Angelus News | July 19-26, 2019 | Vol. 4 No. 26

light on the underreported gravity of
this disaster, which released at least 40
times more radiation than the atomic
bomb on Hiroshima.
Ultimately, the film series succeeds
not just because of its shock factor,
its historical accuracy, or its ability
to present nuclear physical realities
in a straightforward way. Rather, the
appeal of “Chernobyl” rests upon the
fact that, extraterrestrial as it might
seem, it is an intensely human story.
The scientific intricacies, political
corruption, and societal effects of the
Chernobyl incident would be enough
to make for a fascinating documentary.
But this miniseries offers far more
than a history lesson by crafting characters
whose lives and struggles create
a compelling story.
We follow a firefighter (Adam
Nagaitis) who rushes to the scene the
night of the explosion, unaware of
the deadly radiation that has imbued
the air and debris. We accompany his
wife (Jessie Buckley), who frantically
searches for him in the hospital and
pushes past nurses to be at his bedside,
defying all safety warnings.
We encounter Valery Legasov (Jared
Harris), the chemist who recognizes
the lethal and immense damage
brought on by the explosion, and we
sense his desperation in the shadow of
the KGB (the former Russian secret
police and intelligence agency), and
Soviet officials, who try to downplay
the seriousness of the event.
Thanks to stellar acting performances
across the board, these characters
sustain the personal nature of the
story throughout the series, from the
frightening first episode that plunges
audiences into the power plant on that
fateful night, to the sobering testimonies
at the trial in the final episode.
“Chernobyl” compels viewers to accompany
these characters, to feel their
fear, uncertainty, loss, and eagerness
to set things right. It is this sense of
accompaniment which demonstrates
that even through film, a dramatic
and painful event can bind humans
together.
There are many moments in the series
that are gruesome and disturbing,
but the unfiltered depictions never
cross over to the perverted obsession
with pain and suffering seen in other
A scene from HBO’s “Chernobyl.”
films.
The characters suffer intensely, but do
so with particular dispositions, relationships,
and aspirations. Their complicated
stories make their suffering more
personal and more real, and therefore
compel the viewer to ponder it.
As we all know, suffering is hard to
experience and to witness, especially
when it is fueled by injustice, and
“Chernobyl” does not imply otherwise.
But somehow, suffering leaves
an indelible mark on the human personality
that, even if remedied, cannot
(and perhaps should not) be forgotten.
After all, human communities often
make it a point to recall painful events
of the past. Jews celebrate Passover,
Christians honor Good Friday, and
governments build museums commemorating
events like the Holocaust.
We inherit and pass on these memorials
as a resolution to never repeat
the evils that caused the suffering, but
also as a way to revere the people who
suffered. And sometimes, strangely
enough, the best way to revere them
is to share in their experience to the
extent that we can.
We tell the stories, we contemplate
poignant images of them, and we
write poems and plays to express how
they have touched us. Through our
attempts to taste that pain with those
who have gone before us, our tributes
become a participation and an intimate
connection.
That’s why watching a historical
drama like “Chernobyl” can be both
an intensely difficult and profoundly
contemplative experience. Viewers
come face-to-face with human weaknesses
not unfamiliar to many (fear,
pride, cowardice, deceit) but taken to
extremes, and witness the terrible consequences.
That experience provokes
pity and eagerness to make amends.
Offering a snapshot of suffering that
finds ways to point to hope, “Chernobyl”
delivers an unsettling but necessary
message. It might not be enjoyable
to watch, but it allows audiences
to not just observe human pain but to
ponder it, absorb it, and hopefully,
combat the evils that inflict it.
Sophia Buono is a Catholic writer
living in Arlington, Virginia.
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July 19-26, 2019 • ANGELUS • 27