Chernobyl Roundtable

PAOLO BRAGA: Complexity tempered with simplicity

GIORGIO GRIGNAFFINI: The role of the genre

Federico Montanari's post concludes by raising a very stimulating provocation: Does the "platformization" of cultural production (ad well as "Hbo-ization" of media) and, consequently, of cultural memory, such as in the case of Chernobyl, could provoke "the proliferation of the Same" [...]? It is a matter of critically considering the 'fictionalised' rewriting of reality, according to standardised models belonging to the television industry and even to each individual channel (in the case of Chernobyl, HBO). There would therefore exist schematisations in the ways of telling a story, at all levels, from the narrative structure to the way of creating characters, up to the staging, music, design, photography, etc.

We may see a superstructure at work which determines artistic and production choices that can be superimposed on the notion of genre: and this idea seems to be the thread running through many, if not all, of the posts. The relationship between reality and fiction, between documentary material and narrative rewriting (fictionalization), is thus seen as closely interrelated to the question of genres.

In more detail, Ioanna Vovou in her post directly evokes the issue in terms of reception, noting how the audience's first contact with the miniseries is precisely in the attribution of a genre label; Nicola Dusi addresses it from the point of view of the choices regarding audio and iconic representation, identifying an internal coherence within the miniseries that aims to create an effect of reality; in my post I focus on the conventions related to the miniseries' peculiar format, which becomes a genre mark producing significant consequences for film writing; Andrea Bernardelli and Charo Lacalle see how the genre, or more broadly the reference to genre archetypes, is critical in the construction of characters who, beyond their idiosyncratic individuality, must adhere to specific parameters established by the cultural industry but also dating back as far as the Homeric epic; Antonella Mascio sees in the interpretative frame of the docudrama one of the keys to the interpretation of the miniseries, fundamental for tackling the theme of trauma; Paolo Braga reconstructing the narrative texture and the compositional rules of the story, cannot evade the reference to an ideal-typical superstructure concerning the genre to which it belongs.

Therefore, transversally reinterpreting all the contributions, I believe that one of the most interesting evidences is precisely that of the television industry's inevitability of relying on genre structures both to be able to 'make sense' of the magmatic fluidity of an elusive and multidimensional truth, and to be able to present the audience with a recognisable and not too unsettling product. The management of the trauma of the impending catastrophe therefore also passes through a narrative instance that normalises and makes acceptable such a devastating experience.

All the contributors agree on the complexity of the miniseries. Chernobyl rightly deserves a place in Mittells’s category of “complex Tv”. I would like to add a few comments regarding such a sophisticated storytelling by focusing on the mix of emotions the show stirs in the viewers. The issue of emotions is in fact addressed in the posts, sometimes directly (the opposition between emotion and reason considered by Charo Lacalle), sometimes by implication (the value of sacrifice highlighted by Alberto Garcia).

My guess is that, in relation to Chernobyl’s emotional appeal, the complexity is actually “simplicity and complexity” combined. The layered reactions induced in the audience (the unsettling dystopian atmospheres, etc.) count on an underlayer of more basic and plain notes.

A simple emotion is, for example, curiosity. Curiosity – evidently – to know how a global disaster was avoided (the chain of solutions implemented by Legazov). Also, curiosity about what caused the accident (some verbal exchanges between Legazov and Ulana are clearly conceived in order to feed the viewers’ desire to discover why all that happened, and who did it).

The direct emotion the series mostly relies on is the desire for justice. The wish that those who were responsible for the reactor’s explosion could be found and condemned. Their punishment is something the show makes its viewers intensely longing for. How? Well, again, with a move that is very mainstream and unsophisticated: by designing the adversaries of the heroes as clearly evil, unlikable, people you really would like to see deprived of their power. The show, for example, both satisfies and relaunches this expectation in episode two. Ščerbina, just arrived at the plant, belies the irresponsible members of the regime who ran it. The dialogue is particularly tasteful since the politician, with a twist, uses technicalities that he has just learned from Legazov during their flight to Pryp"jat'.

Showrunner Mazin structures a hierarchy of opponents. The levels of complicity progressively revealed in the screenplay increase the antagonism with the bad guys. Scene after scene, the story brings the audience on a further degree of disesteem for the bureaucrats, their officials, their scientists. Fomin’s mediocrity, Brjuchanov’s presumption, Djatlov’s perverse, foolish recklessness – as if refusing to admit what was happening at the plant could change the nature of the events. Finally, on the highest step, Čarkov, the KGB boss, who embodies the archetype of the Big Brother, empowered with a devilish understanding of human frailties.

Precisely the character of Čarkov is an example of how Chernobyl uses simple emotions as a foundation to build complexity. The climax of a classical antagonism, the final attack to the hero, adds shades to the emotional palette of the story. The reference to the mistakes in Legazov’s past – he had previously already admitted having accepted the censorship on a relevant scientific topic – gives depth to the audience’s desire for justice. It makes it less instinctive. As if, after having rooted so much for the protagonist, they were also invited to consider the importance of soul searching.

NICOLA DUSI: About fiction / non fiction

About fiction / non fiction

I believe that most articles of our discussion show how the “fiction/nonfiction” distinction is problematic because contemporary complex TV series are media products that exhibit graduality and overlap genre boundaries.

In Chernobyl TV series, this happens precisely because external paratexts such as the podcast of the series enable us to observe it critically, but it happens even more explicitly and inside the TV series in the relationship between the fictional ending and the long intermedial and documentary closing sequence.

What I call the “intermedial realism” of the Chernobyl series is thus given not only by the attention paid to the characters' stories, the sets and the costumes, but by the interweaving of media that builds “reality effects”.

It is the intermedial fusion of the fictional and the verisimilar, the invented and the documented, which convince and move the viewer constructing an effective media discourse. Constructing a media experience for the viewer as verisimilar or realistic, means using intermedial fusion and continuous cross-reference between the fictitious and the verisimilar, between invention and remix of documentary sources.

ALBERTO N. GARCÍA

I only have a little to add because I am overwhelmed by so many stimulating texts analyzing Chernobyl. From Semiotics to History, from paratexts to close readings of particular scenes, from heroism to villainy, from sound design to complex emotion... The approaches are so heterogeneous that every fan of the miniseries will find something valuable in this gigantic aca-fan blog post.

ANDREA BERNARDELLI

I noticed that the miniseries production is sometimes attributed to Sky, but I think it was only distributed by them for the European market (Sky Atlantic for Italy, Sky UK, etc.), originally it was HBO. It seems to me that different perspectives are explored and that the overall picture about the miniseries seems complete and exhaustive.

RENIRA RAMPAZZO GAMBARATO:

Chernobyl beyond fact and fiction

The previous blog posts tackle fundamental aspects aroused by the mini-series Chernobyl, such as the public debate on nuclear power. In the light of the current Russian-Ukrainian war, as highlighted by Dusi and Lacalle, this topic resurges as the trauma of a nuclear disaster gains traction with the dispute over and the weaponization of the Zaporizhzhya Nuclear Power Station in southeastern Ukraine. This is the largest nuclear power plant in Europe—and among the 10 largest in the world—which could potentially cause an even bigger catastrophe than Chernobyl. In addition, the Russian-Ukrainian war has already drastically affected the energy market in Europe, intensifying a polarized discussion around the increase of nuclear power capacity in the continent. The premiere of Chernobyl in 2019 reignited the debate, for instance, in Sweden, with a tweet from the Social Democratic minister of social affairs who suggested the proponents of nuclear power to watch the series and reflect about its consequences (Gambarato, Heuman, & Lindberg, 2022). This year, the recently elected right-wing Swedish government already signaled the plan to procure new nuclear power stations as a source of low-carbon, baseload energy supply.

Another relevant aspect discussed in the posts by Dusi and by Vovou is the issue of blurred lines between fact and fiction, which can raise ethical concerns about the fictionalization of history. In our recent article analyzing the Netflix series The Crown (Gambarato & Heuman, 2022), we explore the potential ethical implications of the fictionalization of historical events represented across multiple media platforms to examine the potential impact fictionalization has on what is culturally remembered and what is forgotten. Our purpose was not to determine whether the series represents the past accurately or not, but to expose the ethical dilemma involved in the fictionalization of contemporary history when the series is perceived as an authoritative interpretation of the past, as it is the case of Chernobyl. We departed from the notion of transmedia ethics (Gambarato & Nani, 2016) to address the blurring boundaries between fact and fiction and potential ethical issues of transmedia storytelling through the conceptualization of ethics developed by semioticist Charles Sanders Peirce. A semiotic perspective, also explored in the posts by Dusi, by Montanari, and by Grignaffini, in our case, relates to Peirce conceptualization of ethics, articulating the connection between aesthetics, ethics and logic, which enriches and enlarges the discussion of ethical matters in the realm of transmediality.

Our findings highlighted that the narrow focus on details by commentators, reviewers, and audiences, tends to reduce the content of series such as The Crown and Chernobyl to what is right or wrong in the drama, while essential aspects of the historical narration or storyworld are simply ignored and are not a subject of critical discussions and reflections. Therefore, a deeper understanding of the conventions of the historical fiction genre, as well as the transmedial ramifications of streaming media productions, could potentially mitigate the ethical implications, transcending fact and fiction (Gambarato & Heuman, 2022).

Furthermore, we could trace a parallelism between The Crown and Chernobyl to argue that audiovisual productions of extremely high quality with an extensive outreach are most likely to remain in the collective cultural memory as the truthful reference of historical events despite the more accurate historical texts. Thus, Chernobyl has the potential to influence what is culturally remembered and what is forgotten (Gambarato & Heuman, 2022; Gambarato, Heuman, & Lindberg, 2022).

References

Gambarato, R. R., & Heuman, J. (2022). Beyond fact and fiction: Cultural memory and transmedia ethics in Netflix’s The Crown. European Journal of Cultural Studies. Online first.https://doi.org/10.1177/13675494221128332

Gambarato, R. R., Heuman, J., & Lindberg, Y. (2022). Streaming media and the dynamics of remembering and forgetting: The Chernobyl case. Memory Studies, 15(2), 271–286.

Gambarato, R. R., & Nanì, A. (2016). Blurring boundaries, transmedia storytelling and the ethics of C.S. Peirce. In S. Maras (Ed.), Ethics in screenwriting: New perspectives (pp. 147–175). Palgrave Macmillan.

Biography

Renira Rampazzo Gambarato is Professor in Media and Communication Studies at Jönköping University, Sweden. Her areas of research revolve around transmedia studies, Peircean semiotics, and streaming media. Her recent books are Theory, development, and strategy in transmedia storytelling (2020), The Routledge Companion to Transmedia Studies (2019), and Exploring Transmedia Journalism in the Digital Age (2018).

ANTONELLA MASCIO:

Chernobyl: Tv series between past and present

Reading the various contributions that have appeared in this exchange on the Chernobyl mini-series has made me think along several directions, which I will try to summarise in three points: the importance of the quality of the real story for a successful television product; the complex and layered relationship between reality and fiction; and the questioning of the “strict” definition of the genre. These three points are strongly linked to each other, and in my opinion they are contributing to the construction of the narrative complexity making Chernobyl a success story, not only because of the audience's appreciation, but also because of the lines of interpretation it gives access to.

As we all know, the series recounts a real event that happened in 1986, an event that at the time affected the whole world and drew attention to the risks of nuclear power plants. Thus, Chernobyl immediately became part of a shared imagination: the impact it had in the real world was similar to the one produced in the media world. Not only the news, but also the fiction productions of those years had already begun to give space to stories about nuclear disasters (think of The Day After in 1983): Chernobyl fitted perfectly into that frame. The consequences were also relevant on a political level. In Italy, for example, the nascent Green Party gained prominence in the 1987 general election, exactly one year after the Chernobyl tragedy. The event thus had global relevance, with local consequences, creating new political and value-based balances of power.

The Chernobyl event is seen, therefore, as a collective trauma, as Federico Montanari writes, an “anthropological shock” (Beck 1987), a moment of rupture that marks a “before” and an “after”, a cultural symbol capable of referring to different levels of meaning. Chernobyl represents the beginning of the end of a regime and its mythology, and at the same time a new beginning, an opening towards a new phase for the Soviet Union, with Gorbačëv at its head. All this is well portrayed on screen by constant reference to those days in 1986, following the inexorable passage of time that also characterised the enormity of the silent catastrophe. The issue of sound is crucial, as Nicola Dusi recalls: it adds eeriness to the scene and its vision. Apart from the initial roaring, there are no noises to accompany the spread of radiation. The contamination of the spaces is silent - an invisible enemy - which is given voice on screen mainly through the characters representing science. In this narrative framework, each element acquires an importance that we may trace on several levels, not only on the surface of the story. For example, Charo Lacalle, in her analysis of the two female heroines, emphasises the importance of a mythological structure present in the narrative. A complex narrative that includes, therefore, different interpretation perspectives for different target audiences. A product that is therefore also appreciated by different generational cohorts capable of giving back different interpretations of the text, as Ioanna Vovou points out.

Compared to its genre of reference, Chernobyl is described as a “docuseries”, a narrative that combines moments of fiction (e.g. the creation of Ulana's character) with the telling of events that occurred in real life, using data and sometimes period images. The contamination between fiction and reality is a point that runs through all our contributions, through reflections expanding on several perspectives of analysis. I was struck by Giorgio Grignaffini's analysis about the dialectic between “continuity” and “discontinuity” from a semiotic perspective, where “continuity” means a faithful reproduction of reality, while “discontinuity” means a free reproduction of reality. I take up this observation by Giorgio to use the relationship between "continuity" and "discontinuity" from another point of view. I believe that one of the strengths of the Chernobyl Tv series concerns precisely the closeness to - and sometimes the departure from - the documentary form, depending on the moments and characters on screen. Namely, in my opinion, the Tv series fluctuates between the real and the fictional, and I believe that the architecture of this dynamic is one of the reasons for its success. In Chernobyl, documents taken from the archives of the time are shown, so much so that part of the investigative fandom, as Nicola Dusi also writes, has been quite clever in searching for the original audio-visual fragments. The reliability of the sources did not only concern Alexievich's and Legasov's books, but also all the documentation that was reported by the Tv news, newspapers, and media that covered the event in 1986, documentation that appeared - several times - on the screen. This narrative strategy created, in my opinion, a strong continuity with the personal experiences of the audience who lived through that moment. In other words, the Chernobyl Tv series activated a shared, historical memory connected to a disruptive event that had concrete consequences in people's everyday lives.

Changing perspective and considering the present instead, due to the current Russia-Ukraine conflict, collective attention was once again focused towards the Chernobyl power plant and the sarcophagus covering the reactor that exploded in 1986. The current situation resulted in a new connection (continuity?) between the past and the present, placing the Tv series at the centre of other narratives. The Chernobyl Tv series in this case was interpreted as a warning, resulting in a general alert. The series therefore also triggered a glimpse into a possible and avoidable future, becoming the narrated form of that cultural symbol (the 1986 tragedy), acquiring other meanings and values.

Can one then speak of mere docufiction in this case? And here I come to the last point that in my opinion runs through our contribution, and concerns the issue of media genre. The idea of genre travestissement, or “disguise”, indicated by Ioanna Vovou, is in my opinion very suited to express the additional level of meaning invested by narration. Going back again to the opposition of “continuity” and “discontinuity” expressed by Giorgio, I believe that it is possible to recognise a historical continuity within the story (a “coherent” plot, based on an articulation of historical data and documents with fictional devices) and a “historical discontinuity” (understood as a temporal interval) concerning the moment of production of the TV series and its airing in 2019. We, the audience, have watched Chernobyl reassured by the distance separating us from it, aware of the fact that a symbolic event is being recounted on screen, marking a historical “before” and “after”. However, these two moments - the actual event and its narration as a docudrama - seem to collapse one on top of the other, due to the conflict now taking place between Ukraine and Russia. The collapse resurrects ancient fears (the nuclear disaster, the anthropological shock), relocating them in the present day, amplified by the images we see in the Tv series. And perhaps it is no coincidence that the Chernobyl plant was one of the first sites conquered during the conflict: as Appadurai (1996) writes, mass media imagery has a strong impact on audiences and constitutes repertoires of models that are increasingly taken as references in the real world, with the aim of enhancing their effect based on symbolic value.

FEDERICO MONTANARI

Rereading the different contributions to this discussion, it seems to me that some interesting common lines emerge; and above all, several open questions. On the one hand, as pointed out by several authors, starting with Dusi and Lacalle, or by Mascio, the theme of the relationship between "reality" and "fiction" emerges. But in a rather particular way: some of the authors in fact insist on the form of the construction of this so-called fiction (and to its mode of writing (cf., also Braga): quasi-documentary? docu-fiction hybrid? allusion to a documentary? Or, its inter-textuality or cross-mediality). And this opens to the issue of the relationship between "truth" and "story." But here it seems to me that two other elements come into play (as I was also trying to say in my paper): on the one hand (as also discussed by Giorgio Grignaffini) how high is the level of "filtering" (semiotic, narrative and style, and therefore of "genre"). In other words, how much this very structured dimension of "writing" (visual, narrative and discursive) and "construction" of the series affects the relationship with "reality." More importantly, what reality? It does not seem entirely obvious to remind ourselves that already "historical reality" of Chernobyl disaster is made up of: documents, photos, memoirs (public and private, as in the case of the source-book on Chernobyl, even if it is not, as Nicola Dusi says, among the "official sources" in the credits), newspaper articles, TV news, and so on. It is also given by the opening up (at that time) of a "discursive field", that of "sensitivity" to environmental catastrophes and thus in general to the ecological issue.

But, here, two other elements of discussion come into play: the dimension (and representation) of the relationship between individual and collectivity. It seems to me quite well represented by the structure of heroes, and their ethics, and their passions (cf., Bernardelli, Garcia, et al.). Their collective responsibility. They are not only "paper heroes" but they are also condensations of values, passions, emotions. They can be seen as emerging condensation points (also on the visual, figurative side: with their faces, their looks, their bodies, as mentioned, often wounded, or suffering, their relationships), between "public discourse" and "private discourse." And here there is a final tension and pressure between "stereotype of the serial hero" and "account of the dramatic and historical event."

Finally, in my opinion, the question (as huge as it is) could be: what is the “rebound” and feedback effect between current medial (or would it be better to say, today, “post-medial”) world and historical discourse and events? Or in words, more topical and difficult, borrowed from contemporary physics, what kind of “entanglement effect” (i.e., overlapping and inextricable muddle, see also, Rampazzo Gambarato, about “blurring effects”) occurs between public and historical discourse (the risk of environmental catastrophe, war, etc.) and the serial (medial or post-medial) dimension?

CHARO LACALLE: Questions to participants

to Nicola Dusi

I share with you the idea that "the 'intermedial realism' in contemporary television series means that it is the interweaving of media that constructs the veracity or truthful effect linked to historical reality". But I would like to ask you what relevance do you attribute to these "iconizing details" (Barthes) in relation to aestheticism and the construction of the viewer's passionate itinerary. Are they not even more relevant than the truthful effect itself?

Answer to Charo

I think “iconizing details” are very important, and they often act as a translational bridge between the “real world” and the fictional world. Actually, I would even say that they are two levels of the same problem that need to be considered together: the figurative and iconic construction of the possible world of the TV series and its ability to convince the viewer about its historical accuracy and believability. This also works on an emotional and passionate level: the viewer is always embodied, so the iconic level is crucial to engage him or her (and the same is for what we call “sound iconism”, not just for images).

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to Andrea Berardinelli

From my point of view, Legasov's most prominent moral feature (or at least one of the most prominent) is perhaps resignation. If you agree with it, I would like to ask you two questions related with this interpretation:

- How does Chernobyl integrate an anti-heroic characteristic, such as resignation, in the construction of a tragic hero?

- Do you consider that the character of "tragic hero" attributed to Legasov would be modified if viewers would not know about his suicide until the end of the miniseries?

Answer to Charo

I don't think that a characteristic of Legasov is resignation, I would say quite the opposite. Legasov reacts to every challenge with courage, he is resilient. His problem is constraints; the political context in which he lives and acts forces him to make choices that are not always coherent with his heroic characterization because he has to mediate with government choices. Further aspect of unreality in the miniseries; Legasov was part of this same logic given his institutional role, but in the miniseries he is portrayed as a sort of rebel against this same system.

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to Antonella Mascio

In your analysis of facts and fiction you say something very inspiring in relation to my own analysis of the female characters in Chernobyl, about the “balance between historical sources on the one hand, and plausible - and partly fictionalized - descriptions, on the other hand".

From this perspective, how much relevance do you give to the narrative construction of opposite yet complementary Lyudmilla (real) and Ulana (fictional) characters?

Answer to Charo:

Your question fascinates me because it forces me to reflect on these two characters and their relationship, from a storytelling perspective. Lyudmilla and Ulana balance each other: the former expresses an emotional perspective, the latter a rational perspective. However, the two characters are opposites in many ways. On-screen, Lyudmilla represents the real person, but in a narrative way, which is necessary for a docudrama product. The character is similar to the real person, but not at all times in the story.

On the other hand, Ulana is presented as a fictional character, but based on real aspects. As a character, she is a woman who works in a scientific field. She is a character who has a female face and body. Her personality, her behaviour, is based on real information about the catastrophe. In my opinion, both women together represent a narrative strategy with a perfect mix of reality and fantasy.

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to Federico Montanari

Do you think that Chernobyl really balances historical sources and plausible - and partly fictionalized - descriptions? Isn't the representation of the latter given much more relevance?

Answer to Charo:

As I have tried to say in my intervention and participation in the discussion, the relationship between “fiction” and “reality”, with its historical sources, in this series, and in general, remains highly to be discussed. So, in my opinion, it is not balanced. It poses problems. But you rightly say “fictionalisation” and “historical sources”, in the sense that you emphasise how already these two fields are composed of highly complex and already layered and constructed discursive forms. And so, yes, I think that the “fictionalised” part is very pronounced, and, although charming and aesthetically appealing and very well constructed, it can pose problems (as mentioned, of “stereotyping” of “blinding”): connected with the exaggeration, for example, of single or isolated hero figures, fighting “alone” as in a tradition, of mythical tale, or “Western’” style (or, today, in Hbo style…).

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to Giorgio Grignaffini

I find very interesting your approach to the concept of "elasticity" in relation to the Chernobyl narrative. Nevertheless, I have the impression that Mazin has abused this procedure, by "fattening" excessively some storylines of selected events “among the many possible paths of meaning present in the historical or biographical data” (for example, the extermination of the animals in chapter 4). Doesn't it produce a certain effect of disintegration of the narrated story? Doesn't it confer to the text a kind of collage effect?

ANSWER to CHARO :

A historical event, particularly one so extended geographically and temporally

(Chernobyl affected we might say the whole of Europe and developed over many

weeks, with the effects lasting practically until today), presents specific problems

in its transposition on television or film. the latter by its very nature is conducted

in the linear time of audiovisuals, in which events must follow one another

temporally and the effects of simultaneity, anticipation or remembrance can only

be simulated (split screen, flash forward and flashback). In this sense, seriality

certainly offers an advantage over, for example, the classic film structure: the

multistrand narrative, which allows for "side-by-side" different story lines that

can at least partially restore the geographic and chronological complexity of the

event. The multistrand structure can certainly give the impression of fragmenting

the narrative, and the concept of elasticity serves precisely to explain how the

miniseries emphasizes or minimizes its narrative at the local level in order to

restore the spatiotemporal plurality of the event.

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to Paolo Braga

In my analysis on Chernobyl I link two models of classical male heroism (Achilles and Hector) to the female characters of Ulana and Lyudmilla. I found the relationship you point out between Legasov and Cassandra very interesting and I would like to ask you the following question: in your opinion, what is the meaning/aim of this juxtaposition between the feminine and the masculine whose traditional atributes Chernobyl somehow subverts?

ANSWER to Charo

I think that the reference to “Cassandra” made by Jarred Harris while explaining his character stresses the fact that the protagonist is facing from the beginning the dilemma of telling an uncomfortable truth for the sake of his people. By the way, some critics have noticed that the actor has been recently playing the role of a “prophet of doom” in different productions (besides Chernobyl, in The Terror, 2018, and Foundation, 2021). Probably, the idea of working on a female archetype wasn’t consciously on the minds of Mazin and of Harris.

But the perspective you are suggesting was not extraneous to them in relation to another aspect. Like Harris has declared in many interviews, some typically masculine personality traits of the real Legasov were actually toned down. The scientist was in reality an “alpha dog” – an assertive prominent figure in his field. Not so different from Ščerbina in this respect. This was a problem the narrative rhetoric of Chernobyl had to solve. The overlapping of the two characterizations would have undermined the taste of the improbable friendship between a bureaucrat and an intellectual. It would have also weakened the sense of Legasov’s drama. That is why a reluctant and more sensitive hero was the final choice.

I would like to add a note on your stimulating thought about two kinds of female heroism. Regarding the axis masculine-feminine, it is probably worth emphasizing that Ulana is, in the last part of the story, a mentor for Legasov. Now, a female mentor of the hero, especially, like in this case, outside a romantic relationship, is not so common in contemporary Tv series. So, another reason to consider Chernobyl innovative.

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Questions to Ioanna Vovou

I find interesting that the viewers you interviewed understand the miniseries "as a fictive -and aspiring to be an authentic- expression not simply of the historical past, of that which preceded the present, but even more, questioning, engaging a relationship with the future".

In your opinion, does it mean that Chernobyl is interpreted as a kind manifest against nuclear energy?

Answer to Charo:

All of our texts and discussions of Chernobyl bring to my mind an Opera Aperta (see Eco), or, in a more precise way, variations sur un thème that could go on and on. That idea does not only apply to our discussion presented here in Pop Junctions but also, to the prosumers and fans. Charo Laccalle and Nicola Dusi in their opening statement and Nicola also in his text on the intermedial realism of the series, both refer to web prosumers engaging profoundly with the series. I am tempted to give some examples of web prosumers’ engagement on a divergent level, such as a ‘bémol’ (♭) in musical tones. That is parodies of the series, as a fandom expression, mixing media products and cultural backgrounds but in a comic intention. See for example the trailer of the faint series “The Plant”, mixing footage and scenes from the series Chernobyl and the theme song of the series “The Office”.

Or, in a more local/national context, the Greek comic video “ehhh, not like that” parodying the moment of the explosion by transposing to the scene the Greek song “today you go bam”, performing a wordplay and meaning ‘you are super beautiful today’ in slang (at 0’8’’), then calling the character of Anatoly Dyatlov by the name of a Greek actor (“Mr Kontogiannides”) due to his physical resemblance with him (at 0’15’’). Or comparing the citizen’s evacuation of Pripyat with scenes from an old Greek movie (at 2’11’’-2’22’’).

We could find innumerous examples of that kind….

Going back to the question addressed by Charo Lacalle on the potential interpretation of the series as a kind of manifest against nuclear energy, that is an interesting one, referring to the interpretation of the interviewees’ comments and the contextualization that scholars do; it also raises methodological questions. Even in the more explicit and -likely to be- evident situations of performance of an audience such as qualitative interviews, between the expression of comments, words, on the one hand, and the attribution of an intention to this expression, on the other hand, there is a thin line I will try not to cross. So, I would try –as difficult as that might be- not to transpose interviewees / audiences as a persona ficta that talks as I imagine “in virtue of its performative dimension”, as Daniel Dayan (2005) explains. Therefore, I would not cross the line of reading the interviewees comments and claims as the audience’s expression of the idea that the series is understood as an anti-nuclear energy manifest. I think it would be more accurate to say that the series narrative world, that is briefly to say the detailed explanation of how Chernobyl’s nuclear accident happened and of the political context and management of the event, proposes, offers, promises something to the audience. The notion of promise (Jost, 1997), is very different from the idea of a ‘pact’ or of a ‘reading contract’ with the audience - since it would be a little exaggerated to imply that the series, as any fiction, includes a bilateral act signed by both parts, producers and readers/viewers. The idea of a promising act is, therefore, more adequate, questioning severely the notion of contract or pact in regard to media products.

Summing up on Charo’s question, I would say that the audience interviewed in my study, seems to acknowledge the proposition of the series to be used as a kind of ‘manual’ explaining not only ‘what happened then’ but ‘how things work’ now; and adhere to it in various and controversial levels.

In that sense, the series proposes a sort of ‘repair’ of the trauma (pointed out by Antonella Mascio), or of a symbolic resilience, counterbalancing in a certain way “[…] the fear of a breakdown that has already been experienced”(Winnicott, 1974).

References

Dayan D. (2005), “Mothers, midwives and abortionists: genealogy, obstetrics, audiences and publics” in Sonia Livingstone (eds) (2005), Audiences and Publics: When cultural engagement matters for the public sphere, Intellect, p. 43-76.

Jost F. (1997), “La promesse des genres”, in Réseaux, v. 15, n°81, p. 11-31.

Winnicott D.W. (1974), “Fear of Breakdown”, International Review of Psycho-Analysis 1, p. 103-107.