Years and Years: The Dystopian TV Show That Hits a Little Too Close to Home

When TV Feels Like Real Life: The Chilling World of Years and Years

If TV ever made you squirm about what could go wrong in the real world, Years and Years takes that discomfort and cranks it way up. Russell T Davies—best known for giving new life to Doctor Who—switched gears completely here, dropping viewers into a near-future Britain speeding toward chaos. Forget far-off apocalypses or alien invasions. The monsters in this series are alarmingly familiar: political extremism, unchecked technology, and a creeping sense that democracy can fall apart faster than anyone wants to believe.

The show centers on the Lyons family, a British bunch just trying to live their lives amid swirling headlines and growing uncertainty. You’ve got Stephen, the stressed-out eldest brother trying to provide; Daniel, whose search for happiness is always one step out of reach; Beth, the youngest, wrestling with her identity; Fran, navigating life on the outskirts; and Muriel, the sharp-tongued grandmother keeping the crew together. Over the span of fifteen years—kicking off in 2019 and speeding into the 2030s—the Lyons face everything from rising sea levels and economic crashes to government crackdowns and privacy vanishing in a sea of surveillance cameras.

Vivienne Rook: The Face of Populist Danger

But what really propels Years and Years is Emma Thompson’s turn as Vivienne Rook, the TV personality-turned-firebrand politician. She’s outrageous, saying the unsayable and thriving on division. At first, she seems like a late-night joke. Then, almost overnight, her rise becomes very real. Watching her climb the political ladder doesn’t feel like science fiction—it feels like reading tomorrow’s headlines. That raw energy, that sense that nothing is off-limits for someone hungry for power, is where the terror takes root.

Behind the camera, directors Simon Cellan Jones and Lisa Mulcahy keep the tension high and the pace relentless. Each episode pulls the Lyons deeper into a mess of crisis after crisis: a snap decision here, a government overreach there, mass protests turning to violence on the streets. It’s all scarily plausible, because none of it is cartoonish. Instead, these disasters simmer, fueled by the same small fears and arguments we see every day—until suddenly life as everyone knew it is gone.

What’s wild is how Davies ties all these threads together through the Lyons family’s daily struggles. Love doesn’t stop, teenagers still make bad choices, and siblings keep fighting over holiday plans—even as the world around them shifts in ways that would terrify anyone. The show nails what it’s like to watch massive changes unfold while feeling powerless to stop them. That’s its secret weapon: reminding you that society isn’t just statistics and speeches, but people holding on to one another as the ground moves beneath their feet.

Praised by critics for being almost painfully relevant, the series snagged three Critics’ Choice Award nominations, including Best Limited Series. But the real trophy is how viewers walk away thinking: this isn’t just drama—it’s a warning. The years may be fiction, but the fears, the heartbreak, and the hope? All too real.