Before he started building the show’s recycled radios and scrap-metal computers, prop master Jonathan Norman went to “Silo” class. That level of training was necessary for the Apple TV+ sci-fi series about a post-apocalyptic future where the remnants of humanity are living inside the massive, titular building. They can’t leave because the air outside is poisonous, which means that generation after generation, the inhabitants assemble their world from whatever was hauled in when the first inhabitants arrived.
It took an enormous amount of planning to decide how this environment would look and function, especially after centuries of wear and tear. (In the series, which is based on Hugh Howey’s novels, it’s suggested people have been trapped inside for around 300 years.) “We had meetings with the writers and the directors, where we would sit in a room and work out what would be in the Silo,” Norman said. “So for example, there’s a lack of trees, so paper would be rare. Anything plastic would be recycled or reused for generations, so with anything plastic, we would create layers of imperfections. The glass would’ve been hand-blown, so anything we used, glass-wise, would have different textures and impurities. For anything we made, we used that concept of how it would have been made [in the world of the show].”
And Norman’s team, which is currently in production on the series’ second season, has to make almost everything. Very few items can be purchased, because characters can’t believably acquire mass-produced goods. According to Norman, it takes a Silo-sized village to pull this off: “We’ve got a workshop with probably 40 people, from 3D mold makers to metalworkers to graphic designers.”
Sometimes, the fruits of this labor are obvious. Rudimentary computers are a significant part of the plot, as Sheriff Juliette Nichols (played by Rebecca Ferguson) becomes aware that sinister forces are spying on everyone at all times. The clunky desktops that comprise the Silo’s surveillance network are in constant view, and the machines’ technical limitations need to be clear.
Since they’re made from salvaged parts, they also have to look convincingly homemade. “It’s one steel, flat plate and a simple speaker,” Norman said. “It’s as practical as could be. It’s designed to be as simple as possible to really tell the viewer that this is a controlled environment.”
“Silo”Apple TV+
That level of detail isn’t confined to the showpiece props. Something as simple as duct tape, which becomes important in the Season 1 finale, was painstakingly assembled. Norman explained, “It wasn’t a case of just buying a roll of tape. We had about 30 different designs with imprints that we had to get approved. We printed the imprints. We attached them to a lathe. We bought some strips of metal, and we fed it through, and we created the tape ourselves. We did that because that’s the process that would’ve been done in the Silo.”
Norman argued that even if viewers don’t consciously notice the duct tape looks handcrafted, the prop still has a subliminal impact. “No one’s ever seen tape with these weird imperfections, because it doesn’t exist,” he said. “And because it doesn’t exist in the real world, when you see it on our show, it helps you to immerse yourself in our world. It’s another little thing that adds to your awareness that we’ve created a Silo.”
As a series, “Silo” does indeed feel remarkably concrete. Though it uses digital effects, it’s still the rare sci-fi show that seems to be happening in a tangible, actual place. The walls and staircases and apartments are tactile, not added later with CGI. Objects are designed to be handled, and their practicality adds a crackle of life to the storytelling.
Norman explained that all the props were created with this quality in mind: In order to give them the appropriate heft, the sheriff’s badges were cast in brass and the Silo’s currency was cast in pewter. In every copy of the Silo’s pact — a code of conduct for the residents — the first 20 pages were filled with actual rules and regulations, written in consultation with Howey himself. An ancient Pez dispenser, which is one of the few factory-made items in the show, was distressed in a manner that suggests it’s been passed down for generations. (“Silo” has an entire “distressing team” just to address how a piece of plastic like this might degrade over time.)
This is all done to increase the fictional world’s authenticity. “It’s madness, really,” Norman said. “We’ve done all this to make the Silo a real place. You could create a ‘Silo’ museum with the amount of props that we have.”
It took an enormous amount of planning to decide how this environment would look and function, especially after centuries of wear and tear. (In the series, which is based on Hugh Howey’s novels, it’s suggested people have been trapped inside for around 300 years.) “We had meetings with the writers and the directors, where we would sit in a room and work out what would be in the Silo,” Norman said. “So for example, there’s a lack of trees, so paper would be rare. Anything plastic would be recycled or reused for generations, so with anything plastic, we would create layers of imperfections. The glass would’ve been hand-blown, so anything we used, glass-wise, would have different textures and impurities. For anything we made, we used that concept of how it would have been made [in the world of the show].”
And Norman’s team, which is currently in production on the series’ second season, has to make almost everything. Very few items can be purchased, because characters can’t believably acquire mass-produced goods. According to Norman, it takes a Silo-sized village to pull this off: “We’ve got a workshop with probably 40 people, from 3D mold makers to metalworkers to graphic designers.”
Sometimes, the fruits of this labor are obvious. Rudimentary computers are a significant part of the plot, as Sheriff Juliette Nichols (played by Rebecca Ferguson) becomes aware that sinister forces are spying on everyone at all times. The clunky desktops that comprise the Silo’s surveillance network are in constant view, and the machines’ technical limitations need to be clear.
Since they’re made from salvaged parts, they also have to look convincingly homemade. “It’s one steel, flat plate and a simple speaker,” Norman said. “It’s as practical as could be. It’s designed to be as simple as possible to really tell the viewer that this is a controlled environment.”
“Silo”Apple TV+
That level of detail isn’t confined to the showpiece props. Something as simple as duct tape, which becomes important in the Season 1 finale, was painstakingly assembled. Norman explained, “It wasn’t a case of just buying a roll of tape. We had about 30 different designs with imprints that we had to get approved. We printed the imprints. We attached them to a lathe. We bought some strips of metal, and we fed it through, and we created the tape ourselves. We did that because that’s the process that would’ve been done in the Silo.”
Norman argued that even if viewers don’t consciously notice the duct tape looks handcrafted, the prop still has a subliminal impact. “No one’s ever seen tape with these weird imperfections, because it doesn’t exist,” he said. “And because it doesn’t exist in the real world, when you see it on our show, it helps you to immerse yourself in our world. It’s another little thing that adds to your awareness that we’ve created a Silo.”
As a series, “Silo” does indeed feel remarkably concrete. Though it uses digital effects, it’s still the rare sci-fi show that seems to be happening in a tangible, actual place. The walls and staircases and apartments are tactile, not added later with CGI. Objects are designed to be handled, and their practicality adds a crackle of life to the storytelling.
Norman explained that all the props were created with this quality in mind: In order to give them the appropriate heft, the sheriff’s badges were cast in brass and the Silo’s currency was cast in pewter. In every copy of the Silo’s pact — a code of conduct for the residents — the first 20 pages were filled with actual rules and regulations, written in consultation with Howey himself. An ancient Pez dispenser, which is one of the few factory-made items in the show, was distressed in a manner that suggests it’s been passed down for generations. (“Silo” has an entire “distressing team” just to address how a piece of plastic like this might degrade over time.)
This is all done to increase the fictional world’s authenticity. “It’s madness, really,” Norman said. “We’ve done all this to make the Silo a real place. You could create a ‘Silo’ museum with the amount of props that we have.”