"Its take on teenagers’ inner lives is brutishly unsophisticated compared to, say, Sex Education or The End of the F***ing World – so it throws as much cool stuff as it can in your face to distract you," says Jack Seale of the post-apocalyptic dramedy starring Matthew Broderick. "Broken fourth walls, ironic slo-mo montages, characters observing storytelling tropes as they participate in them: every meta trick available is deployed to mask the show’s empty emotional core." Seale adds: "Daybreak’s creators would, you suspect, think their lack of a coherent message or consistent voice is a feature, not a bug. This is binge telly, a stack of sugary carbs to be unthinkingly gorged on. Halfway through the season there’s a twist so obvious that, as it’s about to be revealed, you lazily wonder if the guess you made three episodes ago will turn out to be wrong. Surely it won’t just be … oh, it is. You could argue that the series evokes a plausibly apocalyptic feeling of nothing mattering any more."
ALSO:
Daybreak isn't necessarily bad, but it revolves around the wrong character: "To its detriment, Daybreak exhausts its energy attempting to convince the audience that (Colin Ford's) Josh—a perfectly affable guy made distinguishable only by a cluster of ham-fisted Ferris Bueller references and some seriously contrived, fourth wall-obliterating dialogue—has a story worth following," says Shannon Miller, adding: "The audience is granted some reprieve whenever the spotlight shines on Angelica or Wesley, the perspective and style shifting in kind: Crime boss-like voiceovers for the former, indulgent, anime-style narrative for the latter. These pivots add amusing textures while emphasizing Daybreak’s potential beyond its designated lead."