IIt might seem strange to suggest that Grotesquerie, the latest show from the ubiquitous, never intentionally understated Ryan Murphy (who co-creates and co-writes this), is more depressing than his usual horror fodder. There are four highly theatrical massacres in the first two episodes alone, and the body count is so great that the body count may well outnumber the living, breathing cast. Still, it differs from many of his other projects, which tend to advocate spectacle for spectacle’s sake. This is clearly a struggle for a fuller narrative in the gothic horror films on display.

These horrors abound. Niecy Nash plays Lois Tryon, a no-nonsense, hard-drinking detective with a complicated family life – all the makings of a female TV cop. You can practically tell that “she sighs wearily” is in the script, though Nash shoulders her hackneyed cynicism with aplomb. Lois thinks she has seen everything until she is called to the scene of the first crime. A local university radiologist and nutritionist and her three children were horribly – and I mean horribly – massacred by a mysterious killer who left no trace of his identity but plenty of symbolic things. “If this isn’t a hate crime, I don’t know what is,” explains a junior police officer. “Hate against what?” asks Lois. “Everything“, he answers solemnly.

So this isn’t subtle, but Murphy rarely opts for subtlety. This is a state of the nation story where doomsday thinking takes center stage. There’s a sense of impending societal collapse, a theme explored in previous seasons of American Horror Story, but here it’s given theological and philosophical reinforcement. It examines fatalism and asks whether evil and vice are inherently human. A local homeless man in robes preaches that “the end is near.” Sister Megan (Micaela Diamond), a journalist, nun and true crime enthusiast, explains that cults are once again big business and leads Lois to the religious themes that tie all crimes together. She is, says Lois, “a cross between a sparrow and a Manson girl,” and she also has an overarching authorial voice. Amid “terrible news and catastrophe at every turn, everything now feels personal to everyone,” says Sister Megan, pointing to the decline of logic as a force for good.

Whether the series can get away with simultaneously disdaining murder hysteria as clickbait and true-crime voyeurism and the fact that it’s a Murphy-led show about a smart, creative mass murderer with flair remains to be seen. A terrible kind of destruction is reminiscent of recent war crimes; It turns out this was no coincidence, as Sister Megan associates the “atrocity” with “something that happens in places where there is no hope and no order.” Such hyperbole is in bad taste, and I’m not sure a divided modern America warrants comparison to a real war zone. But its manifestation of fear and terror in a world that feels unstable and competitive is effective. The fact that it opts for slow, creeping horror instead of jump scares – although there are a few of those too – makes it all the scarier.

Grotesquerie looks incredibly beautiful in its Gothic gloom. Onlookers are often paralyzed by the gruesomely staged crime scenes, silenced in horror, which is a more effective metaphor. Its weakness is not trusting this strong visual sense of self and instead resorting to clumsy presentation that undermines it. “Great. “A religious psychopath,” Lois says, as if the nun, the presence of sulfur, and the writing behind the corpses hanging on the wall like photographs didn’t make that clear.

One of the big topics of discussion before the release of Grotesquerie was the acting debut of American footballer and famous friend Travis Kelce, but they are clearly keeping their powder dry as there is no sign of him in the first two episodes. However, there is a hot, Elvis-like priest (Nicholas Chavez from “Monsters”) and Lesley Manville as Nurse Redd, a snarky, Ratched-style nurse who looks after Lois’ husband Marshall, who is in a coma. Watching Manville nail a few lines here is a masterstroke at keeping a straight face while conveying the truly absurd.

“Grotesque” burns slowly but is fascinating. Elsewhere it’s about reality TV, addiction, guns, faith and the mundanity of marriage. It may be too much all at once, and as is often the case with Murphy shows, he tries to find a balance between being genuinely provocative and shocking just because he can. Still, these first few episodes suggest it’s worth continuing. This ambitious horror could well take hold.

Grotesquerie is now available to watch on Disney+ and Hulu in the US