How Pluribus Made the Hive Mind Look So Damn Unsettling

Look, in an era where every sci-fi show slaps some VFX wizardry on everything and calls it a day, Vince Gilligan's Pluribus (or PLUR1BUS if you're terminally online and vibe with the stylized title) went full old-school practical. The "Others" – that blissful, creepy-ass hive mind collective – move like a single organism, parting like the Red Sea or swarming in perfect sync. It's peak uncanny valley, and it's not pixels doing the heavy lifting. It's hundreds of real humans drilled like a military parade on steroids. Absolute chef's kiss for making individuality feel obsolete.

We're talking scenes that hit different: the global task relay cold open in episode 2, the premiere's chaotic "Joining" night with over 300 bodies in eerie harmony, and that episode 4 circle-of-doom banger where the hive begs "Please, Carol" while parting for a defibrillator like it's scripted by God. No heavy CGI duplication here – just stunt coordinator Nito Larioza turning extras into a flock of human birds (or schooling fish, depending on who you ask).

The Inspiration: Fish Go Brrr, Birds Go Swoop

Vince Gilligan didn't pull this out of thin air. Dude was scuba diving in the Caribbean and got mind-blown by fish schooling:

“I used to scuba dive a little bit, and I was lucky enough to go down to the Caribbean. It fascinated me. These beautiful fish, they're all in a line, and then the lead fish all of a sudden turns a corner, like those light cycles in Tron.”

(From a Cracked behind-the-scenes roundup and Polygon breakdowns.)

Gilligan straight-up admits humans can't match that fluidity: “Nito did a great job training them, but you're never going to get people moving like fish.” Yet Larioza, the movement choreo GOAT (credits include Avatar and The Suicide Squad), leaned into bird flocks for his vibe:

“All of a sudden, you just see them connect with each other, and they create a great formation, and they go right and they go left, they all scatter and then all of a sudden they come bunched up all together again. So things like that, I always try to picture in my mind.”

That's from his Polygon interview on episode 4's massive stunt. The goal? That "energy" where individuality evaporates, and you get pure collective flow. In a show about losing your "I" to the "We," this practical approach slaps harder than any green-screen swarm.

Episode 4's Circle Scene: Peak Coordination Cope

Episode 4, "Please, Carol," is where the hive mind choreography goes nuclear. Carol (Rhea Seehorn, eternally slaying) triggers a crisis, and suddenly 200+ Others form a weeping, chanting circle around her and Zosia. They beg in unison, Zosia goes into cardiac arrest, and the circle parts perfectly for the defib team before closing up. Overhead shot? Chef's kiss levels of eerie.

Larioza called it one of season 1's toughest:

“My gosh, we did a lot of takes... It was super hot, and I didn't want to wear [the performers] out. We tried to put ’em in the shade and make sure they were cool. But I did a lot of prep for this. For a scene like that, it was all steps — the amount of steps they took, the timing of it, how many seconds.”

“I found a lot of talented people in New Mexico that really wanted to be a part of this scene, and it looked amazing, especially the overhead shot... It was awesome, but trust me, it was tough.”

How'd they pull it? Color-coded groups like a clock face, radial marks, PAs yelling cues to release waves of actors. Each group had exact step counts to hit the circle on time. Drill team energy:

“Like any other drill team — Marine Corps, army, or dance troop — I always put the people in the front that I know will hit their mark... And then I hate to say it like this, but [I put] the bad apples in the back, so they can follow.”

And to kill personal swagger? Auditions were brutal on individuality:

“I don't want no hands in your pockets, I don't want you to be swaying [your hands when you walk], I want it very pedestrian, very simple, guys... Everybody had a sway to their walk. Everybody had a different energy... I just always told 'em, ‘Bring it down, bring it down 20 percent, 30 percent less on the arms, keep it simple.’”

The secret sauce for those serene, happy hive faces?

“I'll try to put 'em in a happy place. ‘What makes you happy? What is your favorite food? Chocolate? Think about chocolate. Think about Hawaii.’ So it puts them in that mood, and that energy.”

"Think of chocolate" is lowkey the series' mantra for hive bliss. Iconic.

The Premiere's Joining: 300+ Bodies, Zero CGI Dupe

Rhea Seehorn spilled on filming the premiere's night-of-the-Joining chaos, where the world goes catatonic then snaps into hive mode:

“Instead of using any CGI, where Vince could duplicate people in post-production and have this movement be synchronized, he had this incredible choreographer named Nito [Larioza] who had separate rehearsals with these people to decide with Vince, ‘What do the convulsions look like?’”

(From a Collider interview.) They mobilized over 300 performers for that sequence – cars crashing, fires, everyone knowing Carol's name and deets. It's reverse-zombie apocalypse vibes: no violence, just pampering isolation. The practical commitment makes it hit harder, turning comedy-thriller-horror into something profoundly disturbing.

That Episode 2 Global Relay Cold Open? Straight Fire

Early reviewers were gagged by episode 2's opening: a seamless global handoff of tasks, pod-person to pod-person, showcasing the hive's worldwide coordination.

One blog called it "impressive" for visualizing the collective ops – no dialogue, just fluid relay-race energy across continents. Again, practical shoots in multiple locations (Albuquerque sets, Spain, Canary Islands) sell the scale without leaning on VFX crutches.

Why Practical Hive Mind Wins in 2025

In a world drowning in AI slop and deepfake fatigue, Pluribus betting on real bodies moving in unison feels revolutionary. It's grueling – heat, endless takes, step-count obsessions – but the payoff is that raw, analog creep factor. Gilligan and Larioza didn't just make a hive mind; they made it feel like lost individuality, one synchronized step at a time.

No wonder the show's blowing up timelines. If you're not watching, what are you even doing? Join the discourse... or resist like Carol. Your call.