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  • In Scavengers Reign, there is a species of seemingly simple alien creatures that utilizes telepathy to order other alien creatures to bring it food, and one of this species uses this ability to control a person by way of wordlessly communicating and manipulating the person through dream-like evocation of memories and attached emotions. To what end? The creature’s mere sustenance? When later the relationship becomes symbiotic, and the creature’s actions take new directions, as unexplained as they are aggressively direct, deeper questions arise of its motives and the true nature of this relationship. What is this thing really? Is it really just some creature? Is it meant to be a symbolic representation of something to the human? Could it be both? How does this all work really? Big, compounding questions like these abound in the show, and these are just a small piece of one of multiple characters’ intersecting journeys in the collection of monumental mystery, horror, and wonder that is Scavengers Reign.

    The show is a twelve-episode animated science fiction series created by Joseph Bennett and Charles Huettner adapted from their eight-minute 2016 short and developed by Titmouse, Inc. and Green Street Studios. In the depths of space, a starship was critically damaged above a mysterious alien planet teeming with strange flora, fauna, and other oft-dangerous natural peculiarities. Three small groups of crew managed to escape the catastrophe, becoming scattered across the planet’s surface. Each struggled to survive the alien conditions for presumably years while lacking any greater knowledge of events beyond that their group alone lived. An event is witnessed by all three groups that compels each to begin trekking across this violently hostile and beautifully wondrous planet towards a singular, distant destination.

    Scavengers Reign‘s gorgeous animation and sublimely lush soundtrack would fight for stealing the show if they did not together cohesively generate such all-around effectively produced experiences scene after scene. Both elements are meticulously and lovingly crafted and deliver a broad variety of sights, sounds, and moods, not to be unexpected as the show jumps between disparate tales of multiple protagonists’ many day journeys across a planet’s many biomes.

    “This place is like a puzzle. Nothing really makes sense the way we know it,” a protagonist states. The show depicts the setting of this alien world and all its many natural peculiarities as though one was surveying the quarantined zone of Annihilation with the documentarian approach of Planet Earth. And speaking of zones, sprinkle a bit of Tarkovsky mind-bending metaphysicality into the mix. You never know precisely what to expect as a fresh scene begins, but you come to expect something new and probably weird will be presented to you nonetheless. Every detail of the world is drowned in layers of unexplained mystique that quickly turns the planet into a mysterious character in its own right.

    If all this sounds rather adult in nature, it generally is. The show is quite mature in its tone. It takes its time. It focuses on details. It shows rather than explains. It is unafraid to realistically portray the regular brutality of nature, gore and all. It regularly dives into imagery absurd, grotesque, and/or downright weird. Body horror abounds. Depiction of interpersonal relationships come across as natural and nuanced, as is the dialogue (and accompanying voice acting) that emerges from those. But, not all is realistic. There is a healthy dose of whimsical inventiveness, that borders on outlandish and would only ever work in animation, in the solution to quite a few plights as the episodes roll on. And it takes suspension of disbelief to accept how quickly derived and committed to some of these are. But these are relatively minor criticisms that do little to undo the overall exemplary quality of this show.

    The scope of everything combined–telescopic focus upon both the details and broader mechanisms of the natural world alongside plots of humans which seem increasingly dwarfed as the show goes on by being mere parts of… something incomprehensibly bigger and ultimately existential–gives an overarching grand philosophical air to Scavengers Reign. Reminds me of a Terrence Malick film in this way. And yet it does this unpretentiously, not saying a word to the effect, merely through what it chooses to show of its deep world and how. Underneath layers of high production value, what Scavengers Reign wants to do at its core is epic and beautiful.

    SCORE:

    4.5 / 5

    As of November 13th, 2023, Scavengers Reign is available to watch on Max.


  • Just finished watching the eight-episode miniseries The Fall of the House of Usher from Mike Flanagan, creator of other popular horror-themed television shows such as The Haunting of Hill House and Midnight Mass. Here are my thoughts on it.

    As an interconnected piece of an overarching frame story on the fate of the titular Ushers as a whole (an extremely affluent, powerful, corrupt, and complicated American crime family), most episodes deal in the individual tragedy of a particular member of that family, each of those episodes additionally loosely based on one of the many classic horror tales of Edgar Allen Poe. The setup is incredibly compelling. Pulling such a complex premise made of disparate parts into a single cohesive work takes a good deal of intelligent architecting across multiple interconnected storylines and not insignificant literary knowledge (since much of it is based around Poe’s works). And Mike Flannigan’s crew mostly succeeds in this task, but every episode does not hit to the same standard in regards to the writing.

    Visually, yes, and this makes sense as Flannigan himself directed every episode. The show is extremely consistent in its visual tone: each carefully-constructed shot is exquisitely rich with dark, brooding, Gothic atmosphere or (very often and, in the hybrid sense) modern sleekness. This hybrid tone permeates. In fact, I feel the show is too consistent, and ultimately stiff, when it comes to its horror elements. Most scares–and there are jump scares–are rendered relatively ineffective. Horror elements especially repetitious in pattern even begin to come across somewhat lazy as the episodes go on, not emotionally matching the dramatic sound cues accompanying. But consistent, and consistently high quality, the visual production (and sound design, I might add) certainly is.

    The writing, again, not so much. None of it is terrible, although sometimes you can feel the voice of a single writer in dialogues rather than conversations feeling as different characters are speaking to one another each from their own head-spaces. This is exceedingly common in movies and TV, especially in talky scenes lacking any action. Drives me up a wall when I am presented a collection of characters merely cliches/stereotypes, that then all speak and act quickly and together as though driven by a singular motor toward the one purpose the writer has for this exchange of dialogue, with their individual cliche/stereotypical traits the only differentiation between the characters, like different flavor packets. Much of the writing is very good: cynically, satirically biting at various aspects of American culture and the “Elites” that run the show through all manner of malfeasance, perversion, and corruption. This is handled a bit comically heavy-handed and cliched in parts, but it’s dealt with quite similarly to Eric Kripe’s The Boys, at least somewhat self-aware of the over-exaggeration of its satire. And so it comes across, in the end, as… clever. Sometimes the writing is deathly serious, and other times–often in the same scene–supremely goofy. And all of this works quite well to keep things on the whole fairly engaging.

    But, because you can put together very early on during an episode, how it is going to fall neatly into place within the established pattern of how each of this show’s episodes go… and never do any surprise… a lot of interesting potential, especially in regards to mystery, is squandered. Each episode becomes solely about how interesting the characters and dialogue is in going through the same tragic, downward spiral motions; how hard the important bits hit; and whether it drags or not. And some episodes are just weaker than others in all these regards. Final nitpick: there’s some serious believability lapses in the behavior of a few characters as the series progresses. A decent mix of careful nuance and hamfisted heavy-handedness, the writing driving the story is of high caliber but not without significant flaw, which is common in television with many writers, but even in overall conception in regards to the repetitive episode framework.

    Speaking of mystery, therein lies the show’s biggest flaw in my eyes. A certain degree of predictability might be expected, seeing as the show is primarily based around well-known works of the 19th Century, but even when the show is trying to be mysterious, nothing in even a single episode, even when fully dressed by stingers and all to support, comes as a surprise. Sure, the title of the show kind of gives it away, and from the start it’s mostly told in flashback so the audience is asking, “How did we get here?” But, as an example, there’s one major twist in the whooole shebang, and they spoil this by revealing beforehand the character is going to do it.

    All in all, The Fall of the House of Usher is well worth your time, especially if you think you’d dig a brooding drama about the rich and powerful becoming systematically undone that culminates time-and-time again in a myriad of outlandishly horrific ways.