Once again, Charlie Brooker writes something that everyone is complaining about, which is the depressing nature of modern society. This time, talent shows are the target in the war on culture. You know, the ones where three assholes criticise you or praise you and then you end up on the Royal Variety Performance and you sell out like a completely fucking piece of shit that you are.

The story is mostly pointless; it serves to keep the cynical commentary on modern culture from tripping over itself. It’s set in a near-future where people are made to ride stationary bicycles and watch endless amounts of populist television. Just like the title Black Mirror suggests, the black screens follow you everywhere so you never miss a second of inconsequential shit. Riding the bikes earn you merits, which are just points to buy you things that aren’t real (think Reddit karma meets Xbox Live avatars meets micropayments). There’s the black guy man of ethnic origin, Bing, who hates his daily life of riding a bicycle to power up the screens that force him to ride a bicycle, and the girl, Abi, who in the guy’s own words, has “something real”, as opposed to the artificial shit that talent shows are famed for. Did I say famed? I meant depressingly known for.

When he hears her sing, he is immediately compelled to give up all his points to allow her to perform in front of three judges who are like the exact copies of those three people on a very well-known talent show. You know, that one. You know, with the flashy lights. You know, The X Factor. Abi is quickly dismissed as someone who isn’t special in a show filled with singers (you know, like The X Factor) and is instead told to go into porn. You know, like The X Factor. Bing feels cheated and is angered at the kind of exploitation that the show engages in (you know, like The X Factor).

Then the show turns into those stupid montages where Bing rides his bike and does whatever it is people do in musical montages with upbeat music that implies he’s out for blood. He attempts to cut himself when he hits on an idea, which becomes painfully obvious when he is on stage performing for the judges. He takes a glass shard and goes on a rant about the state of the culture he himself is a part of; the state of the culture the talent shows are a part of; and just the daily grind itself. He’s angry and he says all this with a piece of glass on his neck.

The part that sarcastically comments on the fact that we have gone too far as humanity in regards to the kind of shit we put up with on television is when Bing is invited to have a show where he rants on with a glass shard on his neck for “30 minutes, twice a week”. The definition of a sell-out if there ever was one. The programme ends with one of his rant shows (“farewell forever… until the same time next week”). Bing has left the daily grind of depression and a meaningless life, replacing it with just a meaningless life. Is this really how reality show celebrities are like in real life? Possibly. I haven’t met any because I have an allergic reaction to idiots.

As for Abi, she is a successful porn star by the end of the programme. But while she may be just yet another porn star, she isn’t forgotten by Bing completely, as he looks at a wooden penguin (a motif in the story - it makes sense when you watch it) after he places his very valuable glass shard into a black case and looks out into birds and trees - another world that is the opposite of the one he lives in.

Was it better than last week’s episode? Probably, if you were comparing critiques of modern society. There was no pig fucking and it seemed more extreme as a caricature of human society than the last episode, as it seemed more surreal and absurd at times. The writing felt like something strung together at the last minute, but I think that’s the point. Don’t get too hung up on the story because that’s not the point. It’s more to do with sarcastically commenting on humanity and culture than giving you a plot that matches the quality of say, Downton Abbey. But if you were to compare the episodes based on the merits of the writing, The National Anthem would be much, much better. But again, that had much to do with the fact that the fictional Prime Minister had sex with a pig, and if you were turned off by this week’s episode because there wasn’t any of that, you’re just as bad as the people being sardonically criticised in 15 Million Merits.