“The Chernobyl explosion gave us the mythology of Chernobyl. The papers and magazines compete to see who can write the most frightening article. People who weren’t there like to be frightened. Everyone read about mushrooms the size of human heads, but no one actually found them. So, instead of writing, you should record. Document. Show me a fantasy novel about Chernobyl — there isn’t one! Because reality is far more fantastic.” — Anatoly Shimanskiy, journalist in Voices from Chernobyl

Chernobyl — the miniseries, after airing its 5 hours of grappling intrigue and stunning cinematography, has finished with a proverbial bang. The show has gotten an overwhelming amount of positive feedback, critics and viewers alike praising the beautiful efforts of the cast and crew to get such a hard account out on to our screens. And all done in such a tasteful, appropriate, and respectful manner. As a consequence, Chernobyl is now known as the highest-rated TV show on IMDb. We can argue about the validity of using IMDb as an absolute truth-telling source of information, but looking at the facts (the overwhelming positive response from people on the news, forums, social media, in articles, videos or even in your inner circle), one cannot deny the show’s deep, elucidating effect on people. This production is the closest telling of what actually happened in real life and in people’s hearts around the time of the nuclear accident. It stands as a tragic homage for the world to see and learn from.

Its success, at least in my opinion, does not lie only in it respecting the classical character-plot-drama triangle that TV shows generally try to spin around. This is not a show that puts drama for the sake of drama forward (in the words of the Chernobyl writer himself, the story on its own is dramatic enough), nor does it try to be flashy and/or excessively moralistic. It neither tries to cut corners, nor does it embellish facts or scenes in an exhibitionist way. What it ends up doing is going above and beyond in its storytelling, acting dedication, and production quality. It gracefully chose to tell the truth, as close as anyone has ever attempted, about a cautionary tale that is desperately needed in our times. To sum up people’s most popular opinions about the series, Chernobyl manages to give us an eye-opening, fascinating story, surrounded by an aura of authenticity, respect, maturity, compassion, and genuine curiosity.

If watched properly, you cannot not be touched and transformed by the story and the heartbreaking human sacrifice that inspired the series in the first place. Chernobyl has managed to give us something back, something that we have very much missed — a mindset of bravery and truth-seeking, mixed with a deeper look into the human spirit.

I think you can tell by now how excited I am and was about the series rolling out. Coming out of the Game of Thrones haze, I had pretty low expectations about this new HBO production (and honestly, after GoT, who can blame me?). But the theme itself intrigued me #curiousEasternEuropean, and boy oh boy, did the show deliver. Episode after episode, I felt deeper for the story and the people that had to go through what can only be described as an invisible hell. I would like to humbly commemorate the incredible events and celebrate the dedicated artistic efforts of the series cast and crew with my own take on what brought the show to such a masterpiece level. There are quite some things to be said, hence why you are currently reading Part 1 of a series of thoughts and reflections about the show and its creation. That being said, I hope you all watched Chernobyl and are ready to dive deeper into its analysis. Ready, set, go!

So, what made the show so good?

The first thing that we need to talk about is what essentially forms the core of any cinematographic production, and that is the story. In the case of Chernobyl, Craig Mazin, the writer, producer and creator of the TV drama, chose one of the heaviest and most complex events to put into words and drop onto screens. Happening in 1986 Soviet Ukraine, the Chernobyl nuclear accident is to this day one of the most impactful and doleful catastrophes in human history. Based on a flawed political system that encouraged misinformation and the spread of lies, a chain-reaction of bad moves and hastily-called decisions was set into motion around the activities at the Chernobyl power plant. On the 26th of April 1986, at 01:23:45, the fatal straw that broke the camel’s back happened when the powerplant’s Reactor 4 exploded, releasing “three million billion trillion bullets in the in the air we breathe, the water we drink, the food we eat” — in terms of radiation. It would be an event that would shock and shake up an entire world. To get an idea of the massive size of this accident, you should understand that almost all of Europe was in danger of being left uninhabitable. But because of the heroism and selflessness of those living in the USSR (and sometimes, thanks to the aiding vodka), the spread of radiation poisoning was contained. Unfortunately, too many lives were sacrificed as a result of the accident and its aftermath, and too few questions have actually been answered by the Soviet propaganda system, even up to this day.

But one nagging, powerful question laid constantly on top of everybody’s minds with regard to this horrible accident: “Why did Chernobyl happen in the first place?” And this is the exact question that prompted Craig Mazin to start searching for answers.

What we got is the result of years of research, interviews, talks, visits, and writing which brought the writer closer to having an answer. In his own words, the truth he discovered was for him more shocking than the actual explosion.

In the end, the Chernobyl accident happened because of lies.

Here is where we can find the clue that unlocks the full TV show experience. You see, this overarching theme of lies pushing something like Chernobyl out into the world forms the central aspect of the story. But it doesn’t only stay enclosed within the narrative. The beauty of the show is exactly that it manages to have a real impact on people who are today dealing with the same aura of disbelief and misinformation, just in different conditions and at a different scale. This truth-seeking and truth-respecting credo became the mantra behind the whole production. In the words of the writer himself, “we had a general standing philosophy from the beginning, which was: Accuracy is everything to us. I wanted people in Ukraine and Russia and Belarus to watch this show and say, ‘You see us; you saw us; thank you for that.’ As opposed to, ‘This is just some American’s fever dream of what Soviet citizenry was like.’”

The cost of lies spoke very deeply to the writer and producers. The same attitude spread among the whole cast and crew, who worked with this drive for authenticity and respect for the raw material. There are plenty of accounts from the Chernobyl actors witnessing the impact of the scenes they were filming in the crew itself, which was largely made of Lithuanians and Ukrainians. As cast members recalled, the crew was much more informed about “what things looked like, how people spoke, the proximity of Russia, how scary it all was, how volatile that world still is.” What the team was filming and witnessing wasn’t fiction, it was fact, part of many people’s past. This is one of the reasons why the story spoke so much to audiences from all around the world. For some, Chernobyl represents the discovery of a gruesome and unimaginable story. For others, it hits too close to home. Things get more real when you realize that this event didn’t happen that long ago. We are still seeing and feeling the silent consequences of the power plant accident.

One other element that drew us in the story was its pace and its natural way of unfolding. The focus of the narrative was all the time pinned on the human element. How would we have reacted in Lyudmila’s place, would we have hugged our loved one, despite being warned about it? How could anybody deal with a catastrophe of that size that has never happened anywhere else on the planet? How did people deal with party politics, when it went against them? With each episode, we learn more about the different nuances of the human soul. Some people make sacrificial and selfless decisions, some out of blind love, some out of blind heroism, and others because they know there is no other way to fix what is right in front of them. Some are just following the rules, some wake up and start bending reality. And many would be sacrificed in the name of salvation #biorobots.

And that is, in my opinion, one of Chernobyl’s strongest points: it showed us people who did things because that was what mattered at the time. Not for shock value, not for viewing pleasure. We have been desperately missing that in today’s storytelling projects, most of which are trying too hard to squeeze every bit of feeling out of our amygdala, just for the sake of it — and box-office profit. But here, things were different. The writer made more space for the story and less for dramatization. We saw twists and turns for the better that made sense (Legasov transforming from a party man into someone who couldn’t spread propaganda lies anymore), we saw competence and real fierceness in the face of blind authoritarianism (as seen in Ulana Khomyuk), we saw acts of love (Lyudmila), and acts of smart defiance (the miners). Not all actions got people to a better place, because this is not a story with a happy ending. I mean, the main character of the series kills himself in the first 10 minutes of the show. Lyudmila pays dearly for her caring radioactive hugs by giving birth to a baby girl that would die after the first 4 hours of her life. And tens of thousands, if not millions of lives are changed forever.

And this fact is fascinating, especially from a storytelling perspective. A narrative where people had the right intentions and it didn’t end well for them. But the story ends up being bitter-sweetly satisfying exactly because of what some of our characters did. For example, the decision to stand up in front of chaos and face it head-first, was still the right thing to do. As engineer Akimov from Chernobyl’s Reactor 4 put it, “we did everything right” — this statement makes us, the audience, nod in awe and respect to these people’s efforts. Maybe not from a logical perspective (Lyudmila, why on Earth are you touching your deadly radioactive husband???), but from a human one.

That was and is the magic of this show. It made us feel. And most importantly, through the intense emotional experience, it made us leap into a deeper sense of consciousness and humanity.

Through this, the show opened up the possibility for us to personally transform.

Every good storyteller knows that the true essence of storytelling is transformation. Evolutionary biologists credit this technique as the unique ability that allowed our species to evolve, generation after generation.

That is what the Chernobyl story is doing to us, right now.

There are quite some lessons that storytellers and story-lovers can draw from how this HBO series has been executed, inside and outside the screen.

For story crafters, here are some of the main elements that make the closest version of storytelling heaven:

having an insanely precise and thought-through vision from the start — this will guide the entire creative process, from the writing until what books should be placed on the shelf behind the main character in a scene, aka from the big picture to the nitty-gritty;

understanding what kind of story you have in your hands and, together with the vision, inspiring a certain culture in your production team (cast included) — that allows you to get closer to the core of the story — this effort will transgress the screen in a very good way;

doing the research — can’t stress that enough — you should check how much time Craig Mazin spent on getting everything right with this show;

don’t go for more than the story has to offer — whether we are talking about drama, effects, bizarre over-explanatory dialogue and even seasons — Chernobyl, although great, would have felt gratuitous if it spanned for more episodes or seasons than it has;

be excited by your story, but not blinded — egos at the door, let your story speak, it’s much more powerful for the audience.

Speaking about the audience, there are some good lessons for us, too:

we are what we consume — all the books, podcasts, movies, series, random YouTube videos, they all shape our ability to think — they condense or stretch our knowledge and our sense of self — so be mindful, critical, and selective regarding what you take in;

let’s understand the importance of storytelling more — which also translates into “let’s sharpen our critical thinking about what we are watching” (which is not the same as becoming more proficient in troll language) — understanding the medium and what it is supposed to do offers us more agency and involvement in what we are actually watching — it transforms us from consumers into participants;

think — because lack of thinking will lead you to be like this lady, who thought that complaining about the Chernobyl cast being mostly comprised of all-white men was a good idea…* wink, wink, Chernobyl is set in Soviet Ukraine, circa 1986. Mmmyes, what is this history and culture you are talking about? — but you get the idea.

Some of these lessons will be distilled in some later articles from “The story that we needed” series because they are important.

If you’ve paid attention to the current storytelling zeitgeist, especially around the heaps of content that are being thrown at us, then you’ve noticed that something is off. Stories like Chernobyl make us better understand what we have missed this whole time: something true, something more human. We don’t want just another X-men movie, we want a proper narrative that makes a point, that guides us to be a better version of ourselves. We are tired of receiving mediocre content. So maybe the 2019 lesson that this series has to offer, apart from our own personal discoveries, is that stories really do matter. And their impact should not be underestimated. On the contrary, it should be respected and celebrated.