From the twisted, brilliant mind of Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan comes a sci-fi drama that doesn’t offer comfort, hope, or easy answers — and that’s exactly why audiences are obsessed. The nine-part series stars Emmy-nominated Rhea Seehorn as Carol Sturka, an author branded “the most miserable person on Earth,” who is somehow tasked with an impossible mission: saving the world from happiness itself. After its shocking double-bill premiere, viewers say they’re completely hooked, while critics are hailing it as one of 2025’s smartest, darkest shows.

In a television landscape saturated with reboots, sequels, and formulaic blockbusters, Vince Gilligan’s “Pluribus” emerges as a breath of fresh air—or perhaps more accurately, a gasp of existential dread. Premiering on Apple TV+ on November 7, 2025, this nine-episode sci-fi drama marks Gilligan’s bold departure from the methamphetamine-fueled moral decay of the Breaking Bad universe. Instead, he plunges into a post-apocalyptic world where humanity’s greatest threat isn’t violence or greed, but an insidious wave of enforced bliss. At the center of it all is Rhea Seehorn, delivering what many are already calling the performance of the year, if not the decade.

Gilligan, the mastermind behind Breaking Bad and its acclaimed prequel Better Call Saul, has long been celebrated for his ability to craft complex antiheroes and morally ambiguous narratives. But after wrapping Better Call Saul in 2022, he expressed a desire to move beyond villains and explore something new. “I was tired of writing bad guys,” Gilligan has said in interviews, reflecting on his shift toward a story that grapples with heroism in an age of uncertainty. “Pluribus” was conceived nearly a decade ago, during the production of Better Call Saul, but it wasn’t until he tailored the lead role for Seehorn—his muse from the Saul era—that the project truly came to life.

The series is set in Albuquerque, New Mexico, a location Gilligan knows intimately from his previous works, but here it’s transformed into a hauntingly familiar yet alien landscape. The plot revolves around an extraterrestrial virus dubbed “the Joining,” which sweeps across the globe, turning most of humanity into a collective hive mind known as the “Others.” These beings are eerily polite, devoid of conflict, crime, or prejudice, living in a state of perpetual harmony. But for the handful of immune survivors, this utopia is a nightmare of assimilation, where individuality is the ultimate sin.

Enter Carol Sturka, played by Seehorn. Carol is a curmudgeonly romance novelist whose life was already steeped in misery before the apocalypse. Branded as “the most miserable person on Earth,” she becomes one of just 13 individuals resistant to the virus. As the world around her succumbs to this forced happiness, Carol must navigate isolation, grief, and the creeping temptation of surrender. Her mission? To reverse the Joining and restore humanity’s messy, conflicted essence—even if the world no longer wants to be saved.

The premiere drops viewers into this disorienting reality with a double episode release: “We Is Us” and “Pirate Lady,” both written and directed by Gilligan himself. From the opening scenes, the tension is palpable. An astronomer’s discovery unleashes the virus, and suddenly, the planet is “upside-down.” Carol’s terror is immediate and visceral, amplified by Seehorn’s nuanced portrayal. Viewers have reported being “completely hooked” after just these two episodes, with social media buzzing about the slow-burn pacing that echoes Gilligan’s signature style—deliberate, layered, and unflinchingly introspective.

What sets “Pluribus” apart is its genre-blending prowess. It’s part black comedy, part psychological thriller, part post-apocalyptic drama, with sci-fi elements that draw from classics like The Twilight Zone, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and The Prisoner. The show doesn’t shy away from philosophical questions: What does it mean to be human if conflict, creativity, and individuality are erased? In a world without suffering, is there room for art, love, or purpose? Gilligan weaves these themes seamlessly, using the hive mind as a metaphor for contemporary issues like social conformity, the allure of technology-driven unity, and even the subtle horrors of a post-pandemic society.

Critics have been effusive in their praise. On Rotten Tomatoes, the first season holds a staggering 98% approval rating from over 150 reviews, with a consensus calling it “genuinely original science-fiction fare” that “leads Rhea Seehorn through a brave new world with plentiful returns.” Metacritic echoes this with an 87/100 score, indicating universal acclaim. Reviewers highlight the show’s meticulous writing, exceptional directing, and production design, which transform everyday Albuquerque settings into symbols of eerie perfection. One critic noted its “startling piece of storytelling, beautifully formed and superbly held together by Seehorn,” while another dubbed it “the year’s best new show.”

Audience reception is more mixed but equally passionate, with a 68% Popcornmeter score on Rotten Tomatoes. Some viewers laud its thought-provoking depth and “slow smart burn,” comparing the Others to a human version of Star Trek’s Borg—resistance is futile, yet irresistibly compelling. Others criticize the pacing as too deliberate, with complaints of “plot holes” and an “unbearable watch” for those expecting high-octane action. Yet, even detractors admit the premise is intriguing, and many have binge-watched the season multiple times, obsessing over details like the anti-AI disclaimer in the credits: “This show was made by humans.”

At the heart of the obsession is Rhea Seehorn’s performance as Carol. Known for her Emmy-nominated role as Kim Wexler in Better Call Saul, Seehorn steps into the spotlight here with a commanding presence. Carol is no flawless hero; she’s impulsive, rage-filled, and deeply flawed, driven by grief over her wife’s death and a stubborn refusal to conform. Seehorn infuses her with “passionate rage”—a raw, reactive energy that makes every decision feel instinctual and human. In interviews, Seehorn has described Carol’s arc as a journey through loss, where distractions like writing or gardening become lifelines in a world stripped of independent creation.

Her chemistry with the supporting cast elevates the series further. Karolina Wydra shines as Zosia, Carol’s Polish chaperone from the Others, providing a foil of serene obedience. Carlos-Manuel Vesga brings charisma to Manousos Oviedo, a Colombian survivor hiding in Paraguay, whose interactions with Carol spark some of the show’s most tense and humorous moments. Guest appearances, including Miriam Shor as Carol’s wife Helen and even a cameo from John Cena, add layers of surprise.

Production-wise, “Pluribus” is a testament to Gilligan’s craftsmanship. Filmed in Albuquerque from February to September 2024 under the working title “Wycaro 339,” each episode boasts a $15 million budget, evident in the stunning cinematography and visual effects. Composer Dave Porter, a Gilligan staple, delivers a haunting score that underscores the isolation. The episodes, ranging from 42 to 63 minutes, build methodically: from the explosive premiere to mid-season turns like “Got Milk” and the finale “La Chica o El Mundo,” where complications peak without easy resolutions.

Gilligan’s direction is evident in the deliberate pacing and visual storytelling—scenes with minimal dialogue that convey volumes through expression and setting. He has slammed AI in Hollywood, calling it an “energy-intensive plagiarism machine” peddled by “centibillionaires,” and the show subtly critiques technology’s role in eroding humanity. Though Gilligan insists the idea predates AI’s boom, parallels to neural networks and collective intelligence are unavoidable.

The series broke Apple TV+ records upon launch, surpassing Severance Season 2 as the most-streamed drama debut and becoming the platform’s all-time most-watched original by its finale on December 24, 2025. Awards buzz is already swirling: nominations for Golden Globes (Best Drama Series, Best Actress), Critics’ Choice (Best Drama, Best Actress), and wins like AFI’s TV Program of the Year.

Looking ahead, Apple ordered two seasons upfront, but Gilligan envisions up to four, with Season 2 in development—though he warns it “will be a while.” He remains flexible, emphasizing collaboration in the writers’ room and openness to evolution. For fans, this means more of Carol’s fight, more philosophical depth, and more of Seehorn’s magnetic presence.

In an era where entertainment often prioritizes comfort over challenge, “Pluribus” dares to unsettle. It asks if happiness without struggle is worth the cost, and through Carol’s eyes, reminds us that our flaws make us human. Viewers are hooked not despite the discomfort, but because of it. As one fan put it, Gilligan has “nailed one of the best shows of the decade.” With Seehorn leading the charge, “Pluribus” isn’t just a series—it’s a phenomenon, proving that in 2025, the darkest stories shine brightest.