The Nevers -

Partway through the season, The Nevers pulls off a rug-pull so audacious that you’ll either cheer or throw your remote. Suffice it to say, the show is not just a Victorian superhero drama. It’s something far stranger, sadder, and more ambitious. The Wounds: Where It Stumbles Let’s be honest. The first two episodes feel frantic, overstuffed with characters (do we really need a Touched who can turn into a swarm of bees and a Touched who can pull metal from the ground?). The dialogue occasionally leans too hard into Whedon-speak—that rapid-fire, self-aware quirkiness that worked in 1999 but feels a little dated now.

Created by Joss Whedon (before his departure) and shepherded to the screen by Philippa Goslett, The Nevers arrived on HBO in 2021 with a bang—literally. An alien ship explodes over Victorian London, raining down shimmering spores that “Touched” certain people, granting them extraordinary powers. The result? A chaotic, corset-ripping, genre-bending masterpiece that felt like The X-Men crashed into a Jane Austen novel during a gaslight blackout.

There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with falling in love with a TV show that never gets to finish its story. For fans of Victorian sci-fi, that heartbreak has a name: The Nevers .

Together, they run a safe house for the Touched—a ragtag family of super-powered orphans, con artists, and dreamers trying to survive in a world that hates them. 1. The Action is Unhinged (In the Best Way) Forget polite parlor room drama. The Nevers fights like a martial arts movie on absinthe. Amalia doesn’t just punch people; she uses her combat precognition to dismantle six men before they hit the floor. One early episode features a heist inside a floating opera house that is so meticulously choreographed, it rivals anything in Daredevil . The Nevers

Amalia is not your typical hero. She’s haunted, gruff, morally ambiguous, and hiding a secret so massive it literally rewires the show’s genre. Donnelly plays her with a broken-glass intensity that makes every glance feel like a confession. You never quite know if she’s going to save you or sacrifice you for the greater good.

Most steampunk is about polished brass and whimsy. The Nevers is about rust, soot, and desperation. Penance builds sonar glasses and electric lanterns not for fun, but to give her found family a fighting chance. The gadgets feel lived-in—held together with prayer, solder, and sheer stubbornness.

Even unfinished, The Nevers is a stunning artifact of what ambitious television can be. It’s a show about trauma, found family, and the radical act of refusing to be a monster just because society labels you one. The costumes are breathtaking, the performances (particularly Donnelly, Skelly, and Ben Chaplin as the weary detective Frank Mundi) are top-tier, and the central mystery of the Galanthi is genuinely moving. Partway through the season, The Nevers pulls off

Naturally, the establishment fears them. A shadowy cabal called the “Free Life” wants to exterminate them. The government wants to cage them. And stuck in the middle is Amalia True (a ferocious Laura Donnelly), a bruiser with glimpses of the future, and her best friend Penance Adair (Ann Skelly), a brilliant Irish engineer who can "see" energy flows.

Here’s why The Nevers is worth your time, even if its run was tragically abbreviated. The year is 1896. London is a grimy marvel of industry and empire. After the “Galanthi” event, the Touched—mostly women, immigrants, and the poor—suddenly wield abilities ranging from the ridiculous (making flowers grow instantly) to the terrifying (shooting fire from their palms, manipulating memory, or seeing a few seconds into the future).

And when you get to the end, join the rest of us in the sad, hopeful corner of the internet, still asking: What happens next? Have you seen The Nevers? Are you still angry it was cancelled? Let me know in the comments. The Wounds: Where It Stumbles Let’s be honest

Think of it less as a complete meal and more as a brilliant, unfinished novel you find in a used bookstore. You’ll be frustrated that there’s no final chapter. But you’ll be grateful for the pages that exist. If you love genre chaos— Doctor Who meets Penny Dreadful meets Orphan Black —give The Nevers a shot. Watch it for the bee-swarm girl. Watch it for the opera house fight. Watch it for the moment Amalia True looks directly into the camera of history and whispers, “We’re going to need a bigger boat.”

And then there’s the elephant in the ballroom: the behind-the-scenes turmoil. After Joss Whedon exited, the show pivoted. By the time the final episodes aired (produced by a new team, with a tighter focus), the cancellation axe had already fallen. The story ends on a cliffhanger that feels less like a season finale and more like a door slamming shut mid-sentence. Yes. Unequivocally.