Self-driving buggies transport them to a cabin, where they’re given the option to sleep together, or not. But there are other questions hovering around: Why do Frank, Amy, and all these other attractive young adults live inside some kind of sealed dome, “Hang the DJ,” directed by the TV veteran Tim Van Patten, has the artificial-world sheen of “Nosedive,” with its brightly colored cabins, soulless restaurants, and ubiquitous talking devices.
Things must have been “mental” before “the system,” they agree. It also has moments that feel like a critique of Tinder and its counterparts, like the scene in which Amy proceeds through a sped-up montage of different relationships and sexual encounters as if outside her own body, detached and dehumanized.
Other stations soon followed, and local radio found its second life.
The invention of the transistor, and subsequently the development of lightweight, portable radios, along with the inclusion of radios in cars, helped the reinvented band find a new audience with people on the go.
But the twist in the end turned a sweet-love-story-slash-Tinder-fable into something more intriguing, and the way the chapter hinted at a larger conspiracy throughout was masterfully structured.But the crux of the episode is a broader thought experiment: Frank and Amy are actually simulations, one pair of a thousand digital versions of the real Frank and Amy, who in actual fact have never met each other.Their avatars are a way for a dating app to test their compatibility, and whether or not they elect to try and escape from the dome together decides whether they’re a match. It’s a twist that ties “Hang the DJ” to “USS Callister,” as well as “San Junipero” and “White Christmas” and all the other episodes that consider the replication of human souls.Who decided to make the first story most viewers will see in the series one where the British Prime Minister has sex with a pig?If you’re bingeing Season 4, what’s the emotional impact of swooping from the kitschy “USS Callister” to the bleak “Arkangel” to the even bleaker “Crocodile” to an episode like “Hang the DJ”—a segue that needs a Monty Python–esque disclaimer of, “And now for something completely different”?