I finished the entire Netflix run of The Sandman and the final episode was Death: The High Cost of Living. I was very excited to watch the episode that was alluded to in The Sandman #21, was released as a three part comic series and collected as a graphic novel where:
'... one day in every century Death takes on mortal flesh, better to comprehend what the lives she takes must feel like, to taste the bitter tang of mortality that is the price she must pay for being the divider of the living from all that has gone before, all that must come after.'
I read this specific comic book about 20 or so years ago and remembered that it was about Death getting to walk the Earth to understand people better. It was a deeply humanist work and I had loved it at the time. This adaptation uses that template as a springboard and successfully modernizes the narrative, crafting a bittersweet tale that is both a faithful tribute to its source material and a resonant reflection on contemporary anxieties.
The episode's emotional core lies in the unlikely pairing of Death (played with warmth by Kirby Howell-Baptiste) and Sexton Furnival (an excellent Colin Morgan aka BBC’s Merlin) a depressed journalist teetering on the brink of suicide after feeling an overwhelming sense of despair at the state of the world.
Their journey begins as a reluctant chase, with Sexton fleeing the very figure he sought. However, it quickly evolves into a transformative quest as Death, in her guise as a mortal woman, gently nudges Sexton to confront the very reason for his despair: the world's irreparable brokenness.
Through their interactions, the narrative artfully suggests that even amidst horror, life's small, beautiful moments—a shared conversation, a simple act of kindness, a fleeting taste of happiness—are what make the experience worthwhile. This relationship is the vehicle for the episode's core message: that connection, even in a world filled with suffering, is the antidote to despair.
Howell-Baptiste brings a fresh, vibrant and profoundly empathetic energy to the character of Death. Her portrayal perfectly captures the character's paradoxical nature: she is both an ancient, all-powerful cosmic entity and a genuinely kind-hearted young woman who sees the beauty in every life, no matter how short or unremarkable. This warmth is crucial to the episode's tone, which, despite its heavy themes, never feels preachy or overly sentimental.
The show's direction and writing embraces a style that makes the mundane moments of the day feel special and significant, like the joy of a veggie wrap near a canal on a sunny day, or the throbbing lights from a nightclub.
Ultimately, Death: The High Cost of Living is a timely meditation on finding meaning in a world that often feels meaningless. It serves as a gentle reminder that the bitter tang of mortality, as the price for being alive, is inextricably linked to the sweet joys of existence. It challenges the viewer to embrace the fleeting nature of life, not as a cause for fear, but as a reason to cherish every moment and every connection. It challenges assumptions that there are just good and bad people; life is not binary and people are more complex and nuanced. As Death contemplates her immortal existence, she says, "You're human... you forget what it's like to not have free will." To be human is to suffer but also to have great joy, wonder and awe.
This episode provided a much-needed balm for the soul, offering a message of hope and resilience that resonated deeply with me during these increasingly troubled times.
