Wayward Pines

I'm of two minds about Wayward Pines. This is kind of surprising, since I'm usually pretty decisive.

I can typically tell in the first few episodes or even minutes if I am going to like a show. But Wayward Pines is proving a difficult nut to crack. Not to say that the plot is particularly complicated, but when the best way to describe a show is "Twin Peaks meets LOST," you can pretty much guarantee there is going to be some wacky stuff going on. 

Here's the official description from FOX (cue press release voice):

Based on the best-selling novel, “Pines,” by Blake Crouch, and brought to life by suspenseful storyteller M. Night Shyamalan, WAYWARD PINES is an intense, mind-bending new thriller in which nothing is what it seems. Secret Service agent ETHAN BURKE (Academy Award nominee Matt Dillon, “Crash,” “City of Ghosts”) arrives in the bucolic town of Wayward Pines, ID, on a mission to find two missing federal agents. But instead of answers, Ethan’s investigation only turns up more questions. Each step closer to the truth takes Ethan further from the life he knew, from the husband and father he was, until he must face the terrifying reality that he may never get out of Wayward Pines alive.

That's not really super specific, so here's my short version of the plot. Matt Dillon is in a car crash while investigating the disappearance of two fellow Secret Service agents. He wakes up in a hospital in Wayward Pines, Idaho, where everything is super creepy. There are hardly any phones that work, he can't find his wallet or any possessions, and everyone seems to be part of some vast conspiracy. Mostly a conspiracy against allowing him to leave. And it turns out one the agents he has been searching for (and had previously had an affair with) has been living in Wayward Pines for years...even though she just went missing a short time ago.

Wayward Pines has the "Federal agent finds himself in a super strange small town filled with crazy people where supernatural things happen" vibe of Twin Peaks combined with the "seemingly normal people find themselves trapped in a super strange place that doesn't seem to follow the laws of physics and is part of a must deeper mystery" aspects of LOST. 

Normally this kind of thing would seem like a slam dunk, but Wayward Pines meanders just enough that I'm not sure it will sustain the intrigue of the pilot. A plot twist at the end of the second episode is enough to keep me watching for now, but if episode three doesn't step up I might consider dropping it. But let's be honest--there's not a heck of a lot on TV this summer and my OCD will probably kick in so that I feel obligated to finish the season.  

It certainly looks good though; everything about the show, sets, and characters works and is just slightly weird enough to be off-putting. And the performances are downright great. Props to Terrence Howard for playing the local Sheriff with just the right amount of ambiguity that I am super interested in finding out his part in the overall conspiracy. I was also really excited to see Carla Gugino in the cast as the missing-now-found Secret Service agent. 

In sum, Wayward Pines has a great creepy feel that hints at a much larger mystery, but it's going to have to work to keep up the momentum established in the pilot. If you're looking for something to watch this summer, you could do a lot worse. 

Wayward Pines airs on FOX Thursdays at 9:00 PM EST. You can catch up with the first two episodes on FOX's website or on Hulu.

American Horror Story: Freak Show

Fellow TV sluts, I know what you're going to say. "Maggie Cats," you wonder. "Why didn't you guys recap or even discuss the most recent season of AHS?" 

My failure is of a personal nature, I didn't actually get a chance to watch the Freak Show season until just recently. "But wait a minute. Didn't Clovis handle all the AHS-related stuff?" Well, yes, he did. But the reason why he didn't write any recaps for this past season is very simple. And it comes down to one very simple fact.

Clovis is terrified of clowns. 

I KNOW! Who would have thought? The blog's obligatory shot of testosterone, the only male writer on staff, afraid of clowns. Not that it's an uncommon fear. Lots of people don't like clowns. And who can blame them. 

Coulrophobia: Fear of Clowns.

But this means that AHS: Freak Show passed by our blog mostly without comment. And that's a damn shame because this was the strongest season of the show. 

While seasons past clearly relied on the "let's throw every plot device we can think of at the wall and see what sticks" method of writing, Freak Show felt like an actual story that was cohesive with a clear idea of where it was headed. While (for me) it lacked the simple scariness of the first season and the what-the-fuckery of season two, there's no denying Freak Show held together better than it's predecessors and still had its fair share of terrifying and cracktastic moments.

One of the strengths of the show has always been its cast, and with Freak Show, it seems Ryan Murphy finally hit upon the perfect combination. The ladies have always been the real stars of AHS and in Freak Show, Jessica Lange, Sarah Paulson, Kathy Bates, Angela Basset, and even Emma Roberts, chew the scenery and act the shit out everything they are given. But they also never let you lose sight of the humanity behind the curtain. One of the subplots I loved was how the women won and lost power both on stage and off. 

And if you can have Kathy Bates running around with a beard and Angela Basset with three breasts while making a point about feminism then YOU GO, GIRLS. 

And of course, because it's AHS, this season was chock full of blood, gore, horror, and the blackest of humor. The motivations of each character were as typically changeable as the wind and there were no real good guys. But that's part of the point really--and while the "the real freaks are the people outside the tent" theme is a little obvious, when the show is this most fun (and terrifying) to watch, who really cares. Murphy delivered on the promise of an American horror story. As Clovis would say, "it does exactly what it says on the tin."

Oh, and of course, there were truly scary clowns. 

I genuinely cannot decide which is scarier: Twisty the Clown or Pennywise from IT. Anybody want to weight in?

Finally, what do we do know about AHS Season 5? According to the AV Club, it will focus on a hotel and will feature Lady Gaga. 

SOLD. 

Nighty night, kids. Don't let the bed bugs bite.

Constantine is the American Doctor Who

I know, I know.   A bold statement.  Especially given the number of other shows that could equally make the case that they are, in fact, as close as those of us in “The Colonies” will ever get to our own mad cap Gallifreyan adventurer (The Middleman certainly had a strong case to make).  But here’s the thing: all the main Doctor Who tropes are present in the new NBC show.  Wise but possibly ambivalent hero fighting dark enemies?  Check.   Companion who is mostly a rube but potentially possessing a vital power or skill that the hero will need?  Yup.  It’s-Bigger-On-The-Inside base of operations?  But of course.

All of which is not to suggest that Constantine is just some rip off.  If anything, having watched the first six episodes, I would argue that the show is trying to establish itself as something wholly independent of the rest of the comic book properties out there.  The mad Englishman with a special larger-than-it-seems home base and a crazy encyclopedic knowledge of terrifying things coupled with a potentially troublesome disregard for the people around him may echo our favorite fantasy adventurer, but this is a TARDIS of a different shape.

A flame-ier, angrier TARDIS...

The Comic Book

Wait, what?  “Clovis,” I hear you say, “Is this yet another comic book TV show that you can’t seem to stay away from?”  Of course it is.  Constantine is based on the DC Comics book Hellblazer about John Constantine, a 35-year-old con man, supernatural detective, and “petty dabbler of the dark arts” based in London.  But in order to understand this character and where he fits in with all those flying cape-wearers who are always saving the planet from alien invasions or some such, I’m going to have to take you through a couple of very brief points of fact about the DC Universe.

As always, those wishing to avoid the nerdy comic book talk can skip ahead.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back and hear just about the TV show.

The thing about DC Comics that separates it from the other big comic book company, Marvel, is that DC has for years made a big show about all its characters existing in a multiverse.  (Marvel has a multiverse of its own, but a much more consistent effort is put into place with their books to streamline the characters and give them a common space to exist in.)  This is the narrative device that allows DC Comics to keep cannon a lot of completely out of date stories.  It’s what explains, for example, how it is that Wonder Woman can exist in our modern age and yet still have fought Nazis during World War II. The Nazi-fighting version was a different reality Wonder Woman from a different dimension in the multiverse.  Comics, everybody!

I could keep explaining, but it's just going to make you want to do a lot of this. 

In 1993, DC Comics created Vertigo, a specialty imprint that would produce comics that were more adult; more like literature than the flashy superhero adventures the company was primarily known for. Vertigo was the home to Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series, Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing and V for Vendetta, among lots of other riskier and, frankly, weirder stories.  Hellblazer was born into this world and while John Constantine would sometimes still find ways to interact with the occasional Superman or Batman, he mostly occupied a different reality in the multiverse.

Constantine as a character was known for being rough around the edges, unrelentingly cynical, and deadpan but also remarkably cunning and capable of getting out of the toughest scrapes, a key skill when the majority of your enemies are demons great and small, including the biggest baddie of them all, The First of the Fallen.  (Read: The Devil.  Sorta.)   Writers at various times have portrayed him as the ultimate pragmatist, willing to take anyone down if the ends justified the means, but also as someone who is essentially motivated by a desire to be a good person and make the world a better place.  Of course, the world isn’t often saved by people who are being nice guys.  You can’t make an omelet, etc. etc.

This actually qualifies as a light-hearted moment for most of Constantine's life. 

The TV Show

Okay comic-phobes, you can come back!  The good news for traditionalist is that the TV series did a phenomenal job casting John Constantine.  Seriously, you guys.  Matt Ryan looks exactly like how his character is supposed to.  I know that may seem like a small thing, but in this age of whitewashing and making changes because somehow the source material isn’t “relatable”, seeing Matt Ryan in his Constantine trench coat and loosened tie for the first time made a lot of folk feel like this show was on target.  

Seriously, you guys.  Nerd-squee. 

And then there was Liv…

The first episode serves up similar story notes from the comic books.  Constantine has voluntarily confined himself to an English psychiatric hospital after botching an exorcism that resulted in a young girl, Astra, being dragged into Hell. His rest cure fails to work, however, when a cadre of supernatural forces warn John that Liv Aberdine, an American woman who is also the daughter of one of John’s old magic partners, is in danger.  John manages to exorcise the demon that is chasing down Liv, but the experience is too much for her and she flees his company after providing him a scrying map showing John other locations throughout the country where something evil is afoot. 

And therein was the first problem for the new series.  Simply put, Liv shouldn’t have.  The part didn’t mesh with the story; there wasn’t a lot of there there and the actress was replaced with a new character, Zed who shares some of Liv’s psychic abilities but is a bit more world-weary.  Fans worried that the abrupt change in lead casting was a bad portent for the show.  Personally, I think John and Zed make a better pairing precisely because Zed has her share of secrets she’s keeping from John.  Plus it underlines a very major point in the comics: John isn’t a good person to be around.  He’s trouble and he’s not afraid to put you in between himself and it.  John acknowledges this to his only other compatriot, Chas, a man who is loyal to John but has the mysterious ability to survive being killed making him one of the only people who can probably stand to be around John for long.  Add to that the host of angels who are rapidly losing patience with John and not so squeamish about maybe handing him over to the demons who would love to have his head and Constantine's got a lot of motivation for screwing over otherwise fine people. 

Pictured (l to r): Angel, Hero Jerk Face, Woman of Mystery, Undead Cab Driver (really). 

Aside from the casting drama, there’s a lot to find in Constantine for folks looking for some light horror.  Storylines are taken from the comics, so fans will find plenty to wink at. (See below for more on that.)  At the same time, the show manages to keep exactly the right tone in relation to the demons and ghosts that make their way into Constantine’s life.  He’s not afraid of them, exactly; but he does take them seriously.  His deadpan humor is fully imported from the comics, but Matt Ryan gives his lines a gravity that shows just how unsure of himself Constantine is in the wake of that failed exorcism.  Most importantly, the show has been very careful about keeping the sanctity (pun not intended) of their main character in tact: John’s defining character trait in the comics is that he smokes.  This is a problem for network TV where characters aren’t allowed to smoke given network standards and practices.  As such, we’re given just enough subtle clues to suggest that John has just put out a cigarette that observers will understand how much this is a part of his character.  Likewise, the punk-rock sensibility from the comics is still on display.  In a scene where John must fight a demon without listening to its voice, he blasts The Clash on his iPod to drown out the sounds.

As a side note, between this and their other horror show, the incredible Hannibal, NBC seems to be interested in carving out a horror niche that I’m very much in favor of.  Both shows take significant risks for network television and it’s exciting to see these stories being played out.  Unless you’re Maggie Cats, after all, you can only watch so much Law & Order before you need something else on TV.

The Easter Eggs

As with Gotham and The Flash, DC Entertainment has again dropped a number of Easter Eggs for fans.  Many of them are more overt than other DC shows; John openly talks about Mucus Membrane, his former punk band.  In the pilot, Liv picks up a golden helmet before John warns her to put it back down, saying more than likely it will wear her before she could wear it.  The helmet is an exact copy of that worn by the character Dr. Fate.  In episode five, John and Zed work with New Orleans cop Jim Corrigan.  Near the end of the episode, Zed has a disturbing vision of Corrigan dead and bleeding but with a green light emanating from him.  Savvy viewers will know that Corrigan will eventually die and become The Spectre, a character who is the spirit of vengeance.

Other references are far more subtle.  In John’s Bigger-On-The-Inside base camp filled with magical items, you can see Pandora’s Box in one glass case.  Not far from it, there’s backwards writing on a chalkboard, a clear reference to the comic book character Zatanna who recites phrases backwards in order to cast magic spells.  One of John’s former associates now works at Ivy University, a school often referenced in DC Comics and home to several other superheroes.  A close-up shot of Constantine’s business card gives an Atlanta-area phone number.  Call that number and you’ll get a recording of Matt Ryan as Constantine referencing someone named Alec Holland. 

The Bottom Line

You know what I’m going to say here – watch this damn show.  Yes, that’s because it’s a comic book character and I’m firmly in the camp of believing that if comic book properties continue to be successful, they’ll stop becoming a special niche and will instead become a genre.  We’ve made great strides on this so far – Constantine stands on its own as a horror show; Gotham is doing a capable job as a police procedural; Agents of SHIELD, despite the slow start, has been doing reasonably well as a spy drama; the success of the Marvel cinematic universe all together has show that comic book characters don’t just have to be caped adventure stories with one-note plots.  Progress is being made.

As of now, Constantine is slated to run for 13 episodes in its first season.  It hasn’t been called up for more episodes or for a second season, though NBC and DC have both indicated that doesn’t mean the show will be cancelled.  For my money, the risks taken on bringing a show like this to television alone are worthy of supporting it, but I honestly think new viewers will be intrigued by the complexity of the characters and the gradual deepening of the storylines. 

Also, repeat after me: the movie never happened.  The movie. NEVER. HAPPENED.

Oh go be sad about it in a park, Keanu. 

Bloated. Just Like Pregnancy!

It’s a familiar story.  Once upon a time, a young princess met a handsome price, got married, and moved into a fantasy castle.  Life was wonderful for the princess, but the handsome prince wanted more, so he arranged for his wife to be clandestinely raped by the devil in order to produce the antichrist.  I’ll grant you, this fairy tale may not have the same familiarity of a Cinderella or a Snow White, but after watching NBC’s remake of the 1968 horror movie Rosemary’s Baby, you’d be forgiven for wondering exactly how many of the tropes are continued from one story’s iteration to another, just like a fairy tale. 

This time around, Rosemary’s Baby is a miniseries starring Zoe Saldana in the title role made famous by Mia Farrow.  The miniseries expands significantly on the original film and Ira Levin’s original novel in an attempt to ratchet up the dread and paranoia that Rosemary feels over the course of her pregnancy.  Unfortunately, like an expectant mother well into her third trimester, the end result is a kind of bloating that makes the entire experience uncomfortable, rather than beautiful.

Demon baby.  Svelte pregnancy figure sold separately. 

The plot is familiar to anyone who remembers the movie or the book: Saldana plays Rosemary, a young woman who moves with her struggling creative husband from her familiar environment into a band new city.  (Originally New York, in this version Paris.  More on that in second.)  Elevated to living in a grand apartment far outside their normal standard of living by an eerily kind and giving older couple that establish themselves as mentors, confidantes, and sort of keepers of the young couple, Rosemary soon finds herself pregnant with the child she’s always wanted.  As her pregnancy progresses, Rosemary begins to sense that something is wrong and that her neighbors are far too invested in her unborn child.  Eventually coming to believe that the building’s residents are actually cultists who are planning to use her child as a sacrifice to the Devil, Rosemary falls into a web of paranoia and suspicion as everyone seems to be against her.  Or are they?  (Spoiler alert: they are.)

This is all a fairly simple story, which makes the decision to stretch that story into double its original length a confusing one. It’s frankly the hallmark of this version of the story: it’s at turns bad and good, boring and thrilling, atmospheric and dull.  Several changes were made, some for better and others for worse.  Fair warning: from here on out there may be spoilers.  I hesitate to say that, since I think the statute of limitations on a story that was filmed in the 1960s has passed, but just in case you’re not the classic horror movie kind and want to keep yourself pure for your eventual Halloween movie marathon, you’ve been warned.

Stop acting shocked, Mia. The movie is 46 years old.  This isn't a Game of Thrones post. 

Whereas the original film depicted Rosemary conceiving her child fairly early on, that event doesn’t happen here until the end of the first episode of the two-part series, effectively almost two hours into the action.  That split generates a bloated first half that attempts to establish the creepiness and dread that the second half will need to capitalize on, but more frequently feels boring and resorts to mini storylines that are added and dropped in order to keep the viewers waiting for the conception scene.  Zoe Saldana does an admirable job carrying the first boring half, but there’s only so many times she can have a sickly sweet conversation with her new benefactors, Margaux and Roman Castevet, as they pour her another special herbal shake that they insist will help her get pregnant before the audience is like, “they’re clearly evil – get a new apartment.”   The conception scene comes as a relief, mostly because so much has been built up about the Castavets that we no longer have any doubt that they’re Satanists and just want to get to the demon lovemaking already.  Thankfully, the second half proves to be a fairly tense and nerve-wracking 90 plus minutes, once Rosemary is actually pregnant and we can return to the original plot.

In that same vein, Roman Castevet’s characterization is given far too much weight.  Despite the fact that he’s played by Jason Isaacs, a man who I will watch be a villain in anything you care to put him in, the time and attention paid to his backstory is needless.  We certainly learn more about him here than we did in the original story; In this version, Rosemary discovers a series of murders of young women in the apartment, all of whom shared a connection to wealthy resident of the apartment luxury apartment building and whom the police pursued in connection to the murders before he died 30 years ago.  Surprising no one, the original suspect and Roman Castavet are the same person.  Because he’s the Devil.  Like, literally the Devil.  And he’s the one who had sex with Rosemary, not to raise a child to sacrifice to himself, but to have a son here on Earth.  While this gives some great opportunities for Isaacs be menacing, merging the character with the demon, a change from the original, feels too small.  One of the failings of modern suspense stories, likely the result of an audience grown far savvier over time, is that no character can just be himself – any villain must also really be someone else in disguise.  The irony is that attempt to hide the villain’s true nature has the opposite effect here.  Instead of wondering who’s behind it all, we instantly suspect the worst of Roman.

Wealthy, powerful, and handsome?  Yup, clearly evil.  

There are welcome changes to this version as well.  In the film, Rosemary and her husband are a small town couple moving to New York City.  The miniseries updates this, having the couple move from New York City following a miscarriage to Paris.  I could be cynical and say this change was made in an attempt to appear new and fresh, New York having lost some of its shine as an unconquerable city coupled with every young wannabe sophisticate in the United States insisting upon proving their bone fides by having lived abroad, but to be honest I liked the change.  The writers understood that viewers are no longer sympathetic to Mia Farrow’s willow-y, weepy heroine, so the modern day Rosemary has to appear competent and capable.  She may not be like other modern day heroines in a horror movie who will get into a fistfight with a monster, but we need to at least believe that she has some of the vim and vigor that she’ll need to have us on her side.  

Putting Rosemary into a setting where she knows no one and barely even knows the language is also a nice way of further isolating her.  The social constraints against a wife in the 1960s go a long way to explaining why Mia Farrow’s Rosemary doesn’t just leave the evil apartment building and go stay with her mom for a few months or something.  Given that this modern Rosemary would almost certainly have a Facebook page in addition to probably Twitter, Instagram and any other form social networking, it would be a harder sell to put in her New York and ask us to believe that she has no way of communicating with anyone.  Putting her in a place where she literally doesn’t speak the language and is separated by an ocean from her family back home is an example of how to properly update a story.

"Voulez-vou coucher avec moi et mon démon bébé-papa?"

The change of venue has an aesthetic appeal as well.  Paris is beautiful on film and has the benefit of undercutting all that beauty with a slice of darkness.  New York worked as a setting in the film because of the city’s stained and gritty feel in the 1960s.  It was all texture and shadow, like a dirty Baroque painting.  Watching Rosemary navigate her way through Paris’s gothic streets while getting steadily weaker as her pregnancy gets more and more frightening is a really fascinating image.  Likewise the final images of a suave and sophisticated looking Rosemary walking her infant demon baby in a pram down the banks of the Seine look utterly glamorous, even if Rosemary's sudden and uncharacteristic decision to go all evil at the last minute because WOMAN MUST DO EVERYTHING FOR THEIR BABIES is, at best, falsely nostalgic writing.  

Rosemary’s Baby works as a miniseries suitable for summer watching when there isn’t a lot of new content on TV and you don’t have much else to get invested in.  And while it is overstuffed, I’ll credit the miniseries for at least attempting to bring something new to the story rather than just release it in the theatres as a bankable property with new faces but old ideas.

Penny Not Quite Dreadful But Working On It Maybe?

Obviously, I am a friend to the supernatural horror television show.  If your premise involves humans fighting scary monsters, possibly with some snark or at least a heavy amount of innovative production design, I’m probably your guy.   So I’ve been intrigued by Showtime’s upcoming series Penny Dreadful, which has been so shrouded in mystery that no one even really knew what it was about other than that it looked vaguely Victorian and possibly a little steampunk-y. Thankfully for those of us who don’t have Showtime, you can stream the entire first episode over on YouTube right now and check it out for yourself. Or you can read my blog post! (Hint: do the second one.)

So what is Penny Dreadful about?  Even after watching the first episode, it’s hard to say.  Essentially, it’s London in 1891.  American Ethan Chandler (Josh Hartnet) is running a travelling Wild West themed show that’s mostly bullshit when he is conscripted by Mysterious Woman Vanessa Ives (Eva Green) to help her with a job that’s going to require his uncanny skill with a pistol.  The job turns out to be invading an opium den where the goings on aren’t exactly of this earth.  Before we know it, our American is drawn into a world of monsters and maybe possibly ghosts but certainly tarot cards and it’s all going to be extremely Victorian.  There’s a lot going on here, so let’s unpack it properly, shall we?

"Wot's awl this then, Guv'nor?"

The Good

First, the production design.  Great Muppety Odin does this show look slick.  The costumes are lavish, the sets are beautiful if a little too bare (this was Victorian London, after all – the culture that never met an extra piece of furniture it wouldn’t cram into a room the size of a closet), and the makeup and special effects are appropriately gory and queasy.  There's no shortage of sewn-together flesh, mangled limbs, and dark red splatters against those good old London bricks, but for all the blood, we still never feel like we're veering too far into the torture-porn territory of modern horror movies. 

Second, the source material.  This show is drawing from every Victorian horror trope you can think of.  Imagine Van Helsing or Hansel & Gretl: Witch Hunters but without the camp factor and taking itself more seriously.  Your mileage may vary on this, but if you’re a fan of old school literary horror, you’re definitely going to find something in here you like.  Likewise, you may find yourself in a few solid Pillow of Fear moments if you’re not careful. 

Third, Eva Green. Kids, this lady personifies the phrase “screen presence”.  After the first episode, we know next to nothing about her character, Vanessa Ives, and yet every time Eva Green is on the screen you can’t help but pay attention to her.  Even through some sloppy editing and confusing action sequences, Eva Green feels like the character that we can latch onto because she’s so clear in her intentions, even if we don’t know what those intentions are.

"I own you, bitches."

The Bad

First, disorganization of plot.  The bad guys are definitely vampires.  Maybe definitely.  Except they’re also kind of zombies.  Zombie vampires?  But then, the doctor on our team discovers that their skin is concealing an exo-skeleton.  So, aliens I guess?  But the exoskeleton is covered in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.  Alien mummy vampire zombies?  Sure.  Let’s go with that for now.  And they want… something?  And our heroes want… to stop them?  To get their lost loved ones back?  From where?  Good mystery shows should never give you the full story in the first episode, obviously.  But a good mystery needs to give us enough of the facts of the story to make us want to keep learning more. 

Personally, I'm just hoping that the monsters are like this. 

Second, the source material.  Again.  Remember how when you had your first job interview and you tried to turn all your weaknesses into strengths?  Just like that here.  This show is crammed full of things.  Everything and the kitchen sink is thrown at us in terms of characters.  It’s kind of like League of Extraordinary Gentleman meets The Exorcist. Maybe it's a by-product of the Glee television generation where every plotline is thrown at the viewer as quickly as possible, but just because that's a style doesn't make it a recommended one. 

Third, pretention.  The show is trying very hard to stay true to the horror aspects of Victorian literature.  In that sense, it’s got more than a strand or two of DNA borrowed from NBC’s Hannibal, the show about everyone’s favorite serial-killing cannibal, but unfortunately it hasn’t quite achieved the same smoothly stylized high-art feel that Hannibal has managed to corner.  That doesn’t stop it from trying to hide its more cringe-inducing moments under the veneer of this being some kind of story that Means Something.

The Ugly

Oh gosh, you guys – the dialogue needs work.  In addition to some of the most cliché-ridden stuff you’ve heard in a while, whole stretches go one where characters will be talking to each other in ways that no human, Victorian or otherwise, ever would. It’s again a testament to Eva Green’s screen presence that whenever she’s talking, she can draw you in, even if you don’t understand a single sentence.  Far too frequently the dialogue veers into the cardinal sin of fiction writing – it’s all tell, no show.  We hear about how deep and significant characters are, but we don’t see it at all.  It’s just one character telling us how much we need to care without making us actually do it.

As such, the most troubling part of the first episode for me is how much I didn’t care about what was happening.  The episode failed my iPhone test, which is to say that I lost interest about halfway through and started playing with my phone while watching the second half.  Pilots are never easy beasts, but this one is particularly fussy.  I found myself not understanding anything about the plot or the characters or why anyone was acting the way they did at any point.

NO, WAIT! DON'T LEAVE ME!

A family member of mine likes to say that in relationships, there’s often one person who’s reaching and one person who is settling.  That's pessimistic, but I don't think it's necessarily inaccurate.  If we carry that metaphor forward to the screen, Penny Dreadful is definitely reaching for the love of its viewers.  That doesn’t mean that viewers will have to settle, but it’s not the best dynamic to start with. Hopefully, this show can pull itself up.  Showtime and HBO are both networks that, due to filming entire seasons in one go, are more comfortable thinking of their episodes as book chapters rather than individual mini-movies that have to break every box office record or else the next episode isn’t going to air.  

As such, Penny Dreadful may be the kind of show that rewards its viewers a few episodes in.  That’s certainly a possibility given that the first episode doesn’t even introduce all the main characters – there’s still plenty of time to grow.  Fan-favorite Billie Piper hasn't even shown up, and it sounds like her character is some kind of potential prostitute because Showtime knows that nerds like to see Billie Piper being sexy.  Fans, and Showtime, will just have to hope that the rewards start coming quickly or else all that beautiful messy potential is going to end up splattered like the blood that Penny Dreadful clearly isn’t afraid to shed.

Recapping AHS: Something Witchy This Way Comes

We’re back, everyone! We’ve all suffered through/enjoyed a long year without turning on our television sets and watching Jessica Lange and Company do something that makes us say “dafuq?” out loud. What say we end that streak, shall we? Read on for the recap for the first episode of American Horror Story: Coven.

Snakes. Why does it always have to be snakes?

Picture it. New Orleans. 1834. None other than Madame Delphine LaLaurie (Kathy Bates) is introducing her three daughters to some eligible gentlemen at a society ball.  They’re all prizes, with the possible exception of the youngest. “Perhaps my talents are in the boudoir,” the youngest daughter snarks. Right out the gate, AHS.  Later that night, Madame is coating her face with blood and complaining that it isn’t fresh enough to reverse the signs of aging like she’s accustomed to when one of her servants breaks the news that the slutty daughter has been caught making Victorian-era whoopee with Bastien, a slave, though Bastien swears it was her who came on to him. Oh Bastien. This is the pre-war South. And did you read that Wikipedia entry about how LaLaurie treated her slaves? This isn’t going to go well for you, my friend.  Madame has Bastien brought to her attic, which is stuffed to the gills with slaves who have been tortured. It’s grotesque – some have broken and warped bodies, others have their skin peeled off their faces.

“You want to behave like a beast,” she tells Bastien, “We’re going to treat you like one.” She has the hollowed out head of a bull placed over Bastien’s head like a mask while she pontificates on how she always loved the story of the Minotaur.

Man, that reparations argument is just getting stronger and stronger.

To the modern day! We meet Zoe (Taissa Farmiga, who played Violet in season 1), a teenage girl with an eye toward love, or at least scoring with a boy that she’s brought back to her house to make sweet, tender, first-time love with since her parents don’t get home until 6pm. It’s going exactly as losing your virginity should, right up until the boy begins to bleed from his eyes. And then from everywhere else as he hemorrhages in front of her. Bummer.

Zoe’s mother explains to her that turns out she’s a witch and not to worry, grandmother was the same way, but it’s really time to get this looked after. And so Zoe is transported (by train, natch) from her home to Miss Robichaux’s, a school in New Orleans for young witches in the company of an OMGYOUGUYSSERIOUSLYAMAZING Mrytle Snow (Played in campy, crazy goodness by Frances Conroy) who talks with a Mid-Atlantic accent and says things like, “I’m simply MAD about Tartan” while admiring Zoe’s drapes. She’s also with two albino black men, because why not?

Oh yeah. I can work with this. 

Witchcraft, it turns out, is not always predictable. “It doesn’t show up in every family member,” Zoe voiceover’s. “Like my cousin, Amanda. She’s just bulimic.” It’s happened often enough though that the witches from old Salem Towne got out of dodge when things got rough and fled to New Orleans to train new witches in peace. Even in the 17^th century, everyone from up north went to Mardi Gras, apparently.

Zoe arrives at the sprawling completely creepy mansion that is Miss Robichaaux’s. As she enters, the albinos and the crazy campy woman vanish behind her. Doors open on their own, creeking, etc. etc, leading me to doubt this school’s accreditation. Zoe is suddenly ambushed by three figures in black robes and masks who throw her to the ground and bring down a knife to stab her before pulling back to reveal themselves as the three other students of the school. I guess this was, like, her hazing or something? Man, just have her drink a bunch of shots and then circle the parts of her thighs that are too fat like all other civilized co-eds.

Roll call! There’s Madison (Emma Roberts), the Hollywood movie star who is also a telekinetic. Next is Queenie (Gabourey Sidibe), the human voodoo doll. Finally, there’s Nan (Jamie Brewer, who played Addie in season 1), a clairvoyant. The entire place is run by Cordelia Foxx (Sarah Paulson), who explains that the school started off innocently enough in the 18^th century, but was acquired by witches in the 19^th century to train young witches, usually with classes around 60 women, but now most of the witches have died out. Cordelia explains that most witches have one or two gifts, but in every generation there is a Supreme who has all of them. As an object lesson in safety and needing to keep hidden, Cordelia tells the girls about another girl who was killed just a month ago not far from the city, a girl named Misty Day (Lily Rabe, who’s played more drunk socialites and possessed nuns than anyone on this show) who had the power to return dead things to life. Sadly, Misty was also a member of a snake-handling Christian group, who saw her gif t as less Holy Revelation, more Work of the Devil and burned Misty alive. (Fear not - Lily Rabe is listed as a lead character this season. Betting she’s coming back.) The point is, from Cordelia’s perspective, keep your heads down if you want to survive, girls.

Still better looking than Dumbledore...

In Los Angeles, we meet Cordelia’s mother, Fiona (Jessica Fuckin’ Lange), who is meeting with a researcher conducting cutting edge work on drugs to reverse aging. Fiona is impressed with the researcher’s work and wants to know when she can get in on the drug that her late husband’s money entirely funded. The researcher isn’t too excited about jumping the queue into human trials. “What we do here is not magic,” he tells her. Heh.

Regardless, Fiona is apparently successful in her argument. Five days later, she is in her penthouse apartment getting high and dancing to In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (‘Cause wouldn’t you!?!) and getting pissed that she has yet to revert to the body of an 18 year old. She summons the researcher to demand more drugs, but he has nothing to give her. “We’re organic matter,” he says. “We rot and we die.” Not in Fiona’s plans, apparently, as she causes all the windows and doors to fly closed and lock and moves in on the researcher, kissing him passionately. He struggles, but gives in as he slowly begins to wither in her arms. When she’s done, he’s a dehydrated corpse who has aged 50 years and Fiona is looking stunning, young and beautiful. For a few moments, at least. She reverts quickly back to her older body, disgusted with herself.

Dinner at Hogwarts. Madison is mocking the butler, who looks exactly like Riff Raff from Rocky Horror and apparently is missing a tongue. Seriously. Can’t wait for that backstory. The four girls alternately snark each other and ask what they’re in for. Madison is there because she “accidently” killed a director who gave her a bad note that she didn’t like. It’s not long before the girls start using their powers on each other before cooler heads prevail and two of them stalk off. Madison informs Zoe that they’re going to a frat party tonight.

Cordelia is apparently skilled at potions and tinctures and is relaxing by brewing up some new concoctions in her garden/lab when Fiona surprises her. Fiona is disappointed that Delia has never lived up to her full potential – Fiona is the Supreme and Delia could be so much more than a teacher. Fiona has come back to New Orleans because she heard about Misty and fear that “this is Salem all over again.” She wants Delia to teach the girls how to fight, not to cower, and she’s come back to do just that, even if that means mother and daughter having to live under the same roof again. It’s bad enough for any adult child to hear that from a parent, just imagine if that parent was the most powerful witch in the modern age? Goes a long way to explaining why Delia is single.

Time for the frat party. There’s a keg bus, natch, and inside Frat President Kyle (Evan Peters, also returning from seasons 1 and 2) is explaining to his brothers how much fun they can have at this party without getting their charter revoked after some unfortunate disciplinary action by their university. Have to say, so far this is the part of the episode I most believe is accurate. Anyway, the frat brothers descend just as Madison and Zoe do as well. Horny Frat Boy #1 has his eyes on Madison, but Frat Boy With A Heart of Gold Kyle is taken with Zoe. Ah, the sweet sting of young love, which is never felt clearer than when two eyes meet through the ice luge at a Sig Eps rager.

"So, my vagina kills. That's what the writers gave me this season. Get abducted by any aliens lately or shoot up any schools on your way here?"

Madison, meanwhile, is Mean Girl-ing it up. She spots Horny Frat Boy and demands that he get her a drink and be her slave for the night. He willingly agrees. Know what you shouldn’t really do? Ask a morally bankrupt frat boy to mind your drinks. It takes all of five minutes before Madison is roofied out the wazoo and the entire bus of frat brothers are gang raping her in one of the rooms upstairs. This is AHS, guys. You know rape was coming sooner or later. Never change, AHS. It’s only interrupted when Kyle discovers them after Zoe asks for his help finding Madison. The Frat Boys flee back to the bus, pursued by Kyle. The brothers knock Kyle out and begin to drive the keg bus away from the party just as Zoe tries to chase it down in vain. But you know what the one thing worse than a bunch of rapey frat boys are? When their victim is a witch who is also telekinetic. Madison causes the bus to flip into the air, crashing back down and exploding.

The next morning, the girls are having breakfast when Fiona breezes into the room bemoaning “college boys taken in the prime of their lives. But then, the world’s not going to miss a bunch of assholes in Ed Hardy shirts.” Fiona tells Madison that was fine work, but she was sloppy. She’s taking them all on field trip to start their new instruction.

Madeline: The Adult Version

She brings them through the French Quarter giving the girls history of the underground covens of New Orleans. “When witches don’t fight, we burn,” she advises them. They’re distracted, though, when Nan wanders off to the house of Madame LaLaurie, which still stands in New Orleans despite being once owned by Nicholas Cage (true story) and the haunted tour that’s going on inside. Fiona glamours the docent into letting them in for free and we all get a magical mystery tour of exposition.

Madame LaLaurie apparently tried to fight age and keep herself young and fresh by creating poultices from the pancreases of her slaves, ripped out of them while alive.  That is, until the day she was approached by Marie Laveau (played here by Angela Bassett), who offered her a love potion that would ensure her husband’s fidelity. Madame drank Laveau’s concoction, but as anyone could guess, it was a poison, not a love potion. Turns out that slave that was turned into the Minotaur? He was Marie’s lover and she extracted her revenge. To this day, Madame LaLarie’s body has never been found. It’s then that Fiona notices Nan staring suspiciously at the backyard. “What do you hear?” Fiona asks her. “The lady of the house,” Nan replies.

I personally can't wait for the scene when she learns about the Civil Rights Act.

Zoe meanwhile has taken a detour to the hospital to see which of the frat boys survived the crash and hoping that one of the two survivors is Kyle. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Yeah, life’s a bitch – it’s the guy who was leading all the raping. And so Zoe makes a choice – her vagina has the power to kill, after all. All it takes is a little hand job for the unconscious rapey frat boy followed by a quick mounting and it’s hemorrhages all around!

That night, Fiona has paid two workers to dig up the backyard of Madame LaLaurie’s house and they have found a suspiciously human-sized box in the ground. She glamours the workers into forgetting her and opens the wooden casket to find a still hale and healthy looking Madame LaLaurie, quivering and shaking and bound in chains. “Come on, Mary Todd Lincoln,” Fiona says as she frees her. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

So, right off the bat we’re away from the muted tones and repressive feeling of season two’s Asylum. This is all glamour and camp and a whole lotta lady power, maybe as an antidote to the amount of violence done to the female characters last season? As someone who personally doesn’t find witches all that frightening, I’ll have to see how scary this season gets. MaggieCats will also have to update us on any of her Pillow of Fear moments, but for right now all I’m stuck on is, “needs more Angela Bassett.”

MOAR ANGELA!!! MOAR!!!!