The Fall Of The House Of Usher review: The guy who does horror with heart takes on the heartless
Mike Flanagan’s final series for Netflix is inspired by the tales of Edgar Allan Poe
TV Reviews The Fall of the House of Usher
Horror is inherently psychological. That ghost, monster, or indestructible serial killer? A stand-in for some mental or emotional problem. Through tension and release, scary stories serve a kind of therapeutic function. Too often, though, the humans in horror seem shallow (with some notable exceptions). Maybe there’s a limit to how much inner life the genre can bear before story machinery must—jump scare!—take over. That’s why writer-director Mike Flanagan is so refreshing: He honors the supernatural imperatives of ghost stories or vampire tales, but ensures they happen to people we care about, heroes capable of getting sober or overcoming generational trauma. In his latest—and last—Netflix series, The Fall Of The House Of Usher (out October 12), Flanagan torments six horrible children of wealth and privilege, testing our capacity to empathize with them. Here, the guy who does horror with heart takes on the heartless.
From the title down, Edgar Allan Poe is the touchstone for this eight-episode gothic family thriller, just as Shirley Jackson and Henry James were jumping-off points for The Haunting Of Hill House and The Haunting Of Bly Manor. Flanagan fans (Fanagans?) are familiar with his formula: modern riffs on classic weird lit strewn with Easter eggs from the particular author’s oeuvre. Character names (Annabel Lee, Dupin, Prospero, etc.) are lifted from Poe’s tales or poems; episodes titled “Murder In The Rue Morgue,” “The Black Cat,” and so forth tip us off as to who dies by the end of the installment.
Fear no spoilers. The very first scene of “A Midnight Dreary” is a funeral for the last three children of CEO and patriarch Roderick Usher (Bruce Greenwood), who broods in the pew as a priest intones lines from the Baltimore bard’s elegiac “Spirits Of The Dead.” Leaving the church for his limo, Roderick, who suffers from vascular dementia, collapses on the sidewalk and sees a raven perched ominously on top of a gate. Stick a pin in that black birdie, the fatal thread that links Roderick’s rise as head of Fortunato Pharmaceuticals alongside his driven, brilliant sister, Madeline (Mary McDonnell), and the violent destruction of his clan. The series unfolds as a string of morality tales in which the sins of the father are visited upon the equally corrupt heads of the offspring.
Given the ultra-rich family and Big Pharma context, one assumes that Flanagan was taking notes on Succession and Dopesick. Fortunato is the manufacturer of Ligadone, a fictional painkiller that has caused an opioid epidemic, prompting a lawsuit leveled by D.A. Auguste Dupin (Carl Lumbly). When Dupin announces in court that the prosecution has an informant inside the Usher circle, waves of recrimination and paranoia sweep the backstabbing siblings. Cue family lawyer Arthur Pym (Mark Hamill), a scowling, rasping fixer who hands out ironclad NDAs around the family dinner table.
Framing the season is Roderick’s post-funeral dialogue with Dupin, who has been summoned by the six-time bereaved pop to the Ushers’ crumbling family home one night. Sitting across from his legal adversary bathed in candlelight, sipping on million-dollar cognac, Roderick agrees to plead guilty to state charges in exchange for someone hearing his confession. Given the original Poe tale, and the fact that we hear Madeline is banging around in the basement, this isn’t going to end happily. Roderick’s dementia means his narration is frequently interrupted by sudden (and effectively spooky) hallucinations of his deceased progeny—melted by toxic waste, stabbed through the heart, or mauled by chimpanzees.
Once you get the death-per-episode, anthology-like setup, there’s not a lot of mystery to Usher, as Flanagan and his writers knock each character off and fill in backstory through flashbacks. It’s generally enjoyable seeing the puzzle pieces come together, especially with Carla Gugino woven throughout as Verna, a demon ex machina who pops up in everyone’s storyline (crucially in Roderick and Madeline’s early years), tempting them to the precipice of their own vice, madness, or egomania. The always magnetic Gugino gets to flaunt her range: One minute she’s a masked temptress at an orgy, then a bored security guard; and next she’s a Southern lady with a failing heart in need of cutting-edge medical tech. Who is this sinister, ubiquitous spirit? Death? Karma?
As usual, Flanagan works with the same actors in project after project, giving his work the unity and warm familiarity of a repertory theater troupe. Kate Siegel (also his wife) turns in another ice-cold, cutting portrayal as one of Usher’s “bastard” offspring, Camille, a cynical PR flack who sleeps with her two assistants. The two other illegitimate spawn are dissipated playboys: drug-addled gamer Leo (Rahul Kohli) and sadistic party boy Prospero (Sauriyan Sapkota). The older kids are represented by Victorine (T’Nia Miller), a desperately ambitious medical researcher who wants to pioneer a “smart heart mesh.” Tamerlaine (Samantha Sloyan) runs a Goop lifestyle knockoff and suffers from chronic insomnia. And then there’s Frederick (Henry Thomas, drolly effete), a useless elder boy just waiting for the old man to die already.
As their reptilian aunt Madeleine, McDonnell is a hoot, matching a contemptuous drawl to her deadpan façade, sizing up enemies to methodically bring them down. Greenwood, a sturdy if rarely exciting performer, brings the requisite gravitas and flashes of remorse, even if his character’s reputed womanizing and foul-mouthed corporate swagger feel hollow. (Frank Langella, originally cast as Roderick, was fired after misbehavior on set—and he would have exuded more menace and hedonism than the too-wholesome Greenwood.)
More than Flanagan’s previous outings at Netflix, Usher is stuffed with sex, drugs, and ostentatious swearing. It’s also his queerest work, with half the Ushers gay or bisexual and apparently insatiable. Perry aspires to be an orgy entrepreneur; Tammy pays sex workers to dine with and screw her husband while she watches; Victorine sleeps with her heart-surgeon business partner. For all the decadence, nudity, and pop-culture name-dropping, Flanagan and his team don’t neglect the writing, which has always been his strong suit. Camille has an especially vivid speech in which she catalogues the fecklessness of her family members, ending with herself as a soulless publicist: “I just spin. Dad decided that I belong in a room of smoke and mirrors, and I’m like a ceiling fan and I spin and I spin and I spin and I don’t go anywhere. Ushers don’t make stuff. None of us.”
Campy, acted with flair, and boasting lush, operatic death sequences (bravo Michael Fimognari), Usher is sparkly but not deep, more box Merlot than Amontillado. It never achieves the narrative momentum or emotional resonance of Flanagan’s finest: the extraordinary Midnight Mass and most of Hill House, not to mention the elegant bridging of Kubrick and King he engineered in Doctor Sleep. Nearly every episode could be tightened; several flashback scenes drag; and the ending is too pat. Since there’s hardly a likable Usher here (except for an ethical granddaughter), and the vitriol’s not nearly as baroque as Succession, these snakes can wear out their welcome. (Poe’s advice from the grave: keep ’em short!) Still, it might serve as a Halloween binge with fellow Fanagans. Gather your nearest and dearest, pour cheap cognac (or fruit juice), and hear the raven croak its dreadful message.
The Fall Of The House Of Usher premieres October 12 on Netflix
77 Comments
So glad for the “Midnight Mass” love in this review – extraordinary is definitely the right word. I’m a bit disappointed to hear the style employed in “Usher” – killing of the week and oversexed. I know it won’t be boring, but if the heart is missing, Flanagan has done himself a disservice which such great source material. Hopefully, there’ll be a degree of suspense. But having a story stuffed with unlikeable people ala “Succession” is a tightrope that doesn’t seem best walked by such an emotionally adept creator like Flanagan, who has a great deal of empathy for his characters.
Midnight Mass was so good. Truly his best work. Hamish Linklater should’ve won the Emmy.
I will never stop singing Linklater’s praises. Best TV performance I’ve ever seen.
Looks good
We seem to have quite the star cast for this one? Is Flanagan a major star name to work for in this business these days?
They’re mostly people he’s worked with in the past — Flanagan is one of those directors who has a standard troupe of actors he deploys in his various projects. The new names are basically Hamill and McDonnell, and however beloved they are in nerd circles, they’re not exactly A-listers any more. There was, of course, Frank Langella, but we see how that worked out.
Surprised the article didn’t call out Gerald’s Game, which was a tremendous adaptation of a novel I had considered unfilmable since so much goes on in the trapped wife’s head.
That’s a good one. Been meaning to rewatch someday.
Not to mention Greenwood, Gugino and Thomas are the leads in that one as well.
I loved Gerald’s Game, absolutely fantastic. Until the last ten minutes, which I hate so much it pisses me off when I think about the movie.
(I know it’s King’s fault because that’s in the original story, but goddammit I do feel it really ruins an amazing movie.)
That’s actually an Easter egg in one of the later episodes. The granddaughter is watching movies with her mom and she browses to Gerald’s Game on Netflix
They already booted off Frank Langela due to inappropriate actions on the set. His character is the one Bruce Greenwood replace.
I’m trying to imagine Frank in the role… And can’t. I can certainly in some scenes, and while I’ve never been a big Langella fan (reading his “everyone wanted me to fuck them because I was the most beautiful man alive and some lucky people got what they wanted” memoirs didn’t help) but he IS a strong actor so maybe he would have surprised me. But I am not sure I’d buy him as Mary McDonnell’s twin sibling…
The age difference between Frank and Mary also seems too far gap to cover. Given The Usher siblings supposed to be a twin.
Yes, exactly.
If a show says “Carla Gugino or Eva Green is in this” they’ve already got my viewership. More smoldering, older sexy spooki mommies for me plz
Yeah I HATE to compare him to Ryan Murphy (although so far Usher *does* have some rather Murphy elements in design/camp, just done better) but like Murphy, he already has a group of actors to pull from with usually only a few being new to one of his projects by this point (in fact at least five of the younger characters here are played by actors I liked but never knew before in his teen show Midnight Club.)
Tempted by Carla Gugino (of course)
Well, I was going to watch it because I like the Vincent Price/Roger Corman Poe films, but now I have to watch it.
Does Mike Flanagan know horror is supposed to be scary??
Do you know that scary is highly subjective?
As a multi-billionaire asshole, I found the series terrifying.
Oh come on. “Flanafans.”
What is the ratio of scares:florid monologues? Maybe it’s because my family was never religious, but Midnight Mass was my least favorite. To me it felt like it explored well-trod existential themes without going much deeper, though it was an interesting concept. And he *really* let loose with the monologuing in that one.
Also, is AV Club doing episodic reviews, or will I have to come back to this comments section to discuss? Or even… find some people to talk about it with in real life?!
Keep an eye on (carrion-eating bird) V*LT*RE. They recap series that AVClub would probably have once done. With an easy-to-navigate toggle at the top of every episode review for previous or next episode. And if you scroll down past the ‘NOW SHOWING’ being reviewed, their ‘ALL SHOWS’ library of previous TV Recaps is a treasure trove. Some interesting to-fro in the comment section, too.
Thanks for the reminder! Tip also to others: there’s a paywall, but I’ve been able to get around it by opening an incognito browser for each new page I want to read (I know, I know, I’m part of the problem).
I’m ‘part of the problem’ on another site with a…glitch, and lurk on others since cancelling their subscriptions.
But I got a deal on NY/Vulture/The Cut/Intelligencer/etc.-which-I-don’t-really-read that improved when I cancelled upon the sub’s first expiry.
They repackage news, too,
such as The Cut’s take on a recent article from Variety re Julia Ormond’s suing not just Weinstein for historical assault, but her CAA reps-who-let-her-walk-unprotected-into-the-jackal’s-den for collusion.
And while the comments section can succumb to some of the usual issues, I have found the commentariat can be not just illuminating and fun (OMITB!), but provide glimpses of community and support.
Imma going to try posting this a few times, because this site/being greyed/rejected is starting to annoy me. FWIW, consider scanning a site named after a large carrion-eating-bird for TV recaps. Huge library of all their previous recaps is a treasure trove. Some interesting to-fro in the comment section, too.
I skipped MM because it seemed like the weakest of his three shows on Netflix thus far. Like the two Haunting Houses shows, though, and this one sounds like it’s got every perfect element for spooki season.But in regards to this site reviewing individual episodes, don’t hold your breath. Your choices are to talk about it here at this initial post, or to find someone to talk to in real life about it, but we know which option you’ll go with.
Yeah I’d rank Haunting of Hill House at the top, Bly Manor a bit under, and then Midnight Mass much lower. (I didn’t watch Midnight Club.) I acknowledge this may be from me really wanting a scary show to watch, which Flanagan is under no obligation to do, but I found Midnight Mass too slow and meandering at times. Hill House had lots of monologues too but I think they found better ways of peppering them in ways that didn’t stop the momentum as much.Hey now, I have at least one friend who’ll talk about it with me! :’) But I’ll probably also try screaming into the void that is the comments section of a days-old post in an attempt to recapture some of that old TV Club magic.
He’s had four shows on Netflix now. I know many fans skipped The Midnight Club because of its older teen cast and YA source material (though as someone who devoured the ridiculous Christopher Pike books in the early 90s I appreciated how he dove right into how fucked up weird they were yet gave them all more heart) but I’d recommend it, honestly.
Actually so far Usher feels the closest to it in style and format (which is good and bad) but part of that is “taking inspiration from a different book/story each episode, and the jumps in tone. Another part of it is so many actors who were virtually unknown to me before Midnight Club seem to have joined his acting repertory team and popped here (maybe they were quickly hired when Netflix surprised him and didn’t order a second season of Club.) Anyway, they’re all good, so there’s no problem there. Midnight Club DOES have more sentiment and emotional stuff than Usher seems to have at all but the ratio of scares (usually of the jump scare style) is actually higher in Club than Usher, where judging by the first half they almost always exist at the end of each episode.
ANY
Funny, Midnight Mass is the only one I liked so far and it was really good. And I am not Christian.
Those of us who disliked Midnight Mass seem to be in the minority. It’s making me wonder if I should rewatch it because maybe I’d enjoy it more now that I know what to expect, but then I’m like eh, if I’m rewatching one of his series I’d go to Hill House first. There were some things I liked about Midnight Mass but it’s far from my favorite.
It’s fine to have different tastes, no problem if you did not like it.
The monologuing launched into full-on parody in Midnight Mass. Just bonkers levels of “No one can tell me to cut this.” And often the writing in these soliloquies gets a bit cutesy-poo…a good example is the line of dialogue singled out in this review! No one talks like this! I’m sure the actor involved will invest it with as much reality as they can, but man there are lots of moments in his stuff that take me out like this.But that said, when these things cook, they really really cook. So of course I’m going to watch.
Absolutely. I thought Midnight Mass started off really well but it really caused frustration for me in the final episodes—just one example, the entire town is literally going to shit and when asked to help the Sheriff decides instead to tell the person instead a 10 minute monologue about all the difficulties he’s gone through in life. I also thought it was poorly constructed—the two surviving characters (we assume) ARE built up in the first two episodes, but virtually not on screen again until the second half of the finale (one of them never even has a scene with his brother, the character who they were bait and switching as the show’s main character.)
But I’m also partly harsh on it because it seemed to get such blind praise (while Bly Manor got a lot of unfair criticism I think—partly because it was more a true Gothic rather than a Gothic Horror.) But honestly I’d rank it last of the four miniseries so far (haven’t finished Usher)—I had a much better time with The Midnight Club, which I know many of his fans just completely skipped due to the YA elements (and yet, if the cast had been 5 years older for the most part it wouldn’t be too different than Usher or his other series)
Monologues were the part of MM I loved the most, even though I’m not Christian. The part I liked the least was when the show turned into a vampire schlock for the majority of the last episode. Still, I think it’s my favorite of Flanagan’s Netflix miniseries. Fall of the House of Usher might be the second favorite. I would put The Haunting of Hill House at the second place if not for a shitload of poorly placed jumpscares.
10000000000% i cannot believe this is being rated below MM, which in my opinion, the pacing was MUCH better and it was vastly more interesting.
Was hoping more for “investigate a creepy house and see ghosts just in frame” kind of thing, but this could still be fun. And I’m sure Flanagan is pretty sick of that side of things anyway.Also, sex! Heck yeah. Let’s go.
I’m assuming it has some of that. Also the house better fall apart at the end or I’ll be mad
I think you’re misreading the context of the title. The series takes place in mid-October.
It actually does have more “ghosts you don’t immediately notice just hovering there” than any of his shows since Hill House I think (well… Midnight Club had a fair amount of that too, but…)
NICE. Let’s go.
A creepy house is there. Creepy nooks and crannies also present. ghostly apparitions, well, they are there too… The most presence since the first Haunting. The most sensual and goriest from Flanagan to date, that for sure.
I’ve always found that this kind of story, where one or more horrible people suffer a slow, painful comeuppance, is just about impossible to really screw up. No matter how objectively terrible the storytelling is, that base satisfaction level will always be there. It’s the same reason I loved Saw X so much, and I have no doubt this will be there too.
Question: did acknowledging Siegels matrimonial connection to Flannagan actual add something to the piece? If not, why mention it?
It’s very early in the article so probably not worth my holding onto it, but… well, I am who I am and I’m triggered by what I’m triggered by.FFS, please let’s everyone who talks about horror STOP IT with the idea that every f’ing element of every f’ing horror story is some f’ing metaphor. It just f’ing isn’t. Often it is! And that’s totally fine! But often it isn’t, and that’s JUST AS FINE. A cigar is sometimes just a goddam cigar. Furthermore, there is a tendency in *some* discussions of film, particularly genre film, that narratives *without* some degree of metaphor are in some way inferior or narratives with a lot of metaphor are in some way superior. That’s f’ing nonsense and also needs to stop.Stories are and should be stories. Anything beyond the basics of narrative are enhancements ONLY. They are not substantive. I might prefer stories with more thematic or symbolic resonance but that resonance is not required and “preferred” is not “better”.
This reminds me of a commenter on this site telling me years ago that all blood in horror movies represents semen, and then giving me haughty defense when I said that was stupid. I get that there’s usually a sexual aspect to horror and most are made by men, but really, all of them? This universal life force is actually always a metaphor for cum? Dracula wants to suck jizz out of everyone?My guy, if you’re still here and reading this, I still think you’re silly.
Ah, from the same school as “All skyscrapers are just penises”. Yeah. Or really efficient uses of small plots of land. Y’know.
Horror is literally all metaphor, it follows the trends of what people are most worried about in that time period. You don’t have to think about it if you don’t want to, but getting annoyed at people acknowledging the metaphor is stupid.
it follows the trends of what people are most worried about in that time periodThat’s…not what a metaphor is.
No, it isn’t. If you want to sit here and have an academic breakdown of the history of horror and how cultural concerns influence subject matter and stylistic choices you’re absolutely welcome. It’s territory I’ve gone over many times before in pursuit of a terminal degree. Which I now have. So I’m no stranger to your bullshit. But it IS bullshit. Just because cultural concerns INFLUENCE horror narratives and just because SOME horror narratives ARE metaphorical does not mean that EVERY element of a horror story is a fucking metaphor. It’s fucking insipid pseudointellectual twaddle to say that shit and it drives me up the goddam wall. Oh, were the slasher films of the 1970s born out of post-Vietnam paranoia about vets with PTSD? Were the kaiju films from the 50s about post-atomic Japan’s fears of radiation poisoning? Please do tell me more, professor! But bear in mind that Jason Voorhees is also a mutated child in a hockey mask. The giant ants of Them are also giant fucking ants. And the idea that it’s not ENOUGH for any of that to just be what it is, that it HAS to be a metaphor or it’s not worth watching or doing its job, is utter nonsense. And THAT is what I find annoying. I’d love to read an analysis of a horror narrative that didn’t feel the need to launch into statements about what element X is a fucking “stand in” for. And this review STARTS with that shit. It’s not even like Cote starts off talking about the straight-up merits of the story AS A FUCKING STORY. No, he’s gotta start out with the metaphor shit.“you don’t have to think about it”. Cool! Except I do think about it, because I’m not stupid despite that last dig you make. What I would like is if the metaphor stuff wasn’t considered IMPORTANT the way that this review CLEARLY thinks it is.
Did you get your degree from Reddit University? A doctorate in obnoxious screeds perhaps? No one has ever said that there has to be a metaphor or it’s not worth watching, but also where the hell are you going to find an analysis of any movie where there’s not a look at the symbolism? I think you’re thinking of a synopsis. Jason isn’t just a mutated child, he’s a manifestation of injustice. The ants in Them are literally irradiated by the nuclear bomb. Neither of your examples even require digging deep or advanced mental gymnastics to understand. Sure, not every element is metaphor, but that wasn’t what this article claimed. The horror itself is always a metaphor, and in the few examples where you could realistically claim there’s no metaphor you end up with an extremely underwhelming or hack horror that fails because it doesn’t interface with real fears of the viewer.
Jason’s metaphorical status is not important to a critical appreciation or personal enjoyment of the characterization. And THAT is what rubs me wrong. That all too often a critical analysis of a narrative privileges the metaphorical or thematic elements over the craft elements. And I even stated that I wouldn’t have been so annoyed by it in this review if the damn thing hadn’t STARTED on that note.I think you’re misunderstanding my aggravation. Or in the desire for maintaining an argument you’re failing to see how obvious I am in declaring a *personal bugaboo*. Inasmuch as anyone getting mad about an opinion piece is stupid, OF COURSE I’m being stupid. OF COURSE it’s ridiculous for me to get upset at a review of a limited run TV series. On the other hand, what I’m getting mad about has some basis in, I think, a reasonable argument. Which is that there’s a tendency in reviews, particularly of genre material, to emphasize metaphor and theme over craft. I find that tiresome. I’ve never been a fan of symbolism safaris, even when the critic/analyst rightly points out the actual symbolism. Who fucking CARES about the fact that Movie Monster X is a stand-in for Social Concern Y? Is Movie Monster X interesting as a character? Is it effective in creating tension? Is it sufficiently threatening to the protagonist? Like cool, great, the monster is a metaphor for a mother’s grief over a dead child, woo, fucking whatever. Genuinely that’s great IF the monster works in the context of *the actual goddam story*.
I’d like to point out that when you post your personal bugaboo publicly, you open it up to response and analysis as well, could be something to consider in the future. I’ve definitely deleted a few ranting paragraphs just because I don’t actually care what other people think about it. Hell I just did it in this comment. I see where you’re coming from to an extent, but you came in real hot in comparison to the mild start to this article.
Oh for sure! I am nothing if not prone to hyperbole. It’s tough as I know this about myself and I do often either rein it in or delete. But sometimes I don’t, particularly when I feel very justified in the basic sentiment if not the way I’m delivering it. It’s a flaw, I know it is. I could and should be way more relaxed on these topics, if only because hyperbolic ranting can come off as uneducated/ignorant. On the other hand, if I was more controlled in my delivery it could appear passionless and overly academic/pedantic. I don’t like the idea of arguing for the sake of doing it and I don’t like overtly elitist posting, even if my approach is sometimes elitist.Look, you’re being very reasonable and I was being very AGGRO!!!! It’s nothing personal to you, it just happens to be the artistic topic that most fires me up. Starting off the review with such a big ol’ button was bound to get me foaming at the mouth and falling over backwards.
A bit late, but I just started watching this show, saw your comment, and couldn’t help jump in because, well, I’ve studied this stuff for over a decade so I love talking about it. If you’d rather not discuss it further, just dismiss me, no harm, no foul. The thing that strikes me in your comments is this dichotomy you create between analyzing the metaphors/themes (I’ll use theme from now on, it’s shorter) and analyzing the craft. I think this dichotomy is false. To review metaphors is to review the craft, because theme is part of the craft. So when you say this: “Who fucking CARES about the fact that Movie Monster X is a stand-in for Social Concern Y? Is Movie Monster X interesting as a character? Is it effective in creating tension? Is it sufficiently threatening to the protagonist? Like cool, great, the monster is a metaphor for a mother’s grief over a dead child, woo, fucking whatever. Genuinely that’s great IF the monster works in the context of *the actual goddam story*.”I don’t really understand the anger because for me all these are interlinked, not opposites. To review one is to review all of them. If the monster doesn’t work in the story, then it’s not be a good metaphor. By contrast, if you have a clear, well-explained theme, that theme will be create and amplify the characterization and tension.And I agree with the other poster that when someone say “all horror is a metaphor”, they don’t mean that every prop, every character, every plot point is a stand-in for something else. But rather, horror is all about fears, and as such, every horror movie is about expressing one of more fear shared by the audience. Often, the fears being expressed are both literal and metaphorical: Jason can be said to represent the fear of being killed in the woods by a big scary masked man carrying a machete, and also the fear of transgression, punishment, sexual proclivity, and deformity. Crucially though, the audience need to vibe with both literal and metaphorical fears for the movie to work. As for the guy who swore that all blood was sperm – sounds like an undergrad who just got his mind blown by his first film studies class, and hasn’t yet gained the wisdom called nuance. All scholars go through that phase.
I separate them because they are separate. You can tell a strong story with no thematic resonance whatsoever. A story doesn’t have to “mean” anything to be effective and entertaining. I would argue that you’re wrong about an audience needing to vibe with both literal and metaphorical fears for a movie to work and I would offer as proof the vastness of horror movie fandom, which contains academics with a hard-on for semiotics AND shallow thinkers who just appreciate a fun kill. As an academic myself I’m all too aware of the tendency in my fellow academic to prioritize the elements of a narrative that appeal to analysis. But basic craft is just as valuable. Moreso, I would argue, if only because we academics can be so easily distracted by the shiny object of fucking “meaning”. Jason has to be an effective threat. That’s all he HAS to be. The Thing has to be an effective threat. Candyman has to be an effective threat. The fact that any of those three are also effective at pushing theme is a positive *but unnecessary* quality of their characterizations.What makes me mad is the elitist bullshit of privileging thematic or metaphorical depth when critiquing narrative material. Again, it’s the first fucking thing the review talks about. And this privileging of theme and metaphor happens *all the goddam time* among high-minded critical analysis. It’s almost like a movie can’t be good for some critics if it’s only surface-level good. And I fucking HATE that. Because it is very hard to be JUST surface-level good. And because it is soooo easy to trick asshole academics into talking about a narrative in positive terms if you just jiggle those keys of theme and metaphor at them.And look, to be fair it is harder for an artist to be good at the surface-level craft of writing without investing some measure of metaphor and/or theme. We’re human, we have thoughts and feelings about the world at large. But that’s also why I tell my screenwriting students to avoid generating story premises from a place of theme and metaphor. Because we ARE human and we naturally invest our stories with our beliefs. You don’t have to force it. I’ve seen far too much bad writing come from a well-intentioned writer who has Something Important to Say and forces the story to bend around the thematic resonance.
“You can tell a strong story with no thematic resonance whatsoever.”Can you? Like, I’m trying to think about the movies I love that I think are really shallow: The Mummy (1999) or the Legendary Monsterverse, and even those have some basic themes: The Mummy is all about recapturing a mythic past, both Ancient Egypt and the pre-WWII colonial time. The Monsterverse is all about Nature and humanity’s powerlessness in the face of it. Those themes are basics, and not really explored very much, but they are still there. They still provide a canvas for the movie’s craft to build on. Do you have an example of a movie you think is a good story that really has zero thematic resonance whatsoever? No symbolism, no metaphor, no similes, nothing?I also, I’ll be honest, I don’t understand what you mean by “the monster needs to be an effective threat”. Or more precisely, I don’t get how you can create an effective threat with a monster that represents no fear and has no thematic layers. Again, I’d love an example. Like, I don’t deny that people, myself included, watch horror movies because they are fun and have fun kills. What I’m saying is that theme is part of what makes a kill fun or a monster threatening. It’s not a shiny object that distract you from bad craft, it’s the plaster on which you paint the narrative. If your plaster is brittle or bumpy it doesn’t matter how well you paint your wall, it will not look good. But even if your plaster is perfectly smooth, if you are a shit painter, your wall will still be an ugly mess. Now, can people sometime be blinded by flashy themes and metaphor? Sure! The Joker is my go-to example. A movie that is super shallow and doesn’y say anything, but because it mimics depth and play on anti-pop culture bias, a certain kind pf film buff lapped it up. But tbaht doesn’t make theme an enemy of craft.
Are those themes actually there or is that a sort of post hoc argument? If they are basic and not fully explored, are they significant enough to count? I think it’s sort of absurd to claim that those themes create a background canvas for those stories to be told. It’s more likely that those storytellers invested in their stories thematic elements out of their belief systems. I don’t think you’re wrong about those themes existing but I also don’t think it matters if they do. Do you watch The Mummy and enjoy it because it says something about the danger of nostalgia?Again, I think it’s very difficult for someone who is talented at basic narrative craft to NOT invest effort in creating theme and metaphor. It will happen naturally.And come on with that “theme is part of what makes a kill fun or a monster threatening”. No it isn’t. Bruce is not a scary shark in Jaws because he represents the mindless voraciousness of nature or whatever. He’s a giant fuck-off shark with great big pointy teeth! For the sake of the argument I went along with the prior post about Jason standing in as a fucking “manifestation of injustice”. But that’s bullshit. Jason isn’t scary because he represents restorative justice for neglected children. He’s a huge unkillable mutant who stabs and hacks with a machete or stabs with a pitchfork or whatever. I’m not going to argue about what he represents or whether he represents something because sure, he does. BUT IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER. Jason is a great horror villain because he’s an effective antagonist. The protagonist wants to survive. They are generally a Cliche Female Human Teenager with all the baggage that implies. Jason is faster than her. He’s able to effectively stalk her. Usually there’s some reason that she – you know what, I assume you’re a clever enough person, I don’t have to explain Final Girl shit to you. But do you get my point? Who fucking CARES if Jason is a representation of patriarchal sexual oppression or what-the-fuck-ever? That’s great! Fine! But is he an effective horror movie villain?Turn the talking point around for a minute. If movie monsters are effective because of what they represent, and everyone can agree that the atomic bombing of Japan is a universally horrific act, why is EVERY Japanese kaiju movie from the 1950s not as good as Godzilla? If any horror movie featuring a pregnant woman is about how humans fear for the safety of unborn babies, why isn’t every horror movie featuring a pregnant woman as good as Rosemary’s Baby? The reason is because of the storytelling craft. The metaphor, the theme, it doesn’t fucking *matter*. The craft matters.And just to reiterate, I LIKE metaphor and theme. But I don’t think they should be privileged in critical analysis the way they so often are. And this specific review starts with that critique and leans into it throughout. This is what I hate about Haneke and Funny Games. Funny Games is, by Haneke’s own admission, a statement directed at horror movie fans who don’t think about their complicity in the terrible things happening on screen. It is a shallow finger-wagging polemic from a man who totally underestimates and misunderstands the people he would seek to chastise. In trying to make some ridiculous moralistic point he created a movie that is JUST AS SHALLOW as the movies he seeks to critique. But because that shallowness is connected to a ham-fisted theme, high-minded assholes lose their shit over it.Now that’s a lot of text. And none of it directly answers your question. I can’t think of a single movie that has no thematic resonance, no matter how shallow. So chalk that one up to my hyperbole. I’m going to further credit you for not being so silly as to pretend that somehow means everything I said is wrong.
I feel like we are very close to saying more or less the same thing, but you seem to be too married to your anger to fully hear me. And as such I’m not sure what is your real position, and what is just you venting because you are angry. Which hey, no worries, this is an internet comment section, who care. But let me show you what I mean, take these “I think it’s very difficult for someone who is talented at basic narrative craft to NOT invest effort in creating theme and metaphor. It will happen naturally.”“The reason is because of the storytelling craft. The metaphor, the theme, it doesn’t fucking *matter*. The craft matters.”“I can’t think of a single movie that has no thematic resonance, no matter how shallow.”From where I sit, the middle quote is contradicted by the other two. My point this whole time has been that theme and metaphors are part of craft, and that a well-crafted (horror) movie is one were both the literal plot mechanics and the thematic underpinning are well made and work together. Which you concede in the first quote. But then in the second quote you say theme doesn’t matter at all, just the craft. Which I disagree. You can’t get Godzilla or Rosemary’s Baby without their theme. Yes, theme is not enough, but I never said it was. In fact, I very much stressed multiple time that you need both theme AND everything else that make up craft. Craft without Theme sucks as much as Theme without Craft.Your point was that Craft is all you need, Theme is unnecessary, optional. But when I asked you to name a movie you like that is all craft but no theme, you admitted you can’t (third quote). So that means theme does matter, then? And like I admitted to earlier, yes there are people who will latch unto the appearance of depth to elevate movies that in my opinion aren’t very deep. But that’s just how opinions and tastes work. And yes, maybe some people overvalue theme over the craft, or vice-versa, but again, that feels more like an inevitability of subjective opinion. Some people are elitist a-holes. So yeah, I just can’t agree to this theme vs craft conflict you seem very invested in. I don’t even think this article is overvalueing theme to the extend you say it does. I quote: “That’s why writer-director Mike Flanagan is so refreshing: He honors the supernatural imperatives of ghost stories or vampire tales, but ensures they happen to people we care about, heroes capable of getting sober or overcoming generational trauma.”Frankly, this reads to me as praising Flanagan for his ability to make effective threats and narrative (craft) while also giving depth to his characters and his story (theme). What does it reads like to you? I’m genuinely curious. Are their movies that are terribly made but I nonetheless like because of what their thematic/metaphorical charge? Absolutely. Robocop 3 comes to mind. Are there movies that are well made that I dislike because their theme is a muddled mess? Absolutely as well. Kingsman: The Golden Circle is my go-to examples. But in general, the movies I love the most are both well-made and have great themes I find fascinating: Alien, Jurassic Park, Poltergeist, etc.
It never achieves the narrative momentum or emotional resonance of Flanagan’s finest: the extraordinary Midnight Mass . . .This publication gave Midnight Mass a C+. I personally loved it, and I understand that Cote wasn’t the reviewer on that one, but still an amusing, if a bit jarring, comparison.
No one needs that. There is only ONE movie about that topic and we all know which one that is.
Is it another two-hour story that takes eight hours to tell?
What I’m getting is someone not only saw, but remembered, Dickensian.
Ha I loved Dickensian. But that was more like UK soap Eastenders with Dickens characters. This sticks to Poe’s themes heavily, and a *few* of his plot elements (fewer than I expected) but it’s not like the actual Poe characters are there.
Been eagerly awaiting this one for a while, particularly to see if the lack of sympathetic characters will make or break my interest. And even if the miniseries doesn’t succeed by the final episode, it can’t be any worse than AHS, though that’s a substantially low bar.
I am one who usually does not go for stuff when there are few sympathetic characters (the characters are a big reason why I’ve loved past Flanagan series). I really did like this one. I didn’t love it, but I still think it was quite good. (Also noting that a big part of my enjoyment was how it played with Poe stories. I’ve been a fan of those since a teenager.)
Just finished the series and I liked it as well. It can get campy at times but it doesn’t overwhelm the plot, the characters, or the morose, gloomy atmosphere.
While I did read a few of Poe’s poems and short stories back in high school, I also dove into his literature, the recommended oeuvre from Flanagan, over the summer in preparation for the show.
If this series is like Flanagan’s others, it should probably be four or maybe five episodes. They start strong, then meander into a flabby, repetitive middle where he struggles to fill the time with anything substantial. He tends to stick the landing, though.
I actually thought this was strong until the ending—a LOT of talky/borderline sentimental speeches (which I feel has been true of his other series.) But I thought it mostly earned that so can’t complain—but the middle was actually my favourite stuff. The problem with the format is you know that by the end most of the more entertaining characters will be… gone.
I thought the ending was alright. Pretty much what you’d expect from the story and Flanagan. Maybe after Hill House’s ending, putting a nice bow on it doesn’t feel as weird. [SPOILERS of course] I thought the Carla Gugino’s speech to Lenore was sweet and well done. I’m not sure if Madeline popping out of the basement was supposed to be campy or scary—it made me laugh. I did find Auggie’s closing monologue too corny, but overall the series tone was kind of over the top so it didn’t bug me too much.Agreed though that the middle section was the best, and being disappointed that the more interesting characters got killed off first (not including Prospero, I was glad we could be rid of him). Victorine’s episode was my favorite and the one with the best horror imo. Which made Tamerlane’s episode right after feel especially week, on top of being the episode about the character with the least interesting story. No shade to the actress, that one just felt the most underdeveloped.
Agreed that Tamerlane’s episode was the one with the least interesting demise. Also the second-least interesting offspring (after Prospero) in general. Also seemingly the one with the biggest stretch of a Poe connection.
Others may disagree, but I do think that this series is fairly strong throughout. I like Hill House and Bly Manor more, but it’s probably qualitatively better than Bly. It also sticks its landing better than Hill. (I will refrain from going into the details why out of respect for spoilers.)
One episode in and “oh look, it’s The Fall of the House of Sackler”. Because that story has definitely been under-served by television miniseries in the last year.Still, the main character is called Roderick, so I feel vindicated. If one of those Starbucks cups reads “Roger” or “Roddick”, I’ll really feel seen.