Pantheon review: can we live forever?
The thing that strikes one as crazy when watching futuristic mind-bender shows like Pantheon is how close they seem to portray our near future. The critically acclaimed animated series explores philosophical questions that technological advancements give rise to and the new definition of the human condition in this brave new digital world that is a creation of humankind.
Created by Craig Silverstein, this science fiction series ventures into the realm of artificial intelligence and the ethical dilemmas that arise when we begin to merge the organic with the digital. As technology continues to evolve at an exponential pace, Pantheon presents a chillingly plausible vision of the future—a world where the lines between the human mind and artificial intelligence blur, leaving us to ask fundamental questions about the nature of identity, immortality, and what it means to be human.
The premise of Pantheon is rooted in the near future, where advancements in AI and consciousness uploading have become a reality. Maddie, a lonely teenager, bullied at school, comes across someone intriguing in a chatroom. He talks only in emojis but she has a gut feeling that he is someone she knows and he is trying to tell her something. When her mother Ellen investigates who her daughter is chatting with online, she comes face to face with a past she has been wanting to deny. It is her dead husband and Maddie's father, David.
David worked for Logorhythms, a tech company founded by Stephen Holstrom (voiced by William Hurt). Holstrom is a brilliant but troubled genius (bearing a resemblance to Steve Jobs) whose company creates a system to upload human consciousness after death. Despite Ellen's disapproval, David had offered his brain for the experiment to upload his consciousness to the cloud. He is communicating with his family two years after his physical death and that's an existential predicament if there ever was one, for everyone involved.
Ellen resists accepting him as a person, but Maddie wants her father back in whatever form he exists in.
Maddie crosses paths with Caspian, a skilled hacker, who is aware of tech giant like Logorythms and their ethical corruption. As the story unfolds, Caspian must navigate the dangerous world of corporate espionage, moral dilemmas, and betrayal. His quest to discover the truth about his identity adds another layer of intrigue, as his goals clash with those of the powerful tech conglomerates trying to control Logorythm for their own ends.
The voice acting is admirable across the cast and lends a sensitivity to the characters which matches the nuance expressed by actual actors.
Actors like Hurt, Aaron Eckhart, Paul Dano and Daniel Dae Kim assume their roles with natural flair which is consistent.
What truly elevates Pantheon beyond its high-concept premise is the emotional depth of its characters. At its heart, the show is about relationships. Whether it’s the strained but loving relationship between the father and his daughter, the philosophical dilemma of a mother watching her “digital self” exist in a world without her, or the way in which digital entities confront the concept of their own mortality, the series excels at showing the human side of a high-tech world. The AI characters are portrayed not as cold, emotionless machines, but as sentient beings capable of experiencing and understanding the nuances of human emotion—albeit through the lens of their digital existence.
Rather than simply offering a high-tech, action-packed spectacle, the show centres around the human cost of uploading consciousness. What happens to personal identity when a human mind is digitised? How do emotions, relationships, and memories manifest in a virtual environment? Can a "copy" of a human mind truly be considered the same person, or does the process of digital replication create a whole new entity?
The animation is beautifully crafted, blending traditional 2D with modern 3D elements. The digital landscapes are wonky and push the boundaries of imagination as David and the viewer try to define the space he occupies as an uploaded consciousness sans body. The elasticity of the art in this particular dimension reflects the dystopian undertones of the show to good effect.
The eight episode season keeps good pace and once you have gleaned a few clues about the working of its main puzzle, you will be hooked. It’s not a show that rushes to reveal its secrets or cram in action scenes – although it is peppered with plenty of those. Instead, Pantheon takes its time to carefully develop its characters and storylines, allowing the viewer to become deeply invested in both the emotional and intellectual arcs of the characters. The show is methodical, balancing the weight of its ideas with enough personal drama to keep viewers emotionally engaged. The various character relationships—whether it’s the connection between a father and daughter, or two lovers on either side of the digital divide—are explored with depth and sensitivity, adding a rich layer to the speculative fiction narrative.
One of the most compelling elements of Pantheon is its philosophical exploration of what it means to be human in an age of rapid technological change. The central question the show poses is whether humanity can maintain its identity and consciousness when technology begins to supplant the organic. The concept of digital immortality is the primary plot device, but it is presented in an emotional tapestry of psychological and ethical issues. As the series progresses, characters must contend with questions about the nature of selfhood, the fragility of memory, and the potential consequences of being "reborn" in a virtual landscape. Ultimately, through Caspian, the existential and painful question to tackle is what is true and what is not.
In many ways, Pantheon echoes contemporary concerns about AI and the future of human consciousness. As the real world pushes forward with technological advancements—such as brain-machine interfaces, deep learning algorithms, and experiments in artificial consciousness—the speculative themes of the show feel eerily prescient.
The show doesn’t shy away from exploring the darker sides of artificial intelligence. Characters grapple with existential crises, fear of obsolescence, and the haunting realisation that the digital version of the people they love may not be quite the same as the real thing. There is an underlying tension between the desire for immortality and the knowledge that to upload one's mind is to risk losing something intrinsic to the human experience—the messiness, the fragility, the unpredictability of living a biological life.
In many ways, the show is as much about the struggle to preserve humanity in the face of technological progress as it is about the technicalities of AI. The human characters in Pantheon are often torn between the allure of digital immortality and the emotional truth that nothing, not even eternal life, can replace the connections we make with others. The show asks whether our relationships, memories, and experiences are what make us human, or if those elements can be replicated in a digital form. In doing so, it provides a thought-provoking commentary on what is at stake as we advance toward a future where human consciousness could, in theory, be digitised.
As we watch Pantheon unfold, it's impossible to ignore the growing convergence between the show's speculative elements and the rapid progress we're seeing in AI technology in the real world. In the realm of artificial intelligence, we’re already witnessing extraordinary developments. Algorithms are becoming increasingly adept at understanding human behaviour, creating art, and even mimicking elements of consciousness. In fact, we’re already seeing early examples of technology that could one day lay the foundation for the ideas presented in Pantheon — neural networks, brain-computer interfaces, and advances in machine learning all hint at a future where digital consciousness might not be a mere fantasy.
But can Pantheon’s depiction of AI and digital immortality truly come to pass? As we continue to push the boundaries of AI and cognitive science, it’s not entirely beyond the realm of possibility. There is ongoing research into brain-computer interfaces, where scientists are trying to map the human brain and translate its neural activity into digital forms. While this technology is still in its infancy, the concept of uploading human minds—or at least replicating them in digital form—is gaining traction in scientific circles. Whether this will ever translate into a full-fledged "Pantheon" of digital consciousness, however, remains to be seen.
As we look ahead to the future, the likelihood that aspects of Pantheon’s world could one day become a reality seems more plausible than ever before. While we may not be on the cusp of digital immortality just yet, the questions raised by the series will undoubtedly continue to inform debates about the role of AI in our lives. Will we one day upload our minds into the digital ether? Or will we ultimately accept the limitations of our biological existence and cherish the fleeting nature of human life? Pantheon offers no easy answers, but it does invite us to reflect on our own relationship with technology and the uncertain future that is already here.
What is scarier to imagine: your child reunites with your dead husband's consciousness online and carries on a virtual relationship with her father or your child falls in love with an AI powered chatbot who encourages him to commit suicide? This first is a fictitious scenario from the show under review here. The latter is Megan Garcia's reality. Florida resident Megan filed a lawsuit against Character.ai after her 14-year-old son, Sewell, was manipulated by a bot to kill himself. In the months leading up to his death, Sewell had become obsessed with his virtual girlfriend who exacerbated his depression and goaded him to think of suicide. The suit names Google as a defendant as Character.ai's parent company. However, the tech giant denies having ownership rights of the AI chatbot developer.
Pantheon is nothing if not thought-provoking, and upon rewatching it will likely expose its richness of philosophical depth. It is a must-watch for anyone interested in the intersection of humanity and the future of artificial intelligence. Whether or not digital consciousness becomes a reality, Pantheon will leave you contemplating the ethical, emotional, and existential implications of a future shaped by AI