I’ll admit, Netflix’s latest teen flick, Dumplin’, wasn’t a film I went into with very high hopes. With that in mind, I can safely say Dumplin’ surpassed my expectations by quite the stretch. Sometimes it’s great to be wrong – and boy was I wrong. Of course, the film’s no cinematic masterpiece, but it’s not trying to be. Dumplin’ succeeds in all the ways Sierra Burgess Is A Loser failed, sending a positive, heartwarming message about body positivity that doesn’t feel forced or in-your-face politically correct. Dumplin’ has a strong emotional core, with surprisingly realistic characters that balance out the film’s sillier side.
Based on Julia Murphy’s novel of the same name, Dumplin’ follows the story of Willowdean, a teenage girl whose mother, played by Jennifer Aniston, is a former pageant winner. Willowdean always felt more connected to her beloved Aunt Lucy than her image-obsessed mother, as she shared Willowdean’s values of confidence and body positivity – along with a love of Dolly Parton. After the loss of her Aunt Lucy, Willowdean is surprised to discover that Lucy had once wished to enter a pageant like her sister, but never went through with it because of her weight. Willowdean decides to enter her local pageant in honour of her aunt (and in spite of her mother) to prove that you don’t have to be skinny to compete.
I was surprised by how much I liked the main character, Willowdean, played by Australian actress, Danielle Macdonald. Straight off the bat she seemed so have a very strong sense of her identity, which was a refreshing change from the usual strain of self-pity you often see in teenage characters. Yes, Willowdean has issues with her weight, and yes that does affect her confidence, but it certainly doesn’t define her. Unlike Sierra Burgess of Sierra Burgess is a Loser, Willowdean is a charismatic, positive individual that doesn’t make you constantly question why anyone would ever want to spend time with her. This allows the film to explore Willowdean’s struggles with her insecurities in a way that actually feels genuine.
Willowdean’s relationships with her friends and family are similarly genuine, which gives the world of Dumplin’ a wonderfully lived-in energy. Female friendships are the true heart of this film, each one as complex and well-developed as you could hope for given the time constraints. Each female character has their own personal journey and core values. Although they often contradict Willowdean’s, each of them comes to their own throughout the film and are allowed to flourish as their own person. This wide variety of characters, who are each wholeheartedly accepted for who they are (by the end of the film at least) sends a wonderful message to audiences. It was lovely to see such a range of women come together, support one another and most importantly, have a whole lot of fun.
Music plays a large part in the film, and Dolly Parton is the star. Willowdean’s love of Parton is the cherry on top of Dumplin’s southern charm. The music ties the whole film together, from Parton’s greatest hits, to the six original songs she wrote specifically for the film (including the Golden Globe-nominated song, “Girl in the Movies”). The result is an unapologetic celebration of southern style and glamour, through a refreshingly youthful gaze.
The pageant setting just adds to the fun. Similar to Sandra Bullock’s Miss Congeniality (2000), Dumplin’ doesn’t take any definitive stance on pageant culture, merely pointing out some of the positives and negatives along the way and leaving the audience to decide for themselves. Although her mother’s pageant career may have negatively affected Willowdean’s self-esteem, she still gives the pageant a chance. She ends up enjoying her time, whilst remaining thoroughly aware of pageant culture’s faults. Willowdean never had any interest in winning, but she still supports her friend, Millie, who aspires to win the pageant despite her weight. The pageant brought the girls together, and it was just lovely to watch them support each other, regardless of their wildly different priorities. Perhaps in the real world it wouldn’t have been such a fairytale, but it sure does make for a wholesome viewing experience.
The one thing I expected to see a lot more of in Dumplin’ is romance. I was pleasantly surprised to see it take the back seat, as, at no point is romance the main priority of the film. It’s portrayed quite realistically, as one of the many aspects of Willowdean’s life, explored in the form of a charming subplot that, somehow, never feels forced. Willowdean’s love interest, Bo, began the film as her friend and co-worker. You could already see that the two were close – it was just Willowdean’s denial holding their relationship back from progressing further. He had a clear admiration for her from the start, and so it seemed only natural when his feelings took a more definitive turn for the romantic. I enjoyed the depth they brought to the root of Willowdean’s denial, shining light on her hidden insecurities. Despite her confident exterior, Willowdean couldn’t understand why Bo would like her, becoming automatically uncomfortable and self-conscious when he touched her or made any romantic advances. This brought to light how deeply ingrained some prejudices are within us, that no matter how confident you are, social conditioning can still have a huge impact on the way you see yourself. It’s moments like this that are so important to see. It’s such a common thing that often goes unmentioned, and Dumplin’ weaves it in so perfectly.
Is Dumplin’ a perfect film? Not by a longshot, but it’s lighthearted and fun nonetheless, with its fair share of touching, poignant moments along the way. It certainly had far more depth than I expected to see. For fans of teen drama, or coming of age flicks, Dumplin’ is a must watch this holiday season.
I tried to write this article when I first heard about Daredevil’s cancellation, but it quickly became clear that I needed a little time to cool off and collect my thoughts. I was, quite simply, too angry to put any coherent words to paper (and anyone who’s seen my Twitter will know I did not take the news well.) I’m choosing to preface this article by warning you that I am completely biased on this subject. Daredevil is one of my favourite TV shows of all time and Karen Page is my favourite female character of all time. I’m currently in the middle of rewatching season three with my parents, so the show is very present in my mind right now. All of these factors combined led to me being, like so many others, completely distraught when I heard the news. It’s a tough blow. Season three of Daredevil reached wide critical acclaim and completely revitalised the series, solidifying Daredevil’s place as the strongest of Netflix’s Marvel shows. So, why has it been cancelled?
Well, many fans quickly pointed the finger at Disney’s upcoming streaming service – Disney+. After the recent cancellations of Iron Fist and Luke Cage, rumours of possible tension between Netflix and Marvel arose. Many theorised that the cancellations were due to struggles over contract negotiations. Perhaps Disney wanted to come out of the gates running as a new and upcoming streaming service, and no longer wanted to be generating a profit for its primary competition. Nonetheless, fans hoped Daredevil would still be safe from the dubbed “Disney Purge” due to its commercial success and its higher level of critical acclaim than Netflix’s other Marvel shows.
To the fans frustration, both Iron Fist’s and Luke Cage’s second (and now final) seasons ended on cliff-hangers, leaving no doubt that their cancellations came as a shock to the creators. It wasn’t as much of a surprise to fans however, as Luke Cage and Iron Fist especially, were two of the least successful Marvel/Netflix creations (although I would personally still defend Luke Cage season 2 till my dying breath… and the first half of season one.) Many wrote the cancellations off due to the shows’ lack of widespread popularity, remaining hopeful that fan favourites like Daredevil would remain untouched. Some fans even speculated that Luke Cage and Danny Rand might still live on in a joint Heroes for Hire series, which would suit the family-friendly branding of Disney+. However, now that Daredevil has been axed also, fans are left to assume that Disney is in fact purging all of its content from competing streaming platforms. This would indicate that Netflix’s remaining Marvel shows, Jessica Jones and The Punisher, are likely to get the chop shortly after the release of their upcoming seasons.
It seems like a clear-cut case for Disney being the one responsible for Daredevil’s cancellation – or so I thought. Fans derived an opposing theory from a recent tweet from Daredevil’s Co-Executive Producer, Sam Ernst. The tweet in question read “Had a last lunch yesterday with the Daredevil writers. Sushi provided by our Captain, @erikoleson. Marvel execs there too, just as stunned as we were. More than lunch, really: a wake. A show gets cancelled, all those characters we love die. Why I hate my job. Why I love it, too.” If Disney cancelled Daredevil, then surely the Marvel Executives would be aware of the show’s cancellation. There is, of course, rumoured tension between the Marvel film creators and the Marvel TV creators – so perhaps this is simply a case of miscommunication between separate branches of Marvel. However, it’s also possible that it was actually Netflix that cancelled Daredevil, not Disney.
Time and time again, Netflix has demonstrated its prioritisation for cheap, profitable projects over more expensive higher-quality projects (see Sense8 and The Get Down). Netflix may not have wanted to pay increasing licencing costs to Disney, especially now that Disney is rolling out its new streaming service in direct competition to Netflix. I’m honestly not sure I want to believe this theory, and it’s not because I don’t think it’s possible; it’s because I’d hate to see Daredevil cancelled over something so arbitrary, so impersonal.
You see, I can understand if a show is cancelled due to low quality, low viewership or extortionate production costs – at least these reasons are in some way a reflection on the show itself. Daredevil’s cancellation is a by-product. It’s the result of Disney and Netflix’s refusal to compromise, not even for the sake of their joint creation – which neither could have made without the other’s help in the first place. Maybe the cancellation is a result of Netflix deciding Daredevil isn’t worth its cost anymore; maybe it’s that simple. Maybe it’s because Disney thinks they don’t need Netflix to create content for them anymore (even though Marvel originally went to Netflix because it could create far darker content than Marvel could – which is very much still a factor under ‘family-friendly’ Disney’s reign.)
I’d say Disney has more motivation to pull the plug on Daredevil than Netflix does, but there’s enough implication of Netflix being the true culprit for me to stay open-minded. Netflix certainly has a history of axing critically acclaimed shows out of the blue, so I wouldn’t put it past them. Either way, the decision had nothing to do with the fan’s wishes or the quality of the content they were putting out. It had nothing to do with the hard work of the cast and crew, who deserve a proper send-off. At the end of the day, Daredevil’s cancellation is a harsh lesson and reminder of how truly brutal this industry can be.
When I heard about the Coen Brothers latest film, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, I couldn’t wait for a chance to watch it. I wasn’t sure what it was going to be, but I was expecting it to be good. What I got was unexpected, but certainly still good. I’m not sure I could say I enjoyed the film, but it was fascinating nonetheless. Incredible writing, directing, acting… the whole shebang. The finished product is an anthology of unrelated short films set in the Wild West. As a whole entity, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is both thought-provoking and realistically bleak. Each individual chapter reflects these elements to varying extents, through wonderfully innovative means.
The first chapter, “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” follows Buster Scruggs himself – a charismatic, good-spirited, yet ruthless outlaw. From its Ferris Bueller-esque narration, stylish fight scenes and a cheerful musical number to top it all off, this chapter is effortlessly entertaining. It deviates from the usual dashing hero cliché in a dark twist where Buster proves that he isn’t nearly as invincible as he pretends to be. “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” is a bold and brilliantly comical start to the film.
“Near Algodones” takes a darker path, starring James Franco as a bank robber who narrowly escapes his sentencing. This tension-laden chapter explores the harsh course of Western justice and the mindset of a broken outlaw as he nonchalantly yields to his ironic yet inevitable fate.
“Meal ticket” balances its disturbing brutality with its eccentric flair. This chapter stars Liam Neeson as a travelling entertainer, with Harry Melling as his crowd-magnet actor with no limbs. It explores the mechanics of their relationship and sheds a satirical light on the money-hungry entertainment industry in its earliest forms. “Meal ticket” is an intriguing story, that gradually descends into the harsh brutality of the truly desperate.
The fourth chapter, “All Gold Canyon,” is a refreshingly simple narrative that relieves some of the tension from the previous two chapters. Inspired by Jack London’s short story, this chapter follows a gold digger who ventures to a picturesque canyon in an obsessively systematic search for a gold vein. His precision and hard work is threatened by a man shadowing his search, but his passion gives him the final edge. Undoubtedly the most optimistic chapter in the film, “All Gold Canyon” highlights the rich rewards of persistence and strategy, with some beautiful imagery and underlying themes of mankind’s destruction of nature on the side.
The next chapter, “The Gal Who Got Rattled” is an adaptation of Stewart Edward White’s 1901 short story of the same name. It stars Zoe Kazan as a young woman travelling along the Oregon Trail with her brother in search of a better life. However, when the brother meets a sudden death on the trail, the young woman is left to pay off his debts and fend for herself. The chapter becomes a story about a romance of convenience that starts growing into something more. At its conclusion, the travellers’ overcompensated fear of the ‘savage’ Native Americans works against them in a bleak and bitterly ironic ending.
The final chapter, “The Mortal Remains” is a tense, intriguing story that makes for a perfect thought-provoking conclusion. It follows the journey of five travellers sharing a stagecoach – an Englishman, an Irishman, a Frenchman, a lady and a trapper. It’s a simple enough premise, but it takes a sinister turn when the Englishman and the Irishman reveal that they are bounty hunters, escorting their deceased bounty to its final resting place. This revelation disturbs the other carriage members, as the Englishman’s wording seems to imply that they are in fact the real bounties being ferried. The Englishman continues to describe his work with the Irishman, referring to themselves as “harvesters of souls.” Though left ambiguous, it is inferred that the three travellers are departed souls being escorted from this world by the Englishman and the Irishman, who are representations of the Grim Reaper and Death respectively.
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs subverts Hollywood’s glamourized depictions of the Wild West, instead shining a light on the era’s darker nature. This thought-provoking anthology is not for casual viewing, and might not appeal to everyone as a result. But for those who do enjoy the dark and disturbing, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs’s satirical and profound exploration of the Wild West is definitely worth a watch.
Going into these the last five episodes of The Haunting of Hill House, my main questions were: what’s up with the red door, what really happened to the children’s mother, and why is the house haunted in the first place? Two of the three were answered throughout these next five episodes, which leaves room for another season if they decide to make one.
Before I talk about the individual episodes, I’ll just start by addressing the show and these last five episodes, as a whole. Now, I’m probably the last person to finish this series. At first, I just thought it was just because I’m a bit of a wimp but, when I got to these last five episodes, I found myself moving through them much faster. They follow directly on from one another, which made it much harder to stop watching. The first five were more self-contained, and I actually liked taking a break between episodes to just sit with each individual character for a while.
These last five episodes have really made me appreciate the slower pacing in the first five – and I don’t mean that in a bad way. It was only when all the children came together that I realised just how much depth each character has. They have that depth because the writers took the time to flesh out each character individually, and the last five episodes work so incredibly well as a result.
I forgot to mention in my review of episodes 1-5 how much I love this show’s opening titles. I’m a big fan of opening titles in general. I don’t know if that weird thing to be a fan of, but this show’s titles is one of my favourites. If you read my previous review, then you’ll know that the show’s pilot didn’t leave too much of an impression on me at first, but you know what did? That’s right – the opening titles. They are very spooky and atmospheric and in my official reviewer opinion, they are, in fact, pretty rad. They’re probably half the reason I came back to the show in the first place and I simply couldn’t do another review without saying so.
Now let’s get into the individual episodes. Strap in – this is a long one.
Timothy Hutton, Elizabeth Reaser, Anthony Ruivivar, and Kate Siegel in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
In episode 6, “Two Storms,” our main characters are finally all in the one place – thanks Nell. The episode is a well-needed standstill after the harrowing “Bent-Neck Lady,” as the characters come together to mourn Nell. Now we finally have a chance to see all the messed-up family dynamics clashing together at full force. The characters reflect on their memories of Nell, frustrating one another with their conflicting defence mechanisms.
Steve interrogates their father in search of some much-needed answers, and they attempt to piece together what really happened to Nell. Steve believes Nell must have inherited some sort of mental illness from their mother, whilst Luke maintains Nell’s death wasn’t a suicide – that it was the result of something supernatural.
Theo confronts Shirley, revealing she took Steven’s money. Shirley’s husband admits he also took the money and Shirley, who somehow held herself together throughout the first five episodes, finally had the breakdown I’d been waiting to see. Later in the episode, Shirley is shocked to find her husband and Theo in close quarters. It appears as though Theo is attempting to kiss Shirley’s husband, which doesn’t make sense. It isn’t explained in this episode, but I expect it will be the source of some drama to come.
In a discussion with Luke, the father agrees that the house had somehow killed Nell. Luke pushes him to confirm that their mother hadn’t killed herself either but he refuses. Steven joins in the argument, also appearing to believe their father is still hiding information from them about that night.
There was little new information provided in the flashbacks this episode, which simply told the story of one particularly stormy night in the house where Nell goes missing. The father sees an unexplained ghostly apparition of his wife whilst they search for Nell, starting to hint at the mysteries to come centred around the children’s mother.
This episode was a perfect opportunity for the characters to reconcile and express their struggles to one another, allowing them to begin moving forward – and hopefully bring them closer to finding out what actually happened to the mother.
Michiel Huisman, and Oliver Jackson-Cohen in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
In many ways, episode seven, “Eulogy,” feels like the second instalment of “Two Storms,” directly following on from both the flash-back timeline and modern-day timeline of the previous episode. Like “Two Storms,” episode seven is more focused on the progression of family relationships than it is on adding much to the haunted house plotline.
The supernatural side of the story is mostly reflected throughout the flashbacks – which shift attention back to the mysterious room with the red door. At one point, the father vents out his growing frustrations with the house by unsuccessfully attempting to force his way through the door, but it remains inexplicably impenetrable. The house is full of water damage after the storm in the previous episode, which pushes back the repairs considerably – as if the house is refusing to let the family leave.
We also see signs of the mother reaching a breaking point, when the father wakes up to see her pressing a knife to his throat. The father also notices her drawings of their future “forever house” have a remarkably similar layout to Hill House. Later in the episode, one of the water-damaged walls is demolished to reveal a decaying human skeleton – which is a good indicator that there is some sort of backstory for the house’s supernatural happenings. Whether this backstory will ruin the ‘spooky’ factor of the house remains to be seen, but this discovery (along with the mother’s descent into hysteria) shows a definite step towards finding some much-needed answers.
In the modern-day timeline, the episode focuses on the father, Hugh, on the day of Nell’s funeral. Throughout the episode, he interacts with each of the children individually, giving the audience an insight into each of the withstanding parent-child relationships. He sees and interacts with a vision of the children’s mother, which he tells Luke about towards the end of the episode, where he implies that she’s just a projection of his grief. Luke also experiences a vision earlier in the episode of Nell at her grave. In their later conversation, Hugh implies that Luke’s vision, unlike his own, was likely real in some sense. Steve was the one with Luke when the vision actually occurred, and he maintained that it was due to some sort of hereditary mental illness – warning Luke that if he wasn’t careful, he would end up like Nell and their mother.
Later in the episode, Luke goes missing along with Shirley’s wallet and Theo’s car, and the others assume the worst. Shirley and Steve go out looking for Luke and back at Shirley’s house, Theo and Hugh find the model of the “forever home” has been destroyed. Theo then experiences a similar vision of Nell to Luke’s.
In this episode, we finally get to see flashbacks of what happened between Hugh and the police on the day after the family fled the house. The episode concludes with the revelation that Hugh found the red door open on the night they ran from Hill House, but he conceals this fact in his statement to the police. I can only assume that the room has something to do with the mother’s death, but I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.
Elizabeth Reaser and Kate Siegel in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
Now, because I don’t hate myself, I have not watched a single episode of this show at night. Well, I hadn’t, until I watched episode eight, “Witness Marks.” In fact, I watched this episode just before I went to bed – like the idiot I am. I actually thought I was going to get away with it, but the jumpscare of Nell screaming in the car got me… and then the ending really got me.
Anyway, this episode we’re back to Steve, and we finally get more information about what happened between him and his wife – which he had been awfully tight-lipped about up until this point. Steve’s father encourages him to reconcile with his wife, but Steve dismisses him, still holding his father accountable for his mother’s death. He implies that his father may have abused her, as some of her injuries that the police report documented couldn’t have been self-inflicted. Regardless – in keeping with his belief that their family is mentally ill – Steve also blames his father simply because “the one person who was supposed to care about her didn’t do a goddamn thing to get her help.”
Steve tells Hugh that he had a vasectomy right out of college because he never wanted to pass on the family’s mental illness. He had lied about this to his wife, which is what lead to their separations. In turn, Hugh disputes Steve’s ‘mental illness’ theory, telling him the house itself is the real danger. He implies that the house had some personal vendetta against their family in particular and tells Steve the house is especially dangerous for him because of what he wrote in his book. In an effort to convince Steve, Hugh reveals that many of the events Steve wrote as fact simply weren’t possible. A man Steve saw fixing a clock was never there, and the treehouse, which was featured in a number of flashbacks of Steve’s memories, was never there. This discussion occurs as the family continues their search for Luke, who they discover may be on his way to burn down Hill House.
Back at Shirley’s house, we see Shirley’s marriage problems continue after she saw Theo and her husband almost kissing in episode six. Left alone in her home, Shirley hears repeated knocks on her front door, but each time she checks outside, she doesn’t see anyone there. She convinces herself that it’s just kids messing around. When Theo comes back, the two fight about what had really happened with Shirley’s husband. The fight is interrupted by repeated knocking from all over the house. A shaken Shirley still insists its kids stirring up trouble, but Theo dismisses her, saying, “you know it wasn’t.” Both of our sceptics, Shirley and Steve, are therefore forced to face the possibility that their supernatural encounters are in fact real. As we drive closer to the end of the season, these realisations will hopefully help the family become a united front.
Shirley and Theo both see the same apparition of Nell screaming (which frightened me half to death) whilst arguing in the car. Theo breaks down and explains to Shirley how touching Nell’s dead body had made her feel completely empty, as if she were also dead. This scene was probably the highlight of the episode; it was incredibly emotional, and Theo’s descriptions of what death felt like were truly horrifying.
The flashbacks in the episode continue to show the mother’s descent into some sort of madness. We also hear more backstory about the Hill family, who apparently met in a mental asylum – nice.
The episode ends with Luke entering the house, pouring gasoline everywhere and attempting to light in on fire. Oh boy did I have chills. From the moment the house lit up as it had done for Nell, I was a goner. Now, I know I said in my previous review that Luke’s episode wasn’t my favourite, but I’ll admit I’ve grown quite fond of him over the past few episodes – though I’m not sure I realised it until this scene. I was genuinely distraught over the possibility of Luke dying, and if it hadn’t been for John Mulaney’s New in Town airing on TV that night, (like a gift from God himself) I’m not sure I would’ve slept a wink. Any episode that can make me feel that amount emotion is a good one in my book.
Carla Gugino in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
Episode nine, “Screaming Meemies” was the episode that I’d been waiting for. The entire episode occurs in the flashback timeline, showing the mother’s perspective of the events leading up to her death. The mother, Olivia, experiences a vision towards the beginning of the episode, of an adult version of Nell lying dead, with Luke on the floor next to her with a needle in his arm – which was all kinds of disturbing. This vision instils a sense of fear in Olivia for the twins going forward. She tells her husband about the vision, and he assumes it was a dream but she doesn’t seem convinced.
Olivia often sees spirits around the house. One woman disturbs her in particular, Poppy Hill – who, as we learnt last episode, met the house’s original owner in an insane asylum. The two discuss the pain of losing a child, and Poppy describes in vivid detail a dream in which she killed her own child. It’s implied that this ‘dream’ Poppy speaks of may have actually been real. She attempts to manipulate Olivia into violent action against the twins (thereby attempting to ‘save’ them from the darkness of the outside world.) This is when Olivia wakes up with a knife to her husband’s throat.
In another particularly disturbing scene, Olivia speaks to the twins before bed and Nell asks, “what if I dream that you kill me?” Luke follows this with, “and what if I’m so sad and scared of the dark that I put poison in me?” Nell continues with an eerie premonition – “you send us out there to the dark and the dark gets us – a piece at a time, over years and years and years until I’m on a silver table… and Luke is cold and dead on the floor with a needle in his arm, and it was you that killed us because you sent us out there in the dark.” When Nell asks “would you wake us up from a dream like that?” Olivia replies, “of course.” Steve walks in and interrupts her, and the twins aren’t actually there. This vision gives us many answers about Olivia’s mindset at the time. Her visions all indicated that her children needed saving from the pain and darkness in their futures, which is an idea Olivia becomes obsessed with moving forwards.
She bumps up her trip to see her sister out of fear for her mental state, but lies to the family, and simply takes a cab to the nearby motel instead. In a nice piece of foreshadowing, the husband discovers the mould killer has been ineffective on the storm-damaged walls, which had regrown. That night, Olivia takes a cab back to the house. Shirley finds her in the kitchen and notices that something is off. Olivia visits the twins and discovers Luke’s ‘imaginary friend’ Abigail is with them. Olivia invites the three of them to have a tea party with her, and she takes them through into the room with the red door, which lies open. Shirley wakes their father out of concern, and he finds the mould-killer in the kitchen where Olivia made the tea and assumes the worst. He finds the twins beds empty and runs to the room with the red door.
Abigail drinks the tea and starts choking, and Olivia maintains the belief that she’s freeing them from a life of pain. Hugh runs into the room, grabbing his wife by the neck and pushing her against the wall when she objects to him stopping the twins from drinking. This aligns with the injuries on the police report that lead Steve to believe Hugh may have been abusive. When the mother wakes up, most of the children are already in the car. She makes her way to Steve’s room, who Hugh has gone to rescue. Poppy materialises once more, telling Olivia that her husband wants to take the kids away from her into the darkness. Olivia twists the door handle around – which we saw from Steve’s perspective in the first episode – but another ghost distracts her, telling her that the Poppy is lying. When the mother moves away from the door, Hugh escapes with Steve.
When they drive away, Olivia returns to Abigail’s body. Abigail appears as a ghost, and Olivia follows her up the spiral staircase, where Poppy appears once more. Poppy convinces Olivia that she’s dreaming and that when she wakes up, the children will be asleep in their beds. In an attempt to wake up, Olivia jumps. In one final blow to my fragile heart, the episode cuts to the scene where the family first moved into the house, and Olivia insists that her husband must go on (upstairs) without her.
Once again this was an incredible episode, and in no way do I feel that the backstory/reasoning behind the spooky events (as revealed so far) has ruined the show – as I so often feel in horrors.
Victoria Pedretti in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
Onto the finale, “Silence Lay Steadily.” This last episode wasn’t my favourite episode, but that’s not to say I wasn’t impressed. As I addressed in my last review, it’s no easy feat to provide a satisfying conclusion to a horror story. Somehow, this episode managed to wrap up most of the loose ends in an interesting, emotional final hurrah, that gives each character enough screen time to say a proper farewell. The episode provides answers to enough of the remaining mysteries to make all the buildup worthwhile, but it doesn’t drown the audience in too much detail to the point where the show simply isn’t scary anymore. To accomplish all that in an hour of quality television is impressive.
The episode starts with the scene from episode one where Shirley and Nell try to unlock the red door, but this time, we also get to see that Theo was on the other side. She can hear them, but they can’t hear her. This hints at a revelation that occurs later in the episode. We then see Steve with his wife, who is somehow pregnant. Steve is struggling to write a sequel to Hill House, retelling this season’s modern-day timeline – he is up to the part of the story where he and his father arrive at the house looking for Luke. We then follow Steve and Hugh back at that time, climbing up the spiral staircase to the room with the red door, which is locked. When his father turns away, Steve sees the door open, and Luke is inside on the ground. Steve runs through the door and it slams shut behind him.
When Steve is writing the second book, his wife mentions that Luke had died – which was very mean of the show’s writers. Steve says he doesn’t remember what happened after the door closed, that he doesn’t remember getting out of the house or reconciling with his wife or how she got pregnant. Steve realises his wife and everything he’s seeing isn’t real, that he’s actually in the room with the red door. Nicely done writers, you had me fooled for a second. Luke is trapped in a similar dream state to Steve, back in the events of episode four. This is a different version where the girl he went after came back for him. She tries to convince Luke to take drugs with her and he starts to realise something is wrong. Nell appears, pulling him out of the vision in time for him to wake up and see Steve enter the room.
Shirley and Theo enter the house and they both have similar visions. Theo’s depicts her telling her lover about a time her mother had spanked her for throwing a rock through a greenhouse window. She puts on her gloves but she doesn’t remember why, and she doesn’t feel anything when she touches the woman’s skin. Eventually, Nell pulls her out of it and she wakes up. Shirley’s vision is different, revealing new information that had only been hinted about throughout the season – that years ago, she had cheated on her husband with a man she met in a bar.
When the girls wake up, the siblings are all together in the red room and they attempt to resuscitate Luke, to no avail. Luke wakes up in the red room to see his mother, along with a young Nell and Abigail sitting at the table as they did during the tea party. Olivia asks him to join them, but the young Nell warns him not to. Luke tells his mother he doesn’t want to be dead, but Olivia insists that he had been knocking on the red door for years – thus knocking on the door to his own death. Nice metaphor. Nell eventually breaks through and Luke wakes up to see Steve and Theo struggling to open the red door.
The siblings all see the same apparition of Nell, who confirms Shirley’s suspicions that they’d all been in the room before. She describes the room as being the ‘stomach’ of the house, revealing that it had been Theo’s dance studio, her own toy room, Olivia’s reading room, Steve’s gaming room, the family room for Shirley and a tree house for Luke. The siblings use this opportunity to apologise to Nell and say their goodbyes. It’s one of the episodes more touching scenes, but Nell assures them that she’s not dead, that pieces of her are still scattered throughout their lives.
Hugh wakes up to a vision of a decaying Poppy. She threatens him but is stopped and dismissed by Olivia. The parents speak, and Olivia asks him what he was doing all that time away, and he responds, “I was holding the door closed” because he knew “there were monsters on the other side that wanted the rest of [their] family.” Olivia argues the true monsters are the ones in the outside world. She still blames him for taking the children from her, and for their suffering. She insists, “this is our forever house, it always was” and that they would always be safe in it. He asks her to open the red door and to let them go out into the world. She refuses, as she’d be left alone. He offers to stay there with her, as long as she opens the door. She finally agrees, and the children are able to escape.
Steven remains behind with Hugh, who has something more he wishes to reveal. The two observe the scene where Hugh found Olivia dead all those years ago. It turns out the caretakers were there that night, as their daughter had snuck out of her bed. Their daughter is revealed to be Abigail, and they find her dead body on the floor. Abigail’s ghost appears, and Hugh also sees Olivia’s ghost materialise by her body. The caretakes talk Hugh out of burning the house down, saying they would keep Abigail’s death a secret as long as he let them stay on as sole caretakers of the house. After these revelations, Steve and Hugh apologise to each other for the secrets they kept. Hugh says goodbye, leaving the house to Steve as he joins Olivia and Nell in the red room.
In the final scenes, Steve apologies to his wife, and the two reconcile. Shirley tells her husband about the time she cheated on him in hopes that the two can move forward. Theo moves out of Shirley’s house with the help of the girl she’s been seeing, and she throws out her gloves, choosing instead to feel. We see Luke celebrate two years of being clean, and in the background, we hear Steve’s narration of what we can assume is the second book in the making. The caretakers return to Hill House on their deathbeds to be with Abigail, and everything is tied up in a neat little bundle.
The finale didn’t delve too deep into the mechanics of the house, which I actually like. It’s implied that the house feeds on its inhabitants somehow, collecting them as ghosts. It doesn’t explain how this began, simply choosing to focus on the Crain family and their emotional connections, as they were the real draw to the show in the first place. Perhaps they’ll delve into how the house works more in the next season – if there is a next season.
It’s hard to tell how they would proceed with a second season, but there have been talks about potentially exploring other familys’ experiences with Hill House. Creator, Mike Flanagan, released a recent statement stating that he doesn’t feel the need to revisit the Crain family, as he wants to “remember them the way [they] left them, and leave them to their lives.” In some ways this is disappointing; I’ve grown quite attached to these characters over the course of the season, so of course it would be nice to see more of them. But, like Flanagan, I’m perfectly happy to leave them here, safe in the knowledge that the worst of their troubles are behind them.
Another year, another onslaught of cheesy Netflix Christmas films – now this is a tradition I could get used to. Anyone who thinks November is too early to start watching Christmas movies can fight me personally – and yes, that is my professional opinion. But all that aside, let’s get on to the films.
The Holiday Calendar
Kat Graham and Ron Cephas Jones in The Holiday Calendar (2018)
The Holiday Calendar was a solid start for Netflix’s Christmas season, with a good balance of cheesy-goodness, mixed with a heart-warming story that makes for a genuinely decent film.
The film tells the story of a struggling photographer who’s lost her spark, journeying towards finding love and passion once more. Her dissatisfaction with life is clear from the start of the film when a friend of hers returns to town after travelling the world and taking photos. Such a thing Is a distant dream for Abby, who takes photos of children meeting Santa throughout the holiday season. She dreams of opening up her own studio in a building that she can’t afford to lease, and her discussions with her friend about his success only remind her frustrations with her own career.
However, things start to change when Abby’s grandfather, played by This is Us’s Ron Cephas Jones, gives her a Christmas calendar that had once belonged to Abby’s grandmother. Each day leading up to Christmas, a new door of the calendar opens, revealing a toy that somehow predicts Abby’s day.
On the first day, the calendar opens to a pair of toy boot. Later in the day, Abby’s photography friend, Josh, gives her a pair of boots from Italy. Whilst Abby originally chalks this up to a coincidence, she starts to suspect there is something else going on when a similar thing happens on the second day. She finds a Christmas tree toy in the calendar on this second day, and she later gets into a road accident in which a Christmas tree falls of the roof of a car driving by. The car’s driver is immediately likeable and the two share an undeniable chemistry. The guy seemingly falls in love with her after she insults him a couple of times – now that’s the dream. Abby runs into dream-guy again on the third day, on which she finds out he has a daughter (who’s dressed in a nutcracker costume similar to the nutcracker toy she received from the calendar that day). Once again, Abby and dream-guy have a chemistry-laden conversation.
It quickly becomes clear that Abby’s boot-gifting photography friend is secretly in love with her, and a full-fledged love triangle begins to unfold. The fourth day predicts a near-fatal candy cade incident that once again puts her in the path of dream-guy, (no I don’t remember his name) who just happens to be a doctor. He asks her out for dinner, and two continue to go on more and more elaborate dates planned by dream-guy, with the calendar continuing to predict details about each one. She starts to wish she and dream-guy could have a deeper connection, and her attention begins to stray towards her friend instead.
Dream-guy turns out to be not such a dream, making this the most realistic Christmas film I’ve seen in a while. The film gets a little confusing after that. It loses its rhythm a bit and struggles to balance its prioritisation of Abby’s career aspirations with her love life. Abby and her photography friend grow closer, but they lack the chemistry that the film spent so much time developing between Abby and dream-guy. Still, dream-guy is enough of an asshole to make me root for Abby’s friend. The friend at least is a total sweetheart who really cares about her – he just doesn’t have the kind of chemistry with Abby that makes for a great rom-com. Instead, we end up with a good movie, but a fairly mediocre rom-com.
As a whole, this movie is actually pretty decent. Both the acting and the story itself (although cheesy) are surprisingly good, and it’s definitely worth a watch, but I’ll admit it didn’t fill me with the same sense of joy that this next film did…
The Princess Switch
Vanessa Hudgens in The Princess Switch (2018)
If you’re looking for quality filmmaking you’d be better off watching The Holiday Calendar, but if you’re looking for the pinnacle of cheesy romance clichés, then this is the film for you. Basically, a baker and a dutchess – who happen to be identical – run into each other and decide to switch lives, and the two both start to fall in love with someone in the other person’s life. The Princess Switch is silly as you would imagine, but it’s relentlessly sweet and wonderfully rewatchable. Last years A Christmas Prince still holds the top spot in my heart for so-bad-its-good Christmas films, but this one came pretty close.
The premise is that a baker travels to Belgravia with her sous chef and his daughter, to enter an elite Christmas baking competition. This, of course, is where the baker, Stacy, runs into the Duchess of Montenaro, Margaret. Upon realising how similar they look, Margaret pitches the idea of switching places for a few days whilst her fiancé, Prince Edward, is away on a business trip. Stacy agrees because she’s sick of people telling her she needs to be more spontaneous.
During the two days in which they are switched, Stacy starts to fall in love with the prince, Edward, who cancels the business trip he had planned because he wants to get to know the duchess better before they get married. Edward is sweet and charming and he shares Stacy’s love of order and responsibility. Stacy gets herself into many a hilarious situation – most notably where she vaults over a horse in an attempt to mount it. She somehow gets away with blaming most of her suspicious behaviours on cultural differences between Belgravia and Montenaro, which becomes increasingly funny throughout the film. For some reason, the prince buys her act, and the two become closer over discussions about palace politics, in which Edward finds Stacy to be refreshingly opinionated.
While Stacy spends time with the prince, Margaret has a few days of freedom with Stacy’s friend and sous chef, Kevin, and his daughter, Olivia. Olivia quickly detects their ruse when Margaret bluffs her way through their secret handshake. She keeps their secret when she discovers Stacy had asked Margaret to help Olivia get into an elite ballet summer program, jumping at the chance to spend time with royalty. Kevin, on the other hand, remains oblivious to the switch. He is pleasantly surprised to see his close friend throw out Stacy’s tightly-packed itinerary in favour of having some spontaneous fun. Margaret’s laid-back attitude confuses him, and he starts to think that there may be potential for romance between them that he hadn’t seen before.
It’s not hard to imagine how the film plays out from there. Vanessa Hudgens has incredible chemistry with both of her characters’ love interests, elevating the film from your average rom-com into the perfect romantic cliché. The awkward situations Margaret and Stacy find themselves in throughout the film are genuinely funny, and Kevin and Edward’s adorably confused reactions are even better. The Princess Switch is by no means a cinematic masterpiece, but it’s relentless sweet, full of Christmas spirit and must-watch for fans of romantic comedy.
The Christmas Chronicles
Kurt Russell, Darby Camp, and Judah Lewis in The Christmas Chronicles (2018)
The other two films were probably best suited for a girl’s night, but The Christmas Chronicles is more of a classic Christmas film for all the family. It’s definitely the best quality film out of the three, but that doesn’t change the fact it’s my least favourite – but I’m a total sucker for rom-coms so I suppose that makes me biased.
The film focused on a pair of siblings whose family is suffering from the recent loss of their father. The youngest is a girl called Kate, a firm believer in Santa, who records her older brother, Teddy, driving a stolen car with his friends. She uses this as blackmail to convince her brother to help her capture footage of Santa – who the brother decidedly doesn’t believe in. The plan turns out to be a success, with the two observing both Santa and his reindeer on Christmas Eve, to the brother’s complete surprise. They hide in Santa’s sleigh whilst he delivers presents to the street, and he drives off without noticing them.
This leads to a pretty bumpy landing when Santa receives the shock of his life mid-flight, losing his hat and reindeer in the process. The children persuade him to let them help him find his hat and reindeer, (and hence ‘save Christmas’) with the hat apparently being the source of all of Santa’s powers.
The Christmas Chronicles’s version of Santa is notably snarky and generally edgier than your average depiction. He takes the children into a bar where he meets Wendy, played by Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s Vella Lovell, and he demonstrates his ability to recall details from just about anyone’s childhood. He attempts to use this ability to convince the people in the bar to help him, to which they are all refuse (and are sufficiently freaked out). This starts a bit of a brawl. Someone calls the police, which prompts Teddy to suggest they steal a car and get out of there. Santa agrees, partially because the car had already been stolen by a guy at the bar, but mostly because it was a very nice car – which paints a pretty good picture of this Santa’s priorities.
The three begin tracking down the reindeer, and Kate gets separated from the others when the police start chasing after them. She works on winning over the reindeer’s trust, whilst Teddy and Santa distract the officers. Santa attempts to win over the officers to no avail and is saved by the horde of reindeer running towards them, at Kate’s instruction. Kate manages to rescue Teddy, but Santa gets left behind with the police. The two fly away on the backs of the reindeer, whilst Santa gets thrown in jail.
The rest of the film descends into an enjoyable enough action comedy, featuring a jazzy cellblock musical number with Santa at its forefront. (Yes, you heard me). The siblings become closer throughout the film, giving their poor mother the fright of her life when she sees them hugging towards the end of the film. It’s a solid Christmas movie, but it’s nothing revolutionary. They try to switch up the usual clichés by making Santa a little more laidback, but when it comes down to it, this is still just another movie about saving Christmas and the importance of family. If you’re just looking for a cute film to get you in the mood for Christmas, then this is a pretty good one.
To wrap this all up, I’d say Netflix has done a good job overall getting me into the mood for Christmas. These are three solid films, all with an array of strengths and weaknesses that may or may not make them worth watching, depending on what you’re looking for in a Christmas movie. There’s still more to come from Netflix’s bout of seasonal offerings. A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding is set to come out on November 30th, and I for one can’t wait to see the wonderful disaster this film is bound to be.
The Daily Show presenter, Trevor Noah, released his Netflix comedy special, Son of Patricia earlier this week, and it is well worth a watch. The show is ever-entertaining, filled to the brim with insightful anecdotes about tacos, snakes and racism. Noah is a charming performer and expert storyteller, with a calm confidence and a powerful stage presence.
Son of Patricia balances its political conversation with some lighter material, and it’s all equally hilarious. Noah quickly won me over, with an early anecdote expressing his (extremely valid) frustration with the popularity of camping. He plays a confused tourist to the concept of living in harsh conditions for fun – a role he often assumes throughout the show. Noah uses this fresh, yet logical perspective to draw attention to small absurdities in everyday life.
The highlight of the show was Noah’s retelling of his visit to a snake whisperer’s performance in Bali. Maybe it was just because I related to Noah’s realistic amount of caution around snakes (which really shouldn’t be such a weird thing). Noah, being the intelligent person he is, ensured he remained a considerable distance away from the snakes, despite being mocked for his (understandable) fear by the French father and son next to him in the crowd. Noah cleverly draws in the audience as the story builds, showcasing his expertise in the art of effective storytelling. He held me captive right up until the tale’s oh-so-satisfying confusion, in which his fears proved to be completely valid. (Although I’m not sure whether I appreciated that my own fear of snakes was also completely validated. In fact, my fears are now stronger than ever – thanks Trevor.)
Noah’s South African perspective shines throughout the show, as he details his experiences in the US as a foreigner. He presents himself as a newcomer to American customs, most notably in his segment on his first experience with tacos. The comedy is at its strongest when what should have been an ordinary experience is completely turned on its head throughout a series of simple misunderstandings. Not only does this build to a hilariously disastrous climax, but Noah weaves in a few jabs about immigration along the way – specifically about immigrant cuisine. He points out how possessive American culture can be when it comes to its claim on foreign food, stipulating, “I feel like there should be a rule in America that says you can hate immigrants all you want, but if you do, you don’t get to eat their food.” It’s a simple notion, but he hits the nail on the head, creating a perfect analogy for a much bigger issue.
Noah’s politics are never forceful or overly-aggressive. He is merely an observer, cleverly presenting his own experiences with prejudice in a light-hearted manner and leaving the rest for the audience to interpret as they choose. The biggest laughs (from both myself and the live audience) were throughout the segment on Trump’s wall. Noah doesn’t outright attack Trump’s beliefs, he just points out the inconsistencies in his designs and strategies. Noah further stipulates how others could potentially react or even manipulate Trump in response, once again striking a perfect balance between political relevance and sheer hilarity.
Son of Patricia concludes with some final anecdotes about Noah’s mother, Patricia, along with his recent experience with being called the ‘n’ word – which is a surprisingly insightful story. In South African, the slur has an entirely different meaning, and Noah once again demonstrates how a foreign perspective can allow one to cut through to the true nature of an issue.
Noah’s comedy is light-hearted enough to be effortlessly entertaining and topical enough for viewers to take something away from the experience. Son of Patricia demonstrates an expert ability to perform and tell stories in a wonderfully logical fashion. Noah’s intellectual brand of humour is part of an innovative wave of comedy that’s attracting new audiences to the genre. I’m sure fans – new and old – will be quickly queuing up for whatever Noah has in store for the world next – I know I am.
Carla Gugino, Henry Thomas, and Violet McGraw in The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
I originally planned to save my The Haunting of Hill House review for after I had finished the entirety of season one, but I a) have been progressing through the show far slower than initially expected, (hence why this review is coming out a month after the release of the series) and b) have a lot of thoughts I already want to discuss, so here I am.
I’ll preface this by saying I’m not a fan of horror, not just because the genre terrifies me, but also because I rarely find myself satisfied with how they play out in the end. The build-up is always better than the conclusion. It’s very rare that the spooky supernatural events taking place can be thwarted in a logical manner, or in a manner that allows them to retain their ‘scary’ factor. As a result, I tend to avoid the genre as a whole (though I am partial to a good psychological thriller now and then.)
Every rule has its exceptions, and The Haunting of Hill House might just be one of them. Not only is it genuinely scary, but the show has at its foundation something most horrors lack – a strong emotional centre that gives the audiences something to actually root for. On top of this, the show is (so far at least) more of an exploration of the characters’ experiences with the supernatural, rather than them attempting to destroy it somehow or give it a logical explanation when one doesn’t exist. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to learn more about the house’s history, especially if there is some sort of link between all the spooky happenings. That being said, delving too deep into the mechanics of something so abstract does tend to kill it for me; I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
The family relationships in the show are complex and compelling – almost on par with This Is Us. The first five episodes are masterfully designed, with a focus on one main character each episode. This ensures the extent of the story doesn’t completely overwhelm the viewer, and it allows for some satisfying ‘aHAH’ moments when you start to understand where all the different events link up in each timeline. The slower pacing allows room to delve into each of the characters’ minds on a much deeper level than they might have otherwise.
I’ll admit the first episode, “Steven Sees A Ghost” didn’t hook me – although I’m not sure I gave the episode the chance it deserved. I had heard good things about the show and I wanted something spooky to watch on Halloween, so I gave it a shot. I was pretty distracted at the time and I had to stop watching about three-quarters of the way through the episode. I didn’t feel the need to come back to the show until about a week later. It hadn’t stood out to me as anything all that special, but when I returned to the show I was glad to discover just how wrong I had been. I did rewatch the first episode so I could give it a fair review, and I really enjoyed it on the second viewing. Of course, I now understand more of what was actually going on, which added to the experience. It certainly makes for an interesting hour of television, especially compared to your average pilot – and now that I was paying more attention, I could see that. However, the first episode definitely has an overwhelming amount of characters and detail to keep track of on a first viewing.
In the second episode, “Open Casket,” I started to understand how complex the show really is. The switch in perspectives was a refreshing change. The first episode put Steve at its forefront, but it spent too much time introducing all the other characters for viewers to become particularly invested in him. This episode however, fully zeroed in on oldest daughter, Shirley, finally giving the viewer enough time to get the know one of the characters in detail. I personally wouldn’t find the show half as compelling if it were focusing on one particular child the whole way through; such a large part of the show’s intrigue stems from getting to know each character and their personal experiences with the supernatural. The flashbacks of Shirley’s childhood in episode two were equally intriguing and disturbing, and definitely gave me a taste of the direction the show would be heading. The episode also introduces the idea that the house is like a human being. The children’s mother explains the concept to a young Shirley in detail, creating a sense that it’s not just ghosts stirring up trouble; it might just be the house itself – something a few of the Crain children appear convinced of. Shirley and Steven are certainly the more realistic out of the children, both living fairly regular lives in comparison to the others. The decision to put their episodes first was smart – allowing viewers to gradually ease themselves into the more dramatic supernatural events to come. However, Shirley’s practicality is almost more shocking than the ghosts at times. The scene where she embalms Nell herself still stands out to me as one of the most disturbing scenes in the show so far, but it is also one of the most touching scenes. It paints a perfect picture of Shirley’s strength, sense of overwhelming responsibility, and the tremendous amount she is willing to sacrifice to ensure the best for her family.
The third episode hooked me. “Touch” revolves around Theo, who I found to be the most interesting of the three main characters featured so far. She had the most obvious ‘powers’ of the group, and I tend to enjoy weird/loner kid archetype. I can definitely relate to her deflective self-defence mechanisms, and I have a soft spot for LGBT characters, so I was destined to love her from the start. The episode itself tells a compelling self-contained narrative of Theo using her powers to help one of her patients – another example of the real-life events being somehow more disturbing than the children’s supernatural memories. “Touch” is one of the more emotional episodes of the season so far. You couldn’t help but feel Theo’s pain and grief when she touches Nell’s body. The sheer thought of it would have been enough to disturb me, but Theo’s pained reaction followed by a cut to her drinking her sorrows away sealed the deal. I have to admit, it wasn’t until this episode that I was really able to keep track of all the characters – sue me, I struggled to tell the difference between the four brunette white ladies (and three of their childhood counterparts). It took me a while, but I got there in the end. The episode confirms that the children’s mother has some sort of supernatural ability. In the scene where she gives Theo her gloves, she tells her the women in the family are often ‘sensitive.’ This seems to be setting up more mystery to come surrounding her eventual ‘suicide.’
The fourth episode, “The Twin Thing,” wasn’t the most memorable episode, but it progressed the story well enough and explored a new dimension of the children’s relationships as adults. The episode takes a more realistic turn – mostly focusing on Luke’s journey in rehab. Before watching this episode, all I knew about Luke was that he’s a drug addict. After watching this episode, that’s still all I know about him really, but hey – it was still nice to see his side of the story. At least he’s a nice drug addict who is sincerely trying to do better – and boy has he seen some shit. The man in the bowler hat is my favourite ghost so far. (Yes, I have a favourite ghost). The scene where Luke first sees him is a masterclass in tension manipulation. It had me hooked – absolutely terrified at first, and then laughing out loud out of sheer relief when the ghost took the bowler hat, before reducing me to a state of terror once again when the ghost reached out to him. “The Twin Thing” was a good episode, with a great ending. I just wish it gave more of an indication as to why Luke turned to drugs in the first place. Was he just more affected by his experiences with the supernatural than the others? He doesn’t have Steven’s denial, or Theo’s deflection, or Shirley’s sense of responsibility, so I guess it makes sense that he’d turn to drugs to help him cope, but I’d have still liked to have seen this aspect explored more in the episode itself.
Episode five, “The Bent-Neck Lady” was… really disturbing? Sure, it’s an absolutely incredible episode, but it was also… a lot. I’m an adult and I had nightmares. To be completely honest, I have been half-dreading watching the next episode. That being said, we have already established I scare pretty easy. The episode was especially difficult to watch, knowing how it had to end. Up until this point, there really wasn’t enough information about Nell to have any real emotional attachment to her character, but “The Bent-Neck Lady” changed that. The episode is wonderfully cruel, feeding the viewer with montages of happiness and love in Nell’s life, juxtaposed with her grief and struggles in therapy. The ending, in particular, is truly horrifying. Even though I knew it was coming, Nell’s pure joy at seeing her family and her husband again made the scene more emotional than I could have possibly imagined. It’s definitely the best episode of the show so far – wonderfully shot and edited, and I just couldn’t look away (even when I wanted to). The first four episodes all felt like they were leading up to this one and so I’m not sure what to expect from the show next. I imagine the next big question will be what really happened to their mother.
If you’ve heard of The Haunting of Hill House, you probably don’t need me to tell you it’s amazing. If for some reason you haven’t already seen it, then it’s definitely worth a watch. However, I might warn those who are sensitive to horror and issues surrounding suicide against it, as it can be a lot to handle at times. If you’re looking for cheap thrills, then this isn’t it (although it’s given my poor dogs a fright a few times now.) If you’re looking for a nuanced family drama with a healthy dosage of insidious supernatural mystery, then The Haunting of Hill House is where it’s at.
Alright, review over. On to episode six. Thoughts and prayers would be much appreciated.