LEGION Recap: 1x03
For an intro to this one just imagine a stream of hearts pouring out my own heart while I flail around in a sea of my heart’s hearts splashing and laughing and gently gnawing on one and you should have ABOUT THE STATE OF THINGS.
Season 1, ‘Chapter 3’
The first three minutes of Legion, ‘Chapter 3’ are perhaps the most masterfully bewitching opening of an episode of television I’ve ever watched. Trying to explain what they are and what they did to me just with words feels like one of the more comically hopeless things I’ve attempted in a while, because it’s so rooted in what you can do with television, with image and sound, with that form of storytelling told in installments. This opening couldn’t have come earlier than the third episode, for instance. A big part of its power is in how it draws together elements we’ve already seen to make a new piece of music.
Also: the music. Lovely darkening movie-score strings, overlaid with a spoken-word melody of a man’s voice telling the fable of the poor woodcutter and his wife who found a crane in the woods — a man’s voice playing from a beautiful silver & wire Rube Goldberg machine of a coffee maker. The strangeness, the gorgeous strangeness! A sort of mid-century A.I. doing the scene-setting heavy lifting of paaaages of dialogue.
But more than anything, the magic in this opening is in how it renders the feeling of telepathy. It is of telepathy, of the stuff of it. Not that we’re supposed to parse everything we see as being experienced by David, sitting at the end of a sunlit dock, but we should get the sense that some is, or that it can be. That there are certain threads of connection he’s beginning to feel between sensation and image and thought, a web of humanity, gone mysteriously tangible under his attention.
The fear people have about telepathy, of course, is the idea of someone observing our private lives. And this episode does something brilliant: it gives us telepathy ourselves. It shows us people literally bare. We see a room of people showering, and see it for all that it is: just human bodies bathing. All skin feels the same under soap and water. Telepathy, Legion says, is not inherently voyeuristic — it’s inherently experiential.
It’s just a stunning sequence. I’ve watched it over and over trying to put these words in order, and every time I’ve just been SWEPT BY GOOSEBUMPS TBH.

“Shall we begin?”










