‘Y: The Last Man’ Gender Politics With Mainly Positive Results [Revew]

“In the summer of 2002, a plague of unknown origin destroyed every last sperm, fetus, and fully developed mammal with a Y chromosome—with the apparent exception of one young man and his pet, a male Capuchin monkey.” So reads the epitaph at the end of “Y: The Last Man’s” first issue.

Walk through your local comic book store in a post-Avengers world and point to an acclaimed series on the shelves; odds are it’s already been optioned for the IP frontlines of our streaming wars. Case in point “Y: The Last Man,” created by writer Brian K. Vaughan and artist Pia Guerra for DC’s sadly now folded Vertigo Comics imprint (see also: “Sweet Tooth”). The story of an apocalyptic ‘gendercide’ wherein “instantaneously, 48% of the global population, or approximately 2.9 billion men” are exterminated. Updating this concept for the modern era, the synopsis has been adjusted to specify that the entire male populace was decimated save for “one cisgender man and his pet monkey.”

While the series justifiably alters many of its now-dated components (the term cis was not socially normalized at the time of the book’s publication) and is very well made on a craft level, much like “Dune” leaving its mark “Star Wars,” ‘Y’ is a science fiction, mystery classic that incidentally feels retroactively neutered being released near 20 years after its inception. “Lost” head writer Damon Lindelof snagged up Brian K. Vaughan—a key voice in refocusing the show after ABC finally agreed to end the series—when the comic ended in 2008. But perhaps more ironically, FX’s show now feels like its nipping at the heels of “The Leftovers,” showrunner Eliza Clark’s (“Rubicon“) series taking a far dourer, grief-stricken approach to its source material—a choice which makes sense given the pandemic factors we’re all dealing with yet lessens the story’s sense of scale, imagination, and adventure.

Flashing back to the day of the world’s collapse—following a somewhat empty but perhaps essential cold open—the pilot introduces our cast of characters, mainly the Brown family: Yorick (Ben Schnetzer, the titular “last man”), his paramedic sister Hero (Olivia Thirlby), and their mother Jennifer (Diane Lane), a liberal congresswoman who soon finds herself in the Commander-in-Chief role, the line of succession falling to her after men start dropping like flies. Reminiscent of “24,” there’s a palpable sense of emergency to the cross-cutting tension of ‘Y’s first issue, which the pilot attempts to mirror—moving back and forth across the U.S.— but the series takes its time a tad too much by comparison, also compounding its political scope in the process—expanding the ensemble but constricting its setting.

Super-spy Agent 355 (Ashley Romans), for example, is introduced via an undercover domestic terrorist op in Oklahoma instead of extracting an Israeli official from Jordan—the MENA region being a key conflict in the comics. Yorick’s girlfriend Beth (Juliana Canfield) does not start the story in Australia—probably the change which makes the least sense. Thankfully, the series picks up steam by Episode 3, expanding its narrative borders and introducing a political rival for Jennifer in Tel Aviv. When the President learns her son is the only (cis) man left alive, she orders 355 to protect him on a mission to Harvard to locate geneticist Dr. Allison Mann (Diana Bang). Meanwhile, the ex-President’s daughter, Kimberly Cunningham (a very good Amber Tamblyn)—who has recently written a book called “Cancel Culture and the Death of Conservative Dignity”—stages a widowers’ coup, rallying the politician’s wives against the newly elected President Brown, as starving, powerless citizens rush the gates outside.

Moving along at a slower pace, the main difference in updating ‘Y’s story for contemporary times: Yorick is no longer the primary protagonist (perhaps in screen time, but not in spirit)—the show opting to treat the series as an ensemble affair. He still has his jabber jaw moments and an air of comic aloofness but is far less personably loquacious than his comic book counterpart. It’s also possible his role was dialed down after numerous casting attempts fell out over the years (Shia LaBeouf and Barry Keoghan notably among them). Schnetzer does a decent job, though he occasionally comes off as overly drab. He’s not in the same league as Lane or Thirlby (the former feels the closest to a “lead” the show has). It’s not necessarily his fault that Yorick has been turned into more of a blank audience surrogate. Still, one wonders if injecting a bit more energetic charm (Michael Angarano would have been perfect back in the day) could’ve gone a long way. Alas. (We would have gotten a “Snow Angels” reunion out of that too)

The original “Y the Last Man” is a sprawling, cross-continental, coming-of-age story with an array of heavy social elements sprinkled throughout—a road epic not unlike Wim Wenders‘ “Until the End of the World”— FX’s series is a much more singular-minded, government conspiracy series by comparison, and a lot less science fiction. Many of the changes work well, while others feel like a curious oversight. Perhaps the plan is to wait and see how the series is received before expanding the international components and introducing more “what caused the gendercide?” mystery box, theory threads; but one can’t help but feel that the most narratively hefty stuff has been partly sterilized while the writers somehow also hang a lantern on many spotlighted issues from the original text—Hollywood likely too afraid to blatantly vilify Israel, for example, and words like transgender never uttered aloud (thus far, that I noticed), hormones being alluded to instead of outright addressing the elephant in the room.

Still, with higher-ups likely fearing the wrath of conservative radicals and ring-leaning centrists overly concerned about ideas on gender performativity poisoning the minds of their children, the show updates many of its dated aspects while also feeling too timid to truly dig into the deeper implications of its more partisan elements. Maybe that will change down the road—as the show did have talented trans writers in the room—and added a trans character to the proceedings via Hero’s friend, Sam (Elliot Fletcher). For now, though, the series feels held back by its own anxious manifestations of how certain subjects it’s tackling may be publicly received.

“How?” someone asks when Sam reveals his face. “You figure it out,” is all the writers seem willing to say. However, the simple acceptance of equality is something too many (cis) men never have to think about. Striving for recognizable achievement feels far more insurmountable when being who you are makes you a liability. In this regard, the changes made to Yorick’s lead status are, in part, creatively inspired. For once, the male messiah character is a form of luggage instead of an infallible can inevitably do no wrong. For scientific reasons, society still needs Yorick to avoid extinction. Still, in all actuality, he’s got next to nothing left to contribute aside from middle school card tricks and his escape artist antics. Thirlby’s Hero, juxtaposed against him, receives a much stronger arc.

Like “Lost,” or “The Leftovers,” if you’re looking for a theory that proves everything—whether in regards to plot, politics, or gender philosophy—“Y the Last Man” purposefully does not provide easy answers, knowing that explaining the situation away would defeat the impetus of proposing such a scenario in the first place. The mysterious intrigue circling its end of the world causality is overshadowed by a populace wrestling with grief, fear, and anger, paralleling the unknown future staring our nation in the face at present. It’s not the comic, but that’s probably a smart decision in 2021, the adaptation opting to mine from the bones of its societal concerns to shape a story better suited for our present. [B]