AppleTV+’s latest foray into sci-fi is short on resolutions but long on atmosphere.

It is, perhaps, a bit unfair to start a review of Constellation by noting its similarities to The Cloverfield Paradox. Still, they’re undeniably evident in the early going. The show opens with an international collection of astronauts facing an emergency in the wake of an incredible experiment. In the aftermath, evidence mounts that fatalities and damage to the space station were not the only consequences. Those who stayed up late after the Super Bowl to watch the third film in the ­Cloverfield anthology brand (?) will likely hear how similar that plot sounds. Thankfully, AppleTV+’s new series comes out looking favorable in the comparison.

A significant reason why is Constellation is far more interested in mining horror from what happens when Jo (Noomi Rapace) returns to Earth. As the astronaut left behind longest on the dying space station, her sense of disconnect is initially entirely understandable. However, as her experiences increasingly fail to match the realities of everyone around her, the suggestion that she’s experiencing nothing more than some short-term trauma response breaks down. Something happened to Jo, something she’s brought back to Earth with her.

Rapace sets the table well for her character’s unraveling, making Jo an immediately warm and likable character within the few minutes we know her before the accident in outer space. The way she recedes into herself as she begins to gain an understanding of what’s happened to her is thus more noticeable and tragic. The warm and broad smile of her introduction bleeds out before the audience’s eyes, leaving a cold figure of wan complexion and sharp angles. When one character accuses her of not being herself, it’s a dual declaration. Perhaps Jo is literally not herself, but viewers can be certain that who she was before going into space has been stripped away.

While Jo’s husband Magnus (James D’Arcy) seems stuck forever playing catch up and sidelined as a result, their daughter Alice (Rosie Coleman) is close to the series’ second lead. Coleman holds her own against Rapace, turning in an unusual child performance. She’s impressively internal without being swallowed by the show’s events. Constellation calls on her to subtly differentiate between Alice in different places and times as the story becomes increasingly fractured and non-linear. While costuming and makeup help, Coleman ensures the double act works even if you don’t immediately notice the different hat.

Jonathan Banks provides the third leg of the show’s tripod as former astronaut turned project supervisor Henry Caldera. Obsessed with the experiment that preceded the space station accident, he hints its importance outweighs the life of Jo or anyone else. At other times, however, Henry presents as her biggest—and perhaps only—ally. Banks laces his performance with a mix of rage and desperation that he buries the moment someone else is looking. 

In truth, though, the biggest star of Constellation turns out to be vibes. When not in the vacuum of space or the undifferentiated white of a snowstorm outside a lakeside cabin, the series progressively drapes everything in the flat blues of winter at dusk. The score by Ben Salisbury and Suvi-Eeva Äikäs throbs with menace throughout, rendering it a kind of unreliable narrator. It constantly puts the audience on the edge of their seat only to reveal a nonthreatening empty room. This is a series that teases jump scares but never delivers, marooning viewers in a low-level anxiety attack. It’s hard to imagine recommending such a thing. Still, one can’t help but admire the skill with which creator Peter Harness’s team stubbornly refuses to fall back on shock and shlock. Instead, again and again, it suggests horror in a way that still seizes the heart.

While the series eventually provides answers, it will disappoint viewers seeking full explanations and tidy wrap-ups. Explanations are incomplete. Plotlines end on ellipses, not full stops. As a result, Constellation could conceivably roll into a second season. However, forgoing the kind of clean wrap-up another season might provide serves it best. The ambiguity enhances the experience, acting as a feature, not a bug. When the final episode wraps, it sends viewers back into the world with nerves jangled and questions lingering. It’s an insightful fraction of what Jo must be experiencing.  

Constellation gazes through a telescope and into the abyss of AppleTV+ on February 21.

Constellation Trailer: