Matthew eats… Baby Reindeer

Every so often a programme comes along that everyone instantly talks about. The days of streaming services have made this a rarer phenomenon, but it still happens. The last time was Tiger King, which was aided by the pandemic and no one had anything better to do. I can’t really think of another example that came along since then.

Until now, when Baby Reindeer came along. There doesn’t seem to be a day where there isn’t a new article or think-piece about it. First they came to praise, then they came to critique it, and of course everybody had their own ‘experiences’ of what the character went through. Oh, and the explosion of online detectives trying to find the real life versions of the character.

For those of you still unfamiliar with the plot, it follows Donny, a failing comedian working as a barman. After an act of kindness to a stranger he finds himself stalked by them. This in turn sees the return of a repressed trauma of when he was sexually abused by an elder man and his subsequent spiral. It’s labelled as dark comedy, and although there is something of that here it is very much a small speck.

It is not an easy watch. In fact, I actively seek something lighter to follow it up with. But it is so gripping. Richard Gadd, writer and lead actor, is captivating. Of course it helps it is based on a true story, but that doesn’t detract from his performance. Jessica Gunning is equally brilliant as deranged stalker Martha. And as for the episode where we see him fall victim to an older man, well it is something that won’t leave you.

Of course there is now the controversy as to whether Gadd should have be so honest about it being based on a true story. Online sleuths have been their worst selves in trying to track down the real people. But at the same time it is undeniable this hits harder knowing it really happened.

One thought that does bubble up though is that of the issue of gender here. If it was a woman being stalked by a man, would we be debating how much the victim led them on? Gadd is open about the mistakes he made, but is he trying to be chivalrous? It’s like at times he is apologising for her, blaming himself more than her.

Anyway, it’s unlikely you will see a more gripping drama this year. Just don’t go to bed on it.

Matthew eats… American Horror Story: Freak Show

I’m opening with a confession. I didn’t expect to be writing this review just yet. I thought I’d finish American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace first. But four episodes in and it was just too dark. It is not Friday night fare. I will finish it, but in a different time slot.

So American Horror Story: Freak Show rode to the rescue. It might sound odd as a choice considering how I have just spoken about not wanting anything to dark. But AHS at least gives a dash of camp fun in among the bloodshed. Even some dark humour as well. There is something to break it up and preventing an unrelenting tone.

The plot of this season of the franchise focuses on the freak show ran by wannabe star Elsa Mars (Jessica Lange in a swansong performance). She hires suspected murderers Dot and Bette, siamese twins, to draw in the punters to her show, but is upstaged by them. Hunting for the murderers are the cops, and when one gets too close he is killed by another of the freaks. Oh, and there is a psycho clown killing and kidnapping people. Throw in a strongman who is also on the run from the law and you have essentially a circus of criminals.

You may be wondering where the fun is. Well, for a start Lange plays Elsa perfectly. Still dreaming but jaded, there is a sharp wit to her masking a sadness. The back and forth between the very different twins is also playfully caustic. True, it lacks the out-and-out dark humour of Coven or Apocalypse. But then we are dealing with a very different beast.

The only true darkness is in the Twisty plotline and to a certain degree the Del one. Obviously the threads will wax and wane throughout the season, but I hope they don’t come to dominate over other, more well-rounded stories. Let us see Elsa take centre stage as much as possible.

It’s because of my aversion to constant misery I will avoid some seasons. Asylum may be the most-highly regarded, but I still don’t see a reason to experiment with it. For now Freak Show fits just fine.

Matthew eats… Snowpiercer

It’s strange that as we feel like we are increasingly heading for destruction of humanity, that we are fascinated with fictional worlds where that is played out. Surely we long for escapism, a feeling that everything will be ok, that good is still more powerful, utopia more in reach than dystopia. Yet everywhere you turn, it is the sadness that pulls us in.

Snowpiercer is part of this. Set in the near future, it follows a train that travels the globe following the Big Freeze, a bodged attempt to deal with global warming through geothermal engineering. The train is divided by classes, from the elite in first class, to the ‘tail’ essentially a slum. The residents of this plan revolts to take over the train, but have so far failed, leading to brutal clampdowns. Then a murder in Third Class sees a former homicide detective be recruited from the ‘tail’ to solve it.

Essentially, the two plots interest with each other, and thankfully don’t quite fall into the trap of competing. Our detective uses his opportunity of solving the crime to develop schematics of the train to aid the next revolt. And there is the obligatory conspiracy theories of just who is in Mr Wilford, the train’s inventor and why does this murder matter so much. So the plot works.

This is vital, because it is certainly not a barrel of laughs. We have cannibalism, torture and a whole host of nastiness in general. But it is the intrigue that balances that out. Come for the shock value, stay for the mystery.

My one gripe is thought that once again we have anybody who is remotely successful in life being written as someone who is awful. Why is First Class so full of mean-spirited individuals who pulsate with snobbery and ingratitude? And why are the underclass some kind of anti-heroes? Yes, I know there are stark divisions in the real world, but can’t we have a nice rich person in these programmes just once?

For now though, I’m ignoring that and focusing on everything else. Although if someone could crack a smile, that would help. Let’s pretend we have some hope left.

Matthew eats… Unforgotten

A major cast change is always a gamble. How do you handle one or more of your leads going? Glee struggled with getting us to love newer castmates. Death In Paradise meanwhile slips easily from one lead to another.

Unforgotten has had to find a similar success after killing of its lead in series four. Nicola Walker’s character was killed off in a random hit and run. Now Sinead Keenan come along to replace her. We are introduced to her facing a personal crisis because she is that classic female lead of someone who has worked too hard and her husband has had an affair. Poor women. The terrible men they marry either ditch them for being too dowdy or too bossy.

The problem is no matter how much her chippiness is explained, you still struggle to sympathise. Their is little hint of softness to her. She is borderline cruel to the rest of her team, expecting respect whilst also not being part of them. I know we are supposed to see her as someone with too much on her plate, but instead she comes across as someone who lashes out at others.

Of course, it is obvious where this will go. At some point her and her detective partner will unburden themselves to each other, team respect will be found, everything will be resolved. It’s all so obvious for a show that prides itself from being unusual.

And the case itself? It’s decent enough. We have our previously unidentified victim, four potential suspects (all of whom have their own tragic stories) etc. But because everything feels like it is about personal lives, the detection gets lost.

So yes, the case change needs work. The heart of what matters has been lost. Hopefully, with the new lead bedded in, the next series takes us back to this.

Matthew eats… American Crime Story: The Assassination of Giovanni Versace

Yes, I am aware that this is another review of a Ryan Murphy show. I am honestly not making this a stan account for him, or for the Drag Race franchise. But it is something new I have tried this week so this is the review you are getting.

American Crime Story always seems the less-obsessed over anthology series of Murphy’s. This feels unfair as I would say the quality control is much higher and, like Fued, has something more to say about the world we live in, even if the stories are set in the recent past.

The plot of this installment is pretty obvious from the title, in that it recounts the events leading up to and after the murder of Giovanni Versace. Like all good Murphy productions, this isn’t just about the victim or their family. Everyone gets explored, not least the killer Andrew Cunanan. It is well plotted and interesting, although the opening build to the murder could have been tightened (couldn’t Cunanan have been introduced at the point of the murder and his pre-actions spliced in elsewhere).

The acting is also for the most part great. Ricky Martin takes the ‘surprisingly good’ accolade and Edgar Ramirez plays Versace well. The standout though is Darren Criss as Cunanan, who plays the chameleon nature of the part to near perfection.

The only issue is surprisingly Penelope Cruz as Donatella Versace. There are two blockers. One is that she plays it a little too cold, and not in that glamourous icy way that someone like Jessica Lange brings to her roles. The other is diction. There is a whole section of dialogue I missed because the words were blurred, and not deliberately so. This is really something that could have been ironed.

But despite that it is still enjoyable. It has become my Friday night go to until I have enough alcohol to truly appreciate the campy drama of Drag Race. Yes, I might stan Murphy at times. But with shows like this, you can see why.

Matthew eats… Only Murders in the Building

My habit of being late to the bandwagon continues. In what feels like a lifetime after everyone else discovered it, I am not finally starting Only Murders in the Building. The question is though, is this one of those worth the wait, or a piece of over-hyped nonsense?

First, to the plot. Three strangers living in a New York apartment block after a fellow resident is murdered, which the police initially rule as suicide. Turns out they are all true crime obsessives, and decide to make their own podcast as they investigate the crime ‘live’. But they all have their own secrets, including a hidden past with the victim, financial problems and figures missing from their lives.

So, is it any good? Well, yes, very. The writing is sharp and witty, with a vein of humour that adds that sprinkle of something. All three of the central cast members (Steve Martin, Martin Short, Selena Gomez) bring something to the story. Having said that, I’m only two episodes in and I haven’t really seen much interplay between Short and Gomez, although this is bound to be fixed. And of course, the plot is gripping. It needs to be, this is very much the kind of show where that matters more than character studies.

Are there any drawbacks? Well, some of the scenes of introspection can sometimes jolt you out of the excitement of the plot. The change of pace is fine, but it very much feels designed to be a deliberate catch your breath moment rather than something that really adds anything. Or maybe these do matter further down the line.

In this case, I am definitely glad I jumped on the bandwagon. I can’t wait to solve the mystery and devour subsequent seasons.

Matthew eats… Beyond Paradise

The unqualified, and at times unexplained, success of cosy detective drama Death in Paradise was always ripe for a spin off. In fact, it seems nothing short of a surprise that it has taken over a decade for one to be forth coming. It is after all one of the network’s biggest bankers, which is perhaps embarrassing in some respects – having one of the most powerful drama departments in the television world and one of your biggest hits is something that could be made by any commercial rival.

But here we are, now with Beyond Paradise. Former lead Kris Marshall returns as the detective, having spent some years in London. Now it is off to the quiet seaside town of his wife’s childhood. Which of course, turns out not to be that quiet. It’s like Midsomer Murders pitched up at the seaside. Whether or not it trips over into the faintly ridiculous remains to be seen.

So yes, little town location – check. Now, the supporting cast. Well, it’s Devon, so some Doc Martin style – south-western yokels will work. Get a dim but well-meaning rookie officer (poor Dylan Llewellyn – all that Derry Girls and Big Boys kudos being leached off him). Put a grumpy late middle-aged woman on reception. Have a sidekick who is slightly too serious. Yep, every casting cliche is there.

None of this is a problem. They know the target audience for this and it gets lapped up. Not everyone wants crime dramas in dimly lit streets and violent deaths. And if you can wrap it up in 60 minutes, all to the good. I mean, with a bit more polish, I would barely be raising an eyebrow at this.

But it is the lack of polish that is the killer blow. For saying this is in a prime time slot, this is more reminiscent of the sort of cosy crime that sometimes goes out mid-afternoon. Death in Paradise looks like Chekov next to this. It is not some much comfort food, as an insubstantial ready meal pretending to be something more.

And finally, the tone. Yes, it is all breezy. But then we have Humprhey’s personal life, including his wife’s latest miscarriage and worries over an affair. It is these that put it rightfully in that 9pm window for viewing, yet are so at odds with the charm of everything else.

In short, Death in Paradise seems to have that magic that means it gets away with this approach that Beyond Paradise doesn’t. Perhaps it’s a time thing, or that with the exception of Marshall, the lead in it has always had a dash of vinegar in their spirit. Something isn’t quite right here. Maybe this is why a spin off was initially so slow to come.

Matthew eats… Evil

Christmas apart from my partner brings pluses and minuses. On the minus side, there is the obvious feeling of missing one of the key events of the year with a loved one. Lovely as it is to see family, you only realise how lonely you are without the one who means most to you until you have had five days without them, and no skype call can replace that.

On the plus side, I have been able to eat foods that are banned from our household, including baked beans, curry and gravy (although not at once). Furthermore, I can catch up on some of my programmes they would never watch. One of which is Evil. As unseasonable as it is, it is a relief to finally watch season three.

And boy, have they gone big this season. This is supernatural horror for the 21st century. Plotlines have included the scourge of social media apps in creating a possession epidemic, drones creating a ‘haunted’ highway and the internet being run by demons, hence the rise in cryptocurrency and disinformation.

The long-running stories have become darker as well. The seed planted in earlier seasons that Lexis, one of Kristen’s four children, is potentially demonic is proving a surprisingly minor hook. The fact that any other show would have made this the driving force shows the rich variety this show can play with. Instead, we have Kristen’s husband paralysed by her increasingly wicked mother and our chief villain Leland, Leland’s own entrapment as a pedophile by Kristen’s daughters and new regular character Sister Andrea being pursued by a demon of her own. Oh, and the Vatican is taking down demonic houses.

For all the darkness, it is still extremely witty. The script both moves at pace but allows for the slow burn. We are trusted to be smart enough in episode six to still be aware of why the toilet is making terrible noises because of a plot point in episode two without characters constantly referring back to ‘can you remember when…’.

What makes the horror here so powerful is the lack of gore. There is instead a psychological terror. And for all the talk of demons and devils, many of them are driven by human forces. Because although the show does suggest a supernatural source of evil, it is also very quick to demonstrate how human frailty maximises this – the devil wins because we choose to take the worst response to something.

I will not quite finish the season by the time me and my partner reunite, which will leave me itching for further revelations. But on the plus side, I will have them back.

Matthew eats… Feud

Thanks to perk with my partner’s bank account, we now have Disney+. This meant a lot of shows that were out of reach are now suddenly available. The back catalogue of American Horror Story is all there, sparing us the need to buy DVDs of the seasons we want to see. So is Feud, something my partner has wanted me to see after they loved it.

The show tells the story of the war between Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, two former queens of Hollywood who resent the fading of their stardom. They agree to join forces in the film version of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? However, what was supposed to unite them just divides them further and their bitter war with each other intensifies, to the glee of some and dismay of others.

I can see why my partner loves it. Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon are both astounding as the warring thespians. There is a coldness to them both through which their loathing seeps but also a brittleness, a sense that one more knock could break them, but only in private.They are trained in the art of surviving. In fact, the only roles that they cannot succeed at are those of wives and mothers.

In fact, the whole this is great. The plot is pacey but not dizzying. The script is smart. The documentary framing works, as it is lightly applied enough so that it helps tell the story but doesn’t detract from it.

At the centre though is perhaps on the great motif’s of Ryan Murphy’s work. There is a sense that both women will lose in the long term. Why? Because they fought each other, not the people around them. Imagine if they had really joined forces. Misogyny in the industry could have been toppled. But the world seeks to divide those on the outside. Even so, I cannot wait to see the rest.

Matthew eats… American Horror Story: Apocalypse

I normally watch things in a strict order. Season one, episode one first, right through to the end. It’s neat. It’s orderly. It’s what’s intended. It is why I haven’t bothered with the Marvel universe – story chronological order and release order should be the same.

But then comes American Horror Story, choosing to interlink stories across some seasons, forgetting them in others. A character in season two has their origin story in season four. Someone in season three makes a cameo in season five which appears to mean nothing until we get to season eight. In fact, it is arguably in season eight where any pretense that each season is standalone fully evaporates.

So, the plot. Nuclear wipeout leave a band of survivors (a mixture of the brilliant and the rich) in a fallout shelter. Episode one sees them adjust to strict conditions including diet and spare time under the watchful gaze of Miss Venable. By the end, a stranger has arrived. One who those who saw season one will know is Michael Langdon, the anti-christ.

So how do I feel after the first episode? Well, despite the horrors of nuclear winter, it is at least wittier than Murder House. I know from conversations with my partner that the witches from Coven return later in the season, which is only for the good. Of course, we are still at the stage of more questions than answers, but at least I care about the answers.

My only gripe is that I have the sinking feeling this is going to be a season that will pile everything into the end and possibly make a mess of the finale. Also, when you have taken us to the end of the world, what else can you do? The franchise obviously lives on but has it jumped the shark?

For now, I will let the threads unspool themselves though and wallow in Joan Collins being campy as ever against an otherwise slightly too dry and pithy cast. Never has nuclear been so fun.