Penelope

Eslyn’s work feels effortless but with a strange complexity just below the surface, and it’s hard to imagine the disappointment and the resulting emotion after viewing whatever’s to come. Maybe it’s a show about a girl’s inner journey; perhaps she just wants to experience nature. Whatever the case, I can hardly wait.

Penelope is already operating from the inside out, in all the ways that truly matter. While there is still a lot to uncover in the road ahead, wherever the series goes next, we’re right there alongside Penelope for every subsequent step she'll take.

This eight-part series, presented in easily digestible installments of about half an hour, might have been inspired by a kid’s daydream, albeit with perils no kid ever dreamt of happily. It also has an ending that will bring one up short. But that will be a reward for the resolute. .... Ms. [Megan] Stott is about as alone as Penelope tends to be, while blazing a trail of her own.

The ideas and conversations happening in “Penelope” are hardly the stuff of thesis papers. But they’re basic, elemental questions about the human condition, and few shows like it explore them with such emotional rawness.

We enjoyed Penelope because Megan Stott’s performance is a clinic in solo acting, and we appreciate the story’s fantasy aspects. But those nagging questions that pop into our heads while watching it just don’t go away.

What motivates Penelope only reveals itself gradually and doesn’t necessarily make any sense, but the series alternates between grounded realism and poetic “please don’t look for realism” whimsy.

“Penelope” doesn’t need extra characters or artificial action. It’s most compelling when Stott, whose organic screen presence carries so many silent scenes, is immersed in nature.