Toward the end of the first episode of Pluribus, Carol (Rhea Seehorn), a woman put in a bizarre and impossible scenario, asks a very straightforward question: “What the fuck is happening?” It’s something you’ll likely be asking yourself a lot while watching. I certainly did. But that ongoing sense of mystery, and the measured pace with which Pluribus reveals itself, is one of the best parts of the new series from Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan. I can’t tell you a lot about Pluribus just yet — but I can tell you that being bewildered is part of the appeal.

Okay, so what can I tell you? Carol is a successful writer of fantasy novels — excuse me, “speculative historical romance literature” — and she hates both her work and her audience. She wants to do something more meaningful, but the money she rakes in from her books makes it hard to make the switch. Despite being rich and successful, and having a caring partner who doubles as her very capable manager (Miriam Shor), Carol is mostly miserable, though she’s largely able to fake it in public.

But all that changes when… something happens. I don’t want to get too deep into spoilers before the show premieres (the first two episodes are streaming on November 7th), but the conceit of Pluribus is that following a global event that is almost apocalyptic in nature, nearly every person on Earth is inflicted with a dose of unyielding happiness. They become peaceful and collaborative and unable to cause harm to any living thing. Carol remains unaffected — but not for a lack of trying. Early on, when she’s outside of a hospital that looks like a warzone, the “others” — which is what I’ll call these happy folks for now — try to bring her over to their side. When it doesn’t work and she freaks out, they all say in unison, “We just want to help, Carol!”

It’s extremely creepy and puts Carol in a difficult position. Normally she just complains about everything wrong with the world, but now she’s just about the only person who can actually save it. Of course, how she goes about that isn’t so easy to figure out. One person up against a few billion puts her at a serious disadvantage. The thing is, while the others want Carol to be a part of their group, they also are willing to do seemingly anything to make her happy. It’s part of their nature; in fact, when Carol gets really upset or angry, it actually physically harms them. This creates a fascinating tension as she has to regulate her emotions while going through an unimaginably stressful situation.

There’s a lot going on, and the first two episodes are mostly about Carol coming to grips with the bizarre situation. Which is good, because it gives viewers time to come to grips with it as well. While Pluribus has some of the energy of a post-apocalyptic story, it’s also completely unlike them in many ways. Because, really, does this world actually need saving? No one in The Walking Dead wants to be a flesh-eating zombie. But turning into a perpetually chipper person? Well, that might not be so bad. As one of the others says early on, the day the change happened was the “greatest day in the history of humanity,” and it’s not impossible to understand why some might agree, even if Carol certainly doesn’t.

Pluribus really digs into the nitty-gritty of how this new and very unique world works, and it isn’t afraid to take its time doing so. There’s a level of trust that Gilligan and his team have put into the show’s structure. “The older I get, the more confident I get, not in terms of my abilities but in the wisdom of the audience,” Gilligan told me ahead of the premiere. “The kind of shows that we create attract really smart viewers.”

That’s why there are long, often dialogue-free sequences depicting, say, a woman getting on a plane and flying halfway around the world. You don’t know why she’s doing it at all initially, or even who she is, but the show rewards your patience. The same goes for seemingly boring practical details like how food production works in a world where most of humanity is incapable of harming any living creature. These aspects of the story provide some of the most impactful — and occasionally disturbing — revelations. Pluribus has a strange premise, but the show’s creators also think it through to its logical conclusion (at least that’s true early on; I haven’t seen the whole season yet).

This slow drip of reveals and information is absorbing because Pluribus is such a well-executed show. This is especially true when it comes to Seehorn’s performance, which anchors the whole thing. Carol is not a typical heroic character; she’s a miserable and often frustrating character, and yet it’s hard to keep your eyes off of Seehorn, who makes you laugh, cry, and want to wring her neck, often all at the same time.

Which means that while those “What the fuck?” moments are common, they’re not frustrating like they can be in similar shows. (Sorry, Lost.) The reveals aren’t gotcha moments. Pluribus isn’t a puzzle box meant to be solved. It’s a story with a lot of strange and complicated things to share with you — and it’s more than comfortable taking its time doing just that.

_{The first two episodes of Pluribus are streaming on Apple TV on November 7th.}