Pluribus Review: This Sci-Fi Horror Will Completely Mess With Your Head

If you tried to describe Pluribus in a nutshell, you might compare it to classics like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The first episode certainly leans into the familiar dread of an alien conquest, though it's apparent that creator Vince Gilligan wants to explore something far stranger. But the show's most recent episode, complete with a wild cameo, confirms that Pluribus is playing a completely different game.

A World Overrun

The premiere episode dives straight into body horror, showing victims convulsing violently as the alien infection takes over, a process not everyone survives. More than 800 million people die, including the partner of our protagonist, Carol, who watches helplessly. While that's terrifying on its own, the nature of the contagion creates a much deeper unease. We never see the aliens' true form because they inhabit human bodies, all wearing the same vacant, plastered-on smile. The dominance of this force, called "The Joined," is established as absolute. From Carol's perspective, their takeover is so swift that any thought of fighting back seems pointless, especially since the rest of humanity appears to have already surrendered.

A Disturbing Discovery

The horror in Pluribus isn't about jump scares; it's about a creeping, existential dread. The Joined openly state their goal: to eventually assimilate Carol and the 12 other immune individuals. They calmly inform her that it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to bypass her immunity, with the entirety of humanity's collective intelligence now working on the problem. This creates a chilling sense of finality, amplified by Carol's profound loneliness in a world that is no longer hers.

The new normal is anything but, and Carol begins making videos for other survivors, hoping to find a way to reverse what's happened. She believes there's a chance to undo The Joining, and she has the freedom to investigate after The Joined leave her city because they "need a little space" from her. Her investigation leads her to a strange pattern: public trash cans are overflowing with empty milk cartons. She soon realizes The Joined aren't drinking milk but a "strange yellow liquid." This trail eventually takes her to a dog-food factory named Agri-jet, where she finds something far more gruesome wrapped in plastic. The episode cuts to credits right after her horrified gasp, leaving viewers to wonder what she saw. The next episode reveals the truth in classic scary movie style: the factory is filled with shrink-wrapped human heads and other body parts. "This is what this whole plant is being used for," Carol says. "Right under our noses."

The Unsettling Truth

For a show that constantly defies expectations, this reveal feels almost conventional. Of course the sinister aliens are eating people. It seems like Pluribus is finally settling into a more traditional genre narrative. But Gilligan is far too clever for that. The entire setup, from the found-footage style of the discovery to its apparent predictability, is a deliberate misdirection. After the opening credits, the show abruptly cuts to a hot tub party in LA, where another survivor, Koumba, is living it up. When Carol rushes in to tell him the horrifying truth he already knows. "Is this about them eating people?" he asks casually, completely deflating her panic. "It is troubling," he adds, with a tone that suggests the opposite.

The sheer horror of the discovery is instantly flipped on its head. How could he be so calm about this? The answer arrives in the form of an unsettling infomercial led by none other than John Cena. The actor plays himself, but he's been absorbed into the collective consciousness of The Joined. He explains that The Joined have a limited food supply. Their core programming prevents them from harming any life, which means they can't harvest crops or kill animals. With 7 billion mouths to feed, they faced starvation.

A New Kind of Horror

Cena calmly explains that their yellow liquid food source is comprised of 8-12% HDP, or human-derived protein. This protein is sourced from the roughly 100,000 people who die of natural causes every day. By consuming their remains, The Joined believe they are honoring the memory of the fallen. "We're not that keen on it, but we're left with little choice," Cena concludes with a charming smile. The explanation is so logical, so professionally packaged, that it's almost understandable. Koumba admits he's not "pleased with this," but he has accepted it as a necessary reality.

This is where the show's true horror lies. What began as a story about malevolent cannibalism transforms into something more disturbing: a nightmare justified by banal logic. The use of statistics and acronyms strips the emotion from the act, forcing Carol—and the audience—to confront an ethically twisted but seemingly rational situation. We are almost persuaded to sympathize with their actions. The plot then moves on, focusing again on Carol's isolation and a new discovery that consent is required for assimilation, but the chilling reality of humanity's new food source lingers, all thanks to John Cena's unsettlingly reasonable presentation.