Scavengers Reign: Dancing with the Extraterrestrial Life

It would be a gross understatement to call the alien inhabitants of Vesta in Scavengers Reign “uncanny” only. Think about it: gelatinous, lamprey-like beings have the ability to act as involuntary respirators when applied to your face; gigantic herds of horse-like creatures whose throat pouches swell while they are performing their sounds; spiky, fruit-like spheres have their fibrous centers used as electrical conduits; and a rhinoceros-like giant whose intestines contain glowing, bioluminescent sacs, their light is good but taking them out is an endurance and a masochism.

But let’s be honest with ourselves, such bizarre, unpleasant-looking, over-inflated-throat, thorny-fruit aliens are not the real ones. The novelty, in fact, is to be found in us. We are the ones who got in, the clumsy, brittle invaders getting through a territory whose reasoning does not yield to our comfort. Scavengers Reign presents itself like a rich, ornate fabric of human stubbornness and ridiculousness, a mesmerizing dance of existence where no time is not like in the crazy dream of a science fiction artist.

Vesta is not an alien planet by appearance, but with the same rarefied atmosphere made the most daring sci-fi worlds that the audience of such have the hallucination to experience. The planet gives a sensation of not being a place for conquering or cataloging, but a planet whose life forms are so indifferent to humans, and the existence of the usual biology, physics, and even of common sense has been replaced by something odd, untamed, and infinitely more charming.

The series has its origins in Scavengers, a tiny, nearly meditative short by Joseph Bennett and Charles Huettner. It first aired on Adult Swim in 2016 and is probably still in the digital ether. The original showed two shipwrecked astronauts finding their way on a planet that looked like it had been created by cosmic mischief.

Silently, they create a strange and very complicated system by using the planet’s original plants and animals. They weave together such a survival mechanism that is very intricate and convoluted; it is reminiscent of the wonderfully absurd devices of Heath Robinson, the British artist whose comical machines transformed simple chores into a display of the technology’s capacity in an exaggeratedly spread-out manner.

The creatures here are parts in a very alive, very chaotic, and anti-authoritarian machine of human creativity, a sign to the world that when the universe insists on being inscrutable, the pair of desperation and imagination will still be able to dance together.

The long-form version revels in the infusion of dialogue, character, and an ever more complex plot, resulting in the slow and surreal journey of a few crash victims scattered randomly all over the magically confusing, almost painterly. Azi looks after an oddly productive land, her labor rendered both touching and ridiculous by the existence of Levi, a very charmingly faulty robot whose breakdowns are simultaneously very funny and strangely lovable.

Sam, who is always in a bad mood, occupies himself with a rescue plan that is on the edge between brilliant and hopeless, working with Ursula, whose curious-eyed reverence for the “profound” beauty in their inhospitable environment is likened to a very borderline philosophical mania. While cut off and stranded, Kamen is fighting the two demons of guilt and self-blame, constantly reminded of the errors that caused the space disaster and made him the only one left to deal with the planet’s unfriendly oddities.

The survivors do find themselves in what might be called a nightmare at best, venomous, parasitic, and pointily aggressive wildlife on all sides, but it is nevertheless a paradoxical nightmare of great beauty. The rich, picturesque landscapes remind one of the fanciful splendor of Laika’s stop-motion dreams, where every single leaf, stone, and wisp of fog appears to be immersed in the attentive devotion of meticulous artists.

The depicted nature of the characters as endlessly changeable, frequently disgusting creatures looks to give the world an astounding biological dimension; in turn, it gives us the impression Space: 1999 has been brought back to life through the fevered imagination of David Fincher, a scenario of cosmic horror where the planet is a wonder and murderously inviting at the same time.

Nonetheless, Scavengers Reign, even though it is a large-scale visual work, it does not embrace complex mythologies and intergalactic family trees like The Expanse and Star Trek: Discovery. It does not feature sprawling empires, long-lasting plots, and hidden prophecies scattered all over the universe.

The show, however, focuses on the very basic, direct, and terribly beautiful struggle of the man and the machine against the alien wilderness, which is nothing less than a brilliant display of creativity, flesh, and unyielding physical chaos. Survival is a very physical and artistic one: a linking with the ooze, blood, and the unyielding ingenuity of the beings who are trying to claim a small and stubborn pulse of life against the great and indifferent alien world.

The show lures you into its spell instead of striking you with horror; it is more captivating than terrifying, a slow-burning, mesmerizing dream instead of a horror movie. The creators seem to capture every delicate tone of the cast, loneliness eating them up, fear’s tension bubbling under the surface, and the almost invisible, but remorse lingers around their tired bodies like a ghostly vapor.

However, the story beautifully intermingled with the portrayal of Vesta’s surreal, polymorphous ecosystem is a line of psycho-spirituality, as if the whole planet were a dreaming divine with an unexplainable rhythm that calls for amazement, meditation, and even an enchanting reverence for the extraterrestrial. The division between the viewers’ inner worlds and outer realities disappears, and their thinking about survival becomes a spell, a merging with the mysterious, bright, and bizarre life is so closely related to rationality as to be almost indistinguishable from it.

The line separating the plant world from the animal world on Vesta is not so much a matter of biology but a comfort of concept, if it exists at all. Life here contorts, flows, and changes its shape all at once; it is the kind of life that may be termed as grotesque or even bewitching. The planet is violent beyond doubt, and danger is lurking at every corner; however, there is a weird, nearly mesmerizing peace that prevails in its turmoil.

Bennett and Huettner have created a baroque ecosystem, which is huge and very complicated, where animals produce venom, and others eat very poisonous food, while others use the poison in a manner that is both elegant and cruel to get the benefits.

For the worn-out, hopeless, and mostly-starving survivors, what is a constant danger is nothing but the cycle of life, Vesta’s very logic of existence, a cycle that is at the same time beautiful, horrifying, and not caring at all about humans’ concept of security or ethics. Survival is a matter of dodging pain and a performance with the planet’s ruthless, stunning intricacy, a daily bargaining with a realm that is neither ally nor enemy but entirely what it is.

It might be that we root for the humans, but if we look at the whole cosmic accounting, they are more than an unwanted and disruptive species. Scavengers Reign paints a picture of a future where mankind dominates the cosmos with the same extractive arrogance was once used on Earth, an infinite spread of riches to be harvested, mined, and sold. The castaways we follow are commercial clerks on a money-making fleet, losing out on an ill-considered, engineered, and overly-efficient star-shortcut meant to gather both efficiency and revenue from even the cosmos.

However, Vesta is not the planet that gets dominated. The individuals come out winners in every way. Here, they are not the ones who are the strongest or the smartest, but the ones who are ready to give in, to change their ways, and to be in tune with the rhythms of the alien nature.

Some people manage to live together, get in step with the planet’s strange logic, and some, like Levi, whose wiring has almost become a part of the local flora, go beyond even the classification of human-animal-plant and become a picturesque, tumultuous life along with Vesta life.

Of course, excessive closeness with a foreign ecosystem can lead to an absurd scenario. Think of the silent, unexpressive, frog- or newt-like creature that lives by hypnotically persuading other animals to bring it food. In a case of cosmic irony, it attaches itself to Kamen, embroiling him in its scheme of natural exploitation. He provides for its needs, not realizing every gift makes the creature larger and hungrier, until it turns into a huge, greedy, and quietly dangerous monster, gigantic, ravenous, and totally captivating in its silent threat.

Originally conceived as a short film, Scavengers Reign has been transformed into a full series totally changes its original character. It loses some of its tranquil meditative quality, but not all, the experimental look and feel of the movie coming through in the tense, mesmerizing survival journey, although it does admit to being less active in the second part.

Still, the main attraction of the series is the beautiful and imaginative visuals and the wonderful biological curiosities: stalks look like reeds and produce strange, melodious sounds when their movement is disturbed, but at the same time, they can drive off intruders by shooting with their sharp spikes. It is just like the organisms, it fascinates, it captivates, it puts the audience into a state of wonder, but it can still hurt, and to pierce, and to remind us even the most impressive things have their risky side.

References

• Bennett, J., & Huettner, C. (Creators). (2023). Scavengers Reign [TV series]. Max/Netflix.
• Rice, L. (2022). HBO Max Orders “Scavengers Reign” to Series; Adult Animated Sci‑Fi to Premiere in 2023. Deadline.
• Spry, J. (2023). Savage Planet: How “Scavengers Reign” Creators Evolved Their Acclaimed Short into a Thrilling Sci‑Fi Series. Animation Magazine.
• Webster, A. (2023). Max’s Scavengers Reign Captures the Beauty and Terror of a Truly Alien World. The Verge.
• Poniewozik, J. (2023). Review: “Scavengers Reign” Is a Gorgeous, Hypnotic Space Trip. The New York Times.
• White, A. (2023). How Max’s “Scavengers Reign” Created an Animated Series Like “Nothing You’ve Ever Seen.” The Hollywood Reporter.