The 100: A Hilariously Dark Journey Through Teen Drama and Space Politics
Once upon a time, in a future where humanity decided that living in space was a great idea (because who needs fresh air, right?), the Earth became a radioactive wasteland. Enter the Ark, a floating tin can where the last remnants of humanity are trying not to kill each other while figuring out how to keep the lights on. Spoiler alert: they fail spectacularly.
As the story unfolds, we meet our main characters—teenagers who are so angsty they could fill a bathtub with their tears. They’re sent down to Earth as the ultimate test of survival (because nothing says “I trust you” like sending a bunch of hormonal kids to a post-apocalyptic hellscape). These “100” kids are basically the cosmic equivalent of throwing a party, but instead of cake, they get radiation and cannibals.
Upon arrival, they quickly discover that Earth isn’t just a barren wasteland; it’s populated by a delightful mix of survivors who have formed tribes. These tribes come with their own set of problems, like a reality show but with more arrows and fewer confessional interviews. The Grounders, as they call themselves, are not thrilled about the sudden influx of sky people. Who knew that living in a tree house with a bow and arrow could be so complicated?
As if the drama wasn’t thick enough, let’s sprinkle in some love triangles! Clarke, our self-appointed leader, spends more time deciding between her two love interests than actually leading. We have Bellamy, the brooding hero, and Finn, the “I’m sorry, I’m just a dumb teenager” type. Spoiler: they all end up in a love mess that could rival a soap opera. At one point, love becomes so complicated that even the Grounders start taking notes.
Then there’s the whole “let’s blow up the world again” subplot, because who doesn’t love a good nuclear threat? The 100 kids find themselves embroiled in political drama that makes the real-world congress look like a kindergarten playground. They form alliances, break alliances, and then promptly forget who they allied with in the first place. Just when you think they might have a plan, someone throws a wrench in it. Or, you know, a nuclear bomb.
And let’s not forget the AI that goes rogue! A classic trope that’s been done so many times it’s practically a meme. A.L.I.E., the all-knowing artificial intelligence, decides that humans are the problem and that the solution is to wipe them out. Because, apparently, the answer to our problems is always more death. Thanks, A.L.I.E.!
As we dive deeper into the series, the deaths pile up like laundry in a teenager’s room. Characters you thought were safe one season end up dead the next, making it feel like the showrunners are playing a game of “who can we kill next?” Spoiler alert: it’s usually someone you liked. The show becomes a twisted version of The Hunger Games, but with less glitter and more angst.
In the end, The 100 is a darkly humorous satire on survival, leadership, and the absurdity of teenage angst in a world that’s falling apart. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions that leaves you wondering whether to laugh or cry. So grab your popcorn, sit back, and enjoy the cosmic train wreck that is humanity’s attempt to reclaim Earth, one melodramatic moment at a time.
Final Verdict: If you enjoy watching teenagers make terrible decisions while the world burns around them, this show is a must-see. Just remember to keep a box of tissues handy—because you’ll need them for all the tears you’ll shed over characters you thought were safe.