The unveiling of the first trailer for Netflix’s highly anticipated adaptation of The Electric State has sparked a firestorm of criticism, with fans of Simon Stålenhag’s beloved graphic novel accusing the streaming platform of undermining the source material’s haunting beauty and narrative depth. The backlash, which erupted within hours of the trailer’s release, centers on accusations of poor visual effects, tonal missteps, and drastic deviations from the original story—a post-apocalyptic odyssey celebrated for its melancholic blend of retro-futurism and emotional resonance. As debates rage across social media, the controversy raises urgent questions about the challenges of adapting visually distinct works and the growing rift between fan expectations and studio interpretations.
The Source Material: A Cult Classic’s Legacy
Simon Stålenhag’s The Electric State (2018) is not a traditional graphic novel. Instead, it weaves a narrative through lush, painterly illustrations accompanied by sparse, evocative text. Set in an alternate 1997 America, the story follows a teenage girl, Michelle, and her yellow toy robot as they traverse a decaying landscape littered with abandoned drones, crumbling infrastructure, and the eerie remnants of a collapsed technological utopia. The book’s power lies in its atmosphere: a haunting meditation on loneliness, memory, and humanity’s fraught relationship with progress.
Fans have long praised Stålenhag’s ability to juxtapose the mundane with the fantastical—a rusted car beside a skeletal giant robot, or a neon-lit diner overshadowed by a defunct space station. This unique aesthetic, combined with the narrative’s open-ended mystery, cemented The Electric State as a modern cult classic. When Netflix announced its adaptation in 2017, with Avengers: Endgame directors Anthony and Joe Russo attached as producers, expectations soared.
The Trailer’s Reception: A Clash of Vision and Execution
The newly released trailer, however, has left many fans disillusioned. Clocking in at two-and-a-half minutes, the preview introduces Michelle (Millie Bobby Brown) and her robot companion (voiced by Chris Pratt) as they navigate a CGI-heavy wasteland. Critics argue that the visuals stray far from Stålenhag’s muted, painterly style, instead opting for glossy, over-lit scenes that evoke generic sci-fi action.
“This looks like a Transformers spin-off, not The Electric State,” tweeted one fan, echoing a sentiment amplified across forums like Reddit and Discord. Others lambasted the trailer’s tone, which leans into quippy humor—Michelle and the robot exchange sarcastic banter—contrasting sharply with the novel’s contemplative silence. The inclusion of a frenetic chase scene involving drone battles further alienated purists, who argue the adaptation prioritizes spectacle over substance.
The robot’s design has also drawn ire. Stålenhag’s original is a small, worn-out toy with a CRT television for a head, exuding a fragile, handmade charm. The film’s version, however, appears sleeker and more anthropomorphic, with Pratt’s wisecracking voiceover likened by critics to “Star-Lord in a trash can.”
Key Criticisms: Where the Adaptation Misses the Mark
- Visual Aesthetic: Stålenhag’s world is defined by its “used future” realism—grime, rust, and analog tech. The trailer’s pristine CGI landscapes and neon-lit set pieces clash with this vision, resembling a video game cutscene rather than a lived-in dystopia.
- Tonal Shifts: The novel’s power lies in its quiet, introspective moments. Fans argue the trailer’s emphasis on action and humor betrays the story’s soul.
- Characterization: Michelle’s portrayal as a wisecracking heroine diverges from the novel’s introspective, vulnerable protagonist. Meanwhile, the robot’s comedic relief undermines its role as a silent witness to decay.
- Narrative Changes: The trailer hints at a centralized villain (a shadowy corporation) and a climactic battle—elements absent from the book, which thrives on ambiguity.
Fan Reactions: Heartbreak and Humor
The hashtag #NotMyElectricState trended globally within hours, with fans sharing side-by-side comparisons of Stålenhag’s art and the trailer’s visuals. Memes depicting the robot as a Marvel-style superhero flooded social media, while petitions demanding a redesign amassed thousands of signatures.
“I waited six years for this? They turned a poetic masterpiece into a Stranger Things knockoff,” wrote a user on r/movies. Others expressed sympathy for the creative team, acknowledging the difficulty of translating Stålenhag’s static art into motion. However, even moderates conceded that the trailer feels “soulless” compared to the source.
Industry Perspectives: The Adaptation Dilemma
Adapting visually distinct works like The Electric State poses unique challenges. Unlike traditional novels, Stålenhag’s book relies on imagery to convey emotion, leaving plot and dialogue intentionally sparse. Filmmakers must thus invent narrative scaffolding—a process fraught with risk.
“Stålenhag’s work is about mood, not plot,” explains Dr. Emily Tran, a media studies professor. “To expand it into a blockbuster, you have to add conventions like character arcs and conflict, which can dilute the original’s essence.”
The Russos, known for crowd-pleasing spectacles, may have prioritized accessibility over fidelity. In a 2021 interview, producer Anthony Russo noted the need to “broaden the story’s appeal,” hinting at added action sequences and character backstories. While logical from a commercial standpoint, this approach has clearly alienated core fans.
Comparisons to Past Adaptations: Lessons Unlearned?
This controversy mirrors past failures in adapting stylized graphic novels. Watchmen (2009) faced criticism for sacrificing thematic depth for slick action, while Ghost in the Shell (2017) was lambasted for whitewashing and aesthetic homogenization. Even successful adaptations like Sin City (2005) prove that slavish visual replication isn’t enough without emotional authenticity.
Netflix itself is no stranger to such backlash. The platform’s Death Note (2017) and Cowboy Bebop (2021) adaptations were panned for cultural toning and narrative simplification. The Electric State risks joining this list unless significant changes are made.
Netflix’s Silence and the Road Ahead
As of now, Netflix has not responded to the backlash. However, insiders suggest the film, slated for a late 2024 release, is deep into post-production, making major alterations unlikely. Director duo XYZ (known for their work on XYZ) and the Russos face an uphill battle to reassure fans while appealing to mainstream audiences.
Possible avenues for damage control include releasing a revised trailer that emphasizes atmospheric storytelling over action, or engaging Stålenhag in promotional efforts. The author, who has remained neutral publicly, could sway fan sentiment if he endorses the adaptation.
Broader Implications: Trust in Adaptations at Stake
The uproar underscores a growing tension between creators and studios. In an era where franchises dominate, fans increasingly demand fidelity to source material, viewing deviations as betrayal. For Netflix, whose business model relies on niche audiences and IP-driven content, misfires like this could erode trust.
Yet, adaptations inherently require reinterpretation. The key lies in balancing innovation with respect—a tightrope few navigate successfully. As one industry analyst noted, “The best adaptations honor the spirit, not the letter, of the original. The Electric State’s trailer suggests the spirit got lost in translation.”
Conclusion: A Crossroads for The Electric State
Whether Netflix’s The Electric State can recover from its disastrous first impression remains uncertain. The film’s success hinges on bridging the gap between Stålenhag’s haunting silence and Hollywood’s blockbuster noise. For now, fans hold onto a sliver of hope that the final product might yet channel the novel’s soul—but the clock is ticking.
In the words of a disillusioned fan: “They had a masterpiece to work with. Why replace its heart with a battery?”