It wouldn’t be fall without a few Ryan Murphy-produced shows, and he’s all over the place these months with the releases of American Sports History: Aaron Hernandez, Monsters: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendezand now grotesquea standalone horror story that garnered the most attention because it marked the acting debut of Travis Kelce (who does not appear in the two-episode series premiere). Somewhere between the camp American horror story franchise and the more grounded Murphy-Verse projects like Monster exists this tonally confused drama, a series that is almost certainly referred to as “American horror story hits Seven.” It contains so much of the thematic and narrative DNA of the David Fincher hit, but this kind of dark approach doesn’t exactly play to the strength of the Murphy brand, and results in a show that feels like it’s going to die after just two they get out of control episodes.

Niecy Nash, who won an Emmy for her work Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Storyreturns to the Murphy tableau as Detective Lois Tryon, who is going through a pretty difficult chapter in this thing called life. When she’s not drinking or caring for her comatose husband Marshall (Courtney B. Vance), she’s investigating a horrific new case. It begins with a call to an unimaginable scene in which a family of five has been brutally murdered and tortured in a way that most sociopaths would recoil from. Tryon later reveals that the Patriarch was cooked, cut, and fed to his own family before her death. No wonder there was a police officer puking on the flowers outside (which is perhaps the most Murphy-esque image in the series, a mix of the beautiful and the disgusting).

The premiere then reveals a little more about Lois’ personal life, including a daughter named Merritt (Raven Goodwin) who is trying to gain enough weight to appear on a reality TV show. Mom drinks, daughter eats and the family’s stabilizing force lies in the hospital bed. Every scene in the two-part premiere in which Lois visits Marshall seems disastrously atonal compared to the rest of the program, and these moments are the closest thing to camp. There we meet the crazy nurse Redd (Lesley Manville), a character who apparently came here from Murphy’s Rateda healthcare provider who could politely be described as offensive. In her first scene she talks about wiping her patient’s ass, and later she appears to “manipulate” him during a sponge bath. Despite Manville’s undeniable talent, these scenes are genuinely strange and likely portray Redd as a future victim, but they are awkwardly written and poorly paced, with the show seeming to straddle the most between camp and realism.

More effective is the introduction of a young nun named Sister Megan (series MVP Micaela Diamond), who becomes Tryon’s religious advisor when the case begins to reflect religious beliefs and ideas about sin. Megan is a true crime junkie in a nun’s costume, someone who is thrilled by the details of the case that Tryon unrealistically reveals. (In one part, she calls on Megan to essentially provide a dump of revelations on the way to a possible arrest, which is just one of the few points where any attempt at realism here fails.)

Sister Megan represents a form of modern religion in which a religious figure can not simply use a smartphone but drop the word “orgasmic” in a conversation with a priest. She notes that the family that was murdered believed in social justice and represented a more progressive branch of the church, which may have offended the murderer. Not only does she explain to Tryon the religious details of the crimes in these two episodes; She provides a balance to Tryon’s world-weariness, playing someone who seems positively thrilled by the crimes and their connection to a religious world at war with itself.

Of course, before the end of the first episode, another murder occurs: a few junkies are mutilated and pinned to the wall like crucifixes so that the police can discover them. There is again a mysterious liquid at the crime scene, which later turns out to be sulfur dioxide, also known as sulfur. How very John Doe.

The second episode begins with a look back at happier days in the Tryon family… well, hardly happier. Merritt begins her gluttonous reality TV show campaign while Lois is already a full-time alcoholic. In this den of everyday sin, the writers reveal that Marshall had an affair shortly before he fell into a coma. Mixing gluttony, addiction, pride (trying to get on reality TV) and infidelity in one of the few domestic scenes doesn’t seem accidental, as this show is about sin, atonement and religious violence.



Just as it seems grotesque is just about to build thematic momentum, the common problem of Murphy shows begins: the wheel spins toward obvious conclusions. Tryon thinks that the killer may be connected to the university where the cannibalized father worked, but then what would be the connection to the trap house? The proceedings take on a granular level of investigative detail that this show simply has no interest in developing. Even Sister Megan basically mocks Detective Tryon’s half-hearted investigation, pointing out that she needs to look at this all in more biblical, comprehensive terms. “To understand this monster, you have to reach ecstasy,” she says.

More effective is the introduction of a new priest (suspect?) named Father Charlie (Nicholas Chavez), who delivers a sermon about overconfidence and faith, bringing some of the show’s themes back to the forefront. Sister Megan finds herself drawn into the handsome man’s worldview and may not pay enough attention to lines like “I want to remove the cancer from their souls.” Hey, Suspect #1! And our suspicions are said to increase when we see what Father Charlie does in his free time, which includes self-flagellation after masturbating. Before that, Charlie and Megan prove to be real crime junkies, including a nod to Ed Gein, a little teaser for the next part of Monster. Megan’s favorite serial killer is a clever sleuth: Sister Mariam Soulakiotis, a Greek nun who is said to have murdered hundreds in her abbey. Is this the writers’ way of telling us to take a closer look at Megan herself?

The police catch a suspect, but when they arrive at his house they discover another brutal scene, this time with a survivor quoting Psalms on the way out. “The Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful man” leads Megan to theorize that the murderer believes in a hateful God. In the final moments, Lois brings a mystery box found at the crime scene to her daughter to solve – chain of evidence, lady! – and then we get one final gruesome tableau, this one with the bodies of a dozen homeless people arranged to look like this The Last Supper. It’s certainly an impressive image in a series that’s lacking them, and it reveals the name of this series’ madman: Grotesquerie. Is that you, Travis?!

Crazy observations

• • Even the end credits seem a bit muddled in this tonally propulsive show. Remember all these great things AHS Credit sequences? This is just a red background that quickly runs through the cast and crew like a half-hearted commitment.
• • The first episode contains many shots of food, highlighting the sin of gluttony in a way that feels like clever foreshadowing.
• • There is a muted, dark color palette here that adds elegance to the whole Monster as AHS feel.
• • There are words on the wall below the victims in the trap house. Most of them are hard to see, but the flashlight’s light covers up “dereliquisto,” which means “abandoned” in Latin, in case you’re curious.
• • Sister Megan says it is important that the murderer play Mozart’s Requiem on the night of the family murders because it is a song about death, including Mozart’s own. If you are interested, this is an interesting read about the origin and meaning of the famous piece.
• • Lois claims she has never seen her before Dateline. Don’t you think most cops have done it at least a few times? Just to compare techniques?
• • These episodes were directed by Max Winkler, who has become a reliable part of the Murphy-verse and directs the chapters The Guardian, American horror story, feudAnd Monster.
• • A series that leans heavily into the vernacular of true crime fiction makes no reference to the Chicago Ripper Crew, a group not as well-known as someone like Gein but who are absolutely terrifying. You can read more about their cannibalistic rituals Here.
• • Father Charlie concludes his sermon with a hymn called “There Is Power In Ihe Blood,” which he feels is important. It’s about how Jesus sacrificed himself to save us. Will Father Charlie do the same, or is he the one who leads the people to a “Calvary Flood Purification”?