American Horror Story is always an exponentially increasing whirlwind of crazy. Given that it started out pretty damn out there, by this point it shouldn’t surprise anyone that it’s like a mental patient screaming in your face. No, wait, that was Asylum…
So whilst you wipe the spittle from your face, it’s worth remembering that despite mid-season stumbles, this has still been the best series so far. The plot twists have been over-the-top, the characters madder than a box of frogs, and the lines of taboo pretty much nonexistent.
And yet, the last episode bathed the camera in blood. What can top that?
Apparently, the up-and-down rollercoaster of American Horror Story‘s abusive relationship with its fans is nothing new. From what I gather that was the view of people watching week by week with Murder House and Asylum too.
Given that I watched both series after the fact, if not in one sitting then in substantial chunks, I didn’t get that experience. I saw the stories as a whole, and even with all of their flaws there was never the lingering sense of “Huh…” after the credits rolled because I would just roll straight onto the next one.
Box-set style viewing. It’s the future, apparently.
Which is my long-winded way of saying that this Russian roulette thing where you never know if you’re getting a brilliant or mediocre episode is a bit of a bitch, isn’t it?
I make no secret that I was a little disappointed with the last couple of Coven episodes.
The series had such a strong start that I was raving about the show, excited for what looked set to be the best AHS yet. Sadly, the frenetic pace ebbed a little, and it seemed to lose that shine. “Burn, Witch. Burn” in particular felt like a hollow, half-episode which didn’t really contribute anything to the story.
And for an episode with that title, that should have been unforgivable.
I’m holding fast to my “no spoilers above the line” policy, so as not to spoil the episode for anyone who hasn’t a) seen it, and b) deliberately clicked on this page, but wow.
American Horror Story has always been unafraid to push boundaries, it’s one reason it’s one of the most innovative and exciting shows on TV (possibly taking the top spot, now Breaking Bad is done). Each series it pushes a little further, goes a little further into the taboo, shines the light a little brighter down the darkened corridor.
And Coven had already done that. Sexy, weird, surprising. The first two episodes had already satisfied my need for continual progression. I really wasn’t expecting another great heave in the third episode.
American Horror Story: Coven really is the show that (early) True Blood wished it was.
In the vaccum left behind by Breaking Bad, there is a clear and vacant space in the television listings for a standout show to become compulsive weekly watching. And so here’s a new series of American Horror Story.
Previous seasons have taken us to a haunted house in California (The Murder House), and a brutal New England mental institution (Asylum). Now we’re in a sultry, sweating New Orleans with a host of familiar faces — and some exciting new ones — witching around.
Given that its past incarnations are amongst my favourite shows — even going so far as curing me of my mistaken belief that horror could not work in the TV series format — it’s a truly palpable relief to be able to say that not only does it live up to its predecessors, but it shapes up for Coven to be the best American Horror Story so far.