thorne and his writers lean into the idiosyncrasies of Pullman’s trilogy capstone. This includes empathic alien creatures that resemble a cross between an elephant and a moose who, for all intents and purposes, roller-skate, and somehow steal your heart despite that absurdity (sorry, book readers, no “tualapi” though). The quietly introspective moments with these “mulefa” stand as contrast to the action-packed spectacle as Asriel, along with franchise newcomer General Ogunwe (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, given very little to do except play audience catch-up surrogate), go to battle with the heavens.

Admittedly, some of the final stages of this war left me scratching my head in befuddlement, as Thorne seemingly went for “gosh darn cool visuals” over logic (there are also some aspects that could have done with a little more explanation as they may go over the heads of those not familiar with Christian theology). However, as viscerally entertaining as these pyrotechnics are, they are not help elevate His Dark Materials to its now-triumphant position. The ideas of friendship, familial bonds, love, loss, and morality which have been put forward and dissected throughout the show’s run thus far, get examined more closely across these final eight episodes. Threads that appeared to have been disparate before are pulled together now, retroactively correcting missteps. There’s even some keen-eyed real-world political allegory put in play with the rise of Father President MacPhail (Will Keen) to the top of the Magisterium, his increasingly unhinged leadership contrasted with the calmly unnerving efficiency of the as-handsome-as-he-is-dangerous new villain Father Gomez (Jamie Ward).

Here we’re also reminded that while Pullman’s world is a kaleidoscopic juxtaposition of outlandish creatures and worlds, at its core this tale is a treatise on humanity itself. His Dark Materials has been described as an inverted adaptation of Milton’s Paradise Lost, where the latter views the Biblical original sin as the fall of man, while Pullman suggests it to be the start of man’s ascendance. A climb that will only be complete after the shirking of the yoke placed onto the shoulders of humanity by those who claim to speak for the people. For a story that begun its life seemingly in full-on YA mode, that is certainly a level of unexpected intellectual complexity.

Thorne doesn’t ever shy away from these controversial propositions in his adaption, but it’s also not always just about heady philosophical debates. The showrunner knows when to tug on those heart strings, with this season closing off this epic tale on a tender and intimate note, belying the widescreen spectacle around it. It’s a journey of growing up for our young characters that echo the very disruptive growth that Pullman is advocating for humanity as a whole. That makes for a tough landing to stick, but His Dark Materials does it, mainly through the type of emotional work that is sure to leave a few viewers pretending they have some… dust in their eye.

His Dark Materials season 3 is currently airing weekly on Showmax.com.