The post apocalyptic actors are being herded to the mysterious ‘Museum of Civilisation’.

At the opening of episode six of Station 11, one of the characters proclaims desperately: ‘The Prophet (i.e. the bad dude) wants to kill The Symphony (i.e. the band of histrionic, talentless and self-indulgent post-apocalyptic Shakespearean players)!’

I audibly cheered. I thought, put a wriggle on with that and we’ll be done by the third act.

Sadly ‘The Prophet’ decides to fart around with a bunch of kids in the woods spouting gnomic nonsense, and so very little progress is made in eliminating the tedious thespians.

Episode seven takes us back to the initial pandemic – always the more interesting scripts – and the story of young Kirsten (the talented Matilda Lawler) and Himesh Patel’s Jeevan and their decision to leave pandemic decimated Chicago.

Unluckily for them, the writers frame the episode around older Kirsten, revisiting her traumatic childhood, and far too much of the action (or rather lack of action) is spent deciding whether to put on a tedious and incomprehensible play. I mean, they really do have other things to worry about what with the end of the world and everything, although to be fair the folly of stopping off for inappropriate entertainment is explored at the end of the episode. The moral being, there are definitely times when the show really shouldn’t go on.

I’ve spent my whole professional life working with actors and writers, and we like to tell ourselves that what we do is important, and that without it – without art – civilisation is a pointless, heartless exercise. However, on the evidence of Station 11, should you be faced with an apocalyptic pandemic (!) steer well clear of the artists. We really are the last people you need.

Verdict: Station 11 is pretentious, indulgent and deathly slow, but it still remains oddly watchable… just about. 5/10

Martin Jameson