I’ve been looking forward with guarded optimism to
Guillermo del Toro’s
Cabinet of Curiosities, of which all eight episodes are now available on
Netflix. The series’ anthology format — mostly adaptations of existing short fiction,
with del Toro presenting them in
Rod Serling’s Night Gallery-esque fashion — struck me
as highly appealing. I learned early on that the two
H.P. Lovecraft
adaptations — “Pickman’s Model” and “Dreams in the Witch House” — were anything
but true to their source material, so, inasmuch as possible, I set my
expectations accordingly. Over three evenings, starting the night after
Halloween, Ms. B. and I binged on the episodes. On the whole, I will say that my
guarded optimism was warranted, and in the case of at least one of the HPL adaptations,
my slimmer-than-slim expectations were met.
Without delving deeply into the plots of each, here is a rundown of the
episodes, ranked — as objectively as I can manage — from the bottom to the
top. Naturally, your mileage may vary.
#8: Episode 6: “Dreams in the Witch House”
(adapted from the story by H.P. Lovecraft)
Putting aside preconceived notions when viewing an adaptation of a work
with which I am intimately familiar can be difficult. Having written
numerous stories specifically for Lovecraftian anthologies and magazines
(including a story that is an indirect prequel to “Dreams”), I’ve been
steeped in Lovecraftian lore for going on forty years. Given its structure
and setting, this story could have been beautifully adapted with
minimal tinkering. For its myriad shortcomings, Stuart Gordon’s adaptation (2005) for HBO’s
Masters of Horror series succeeded better than this
one on every level but the visual. As with every entry in Cabinet of Curiosities, vivid atmosphere and spectacular visuals rate highly in the overall
presentation. Here, at least visually, both Keziah Mason and Brown
Jenkin — two of Lovecraft’s most memorable characters — are done
more-than-adequate justice. Sadly, rather than a chronicle of unsettling,
even disturbing events rooted in Lovecraft’s famed “pseudo-science,” this
one has been turned into an at-best marginally engaging ghost story
featuring only character names, such as Walter Gilman (Rupert Grint)
and Frank Elwood (Ismael Cruz Cordova), and a few superficial events
swiped from HPL tale.
Now, Ms. B., who has never read the original story and is only slightly
familiar with HPL’s body of work, enjoyed the episode considerably more than
I did. But even overlooking the Lovecraft connection, apart from the
impressive — and scary — Keziah Mason, I found this entry overly reliant on
spooky tropes and, for what it offers, more than a little padded (a
shortcoming not unique to this episode). Thus, sadly, I must rate “Dreams”
as the least successful entry in the series.
Now, I would not consider even the “worst” of
Cabinet of Curiosities in any way terrible. None of these episodes fail on every level, and some
succeed on many, even when they fall short in the final reckoning. At the
very least, most manage to be entertaining. Such is “Lot 36,” based on an
original del Toro story. Here, we have an unlikable opportunist, Nick
Appleton (Tim Blake Nelson), who purchases lots from various estates
in hopes of procuring treasures (primarily to pay his creditors, who are
themselves anything but savory characters). Despite Appleton being the
consummate lout, he delivers a barrage of clever quips throughout the
episode, which serve to render him amusing if not exactly sympathetic. Enter
potential buyer Roland (Sebastian Roche), who takes an interest in
Appleton’s most recent acquisition because it contains some exceedingly rare
— and highly valuable — articles of occult-related paraphernalia.
Do you believe things could possibly go well for the characters at this
point? I didn’t think so.
With its focus on distinctly devilish books and other occult items, “Lot
36” at times feels reminiscent of Roman Polanski’s The Ninth Gate, a film I enjoy and admire. For a time, there's an intense buildup that
heralds some genuine chills... only to peter out and end on an underwhelming
note. (Again, “Lot 36” is not unique in this regard.) I would rate this
entry considerably higher if the conclusion felt more like a genuine payoff
than a lazily dangling thread.
#6: Episode 7: “The Viewing”
Despite being thoroughly captivated for most of this episode’s running time
by the almost David Lynchian visuals, the offbeat characters, and — most
notably — the mesmerizing musical score, at the conclusion of this one, it
felt not unlike being yanked out of an alluring dream on a bungee cord.
The enigmatic — and very wealthy — Lionel Lassiter (Peter Weller)
invites a group of accomplished young people to his inner sanctum, where he
surprises them with his intimate knowledge of their personal tastes and vices,
and then proceeds to encourage them to indulge in the best drink, drugs, and
sensory stimulation that his wealth can provide. All this leads to his
revealing an unearthly motivation for his bewildering actions.
It’s no exaggeration to say that “The Viewing,” directed by
Panos Cosmatos, feels like a dream come to life. From the throbbing,
hypnotic techno soundtrack to the Twin Peaks red room–like setting, this is the most sensually immersive episode of
the series. And for that part, I loved it. Yet, following the visually
gripping climax, “The Viewing” simply says “Take THAT, you!” and then wanders
off without addressing... well... much of anything. Now, David Lynch can often
get away with exactly this because exactly this is what David Lynch excels at.
The writing here, however, felt less intentionally ambiguous than simply
half-ass.
Ms. B. and I about needed seatbelts to keep from being hurled through the
proverbial windshield when this one hit the brakes. Boo!
#5: Episode 4: “Outside” (adapted from the webcomic “Some Other Animal’s Meat” by Emily
Carroll)
It took me some little while to recognize Kate Micucci, whom I know
from the rather raunchy duet, Garfunkel & Oates, as Stacey, a
homely, insecure young woman who desperately desires to fit in, even if it’s
with her gossiping, beauty-obsessed, air-headed co-workers at the local
bank. Micucci was really uglied up for the part, and she chews up the
scenery in this episode. At a Dirty Santa party, her “friends” gift her a
beauty product called Alo Glo, which is supposed to contain the magic
ingredients to transform any woman into a desirable beauty queen. Stacey
tries it, but the results are not quite what she expected...
Stacey’s husband, Keith, played by Martin Starr, does his best to
understand his wife’s obsession, but things slide downhill to the point they
can’t really go any farther.
This episode plays very much as a character study. It’s wacky, funny, and
ultimately unsettling. It carries on longer than necessary, but at least it
never turns boring. Ultimately, Stacey undergoes a transformation all right,
but there’s a cost, and it might not be what she — or we — expect. The
quirkiness of the story and Micucci’s portrayal of Stacey give this episode
an agreeable shine.
#4: Episode 5: “Pickman’s Model” (adapted from the story by H.P. Lovecraft)
This adaptation of “Pickman’s Model” is
so not Lovecraft’s story,
and my initial impression ranked it near the bottom. However, as time passed,
I found elements of it lingering in ways I did not expect. The episode’s dark
heart might not be the one Lovecraft crafted in his story, but it exudes an
air of cosmic horror that none of the other series’ entries quite manage. Like
the “Dreams in the Witch House” adaptation, “Pickman’s Model” features some of
the names and settings from the story; however, whereas “Dreams” departs
radically in the theme from its source, “Pickman’s Model” retains at least a
smidgen of the otherworldly dread that permeates Lovecraft’s fiction.
Crispin Glover plays Richard Upton Pickman, the “eccentric” artist of
the title, and in Crispin Glover fashion, he is a presence to be reckoned
with. The character, however, resembles Lovecraft’s Pickman to approximately
the same degree that da Vinci’s Mona Lisa resembles a black velvet Elvis.
They’re both fine, in their way, I suppose. Most of the characters speak with
an exaggerated New England accent, and Glover pushes his so far over the top
that it makes one wonder if, well, maybe he’s somehow related to those weird,
horrific creatures from the underworld featured in his paintings.
There’s a little touch of Lovecraft shortly before the denouement, which made
me smile. Initially, the final scene didn’t sit right with me, but after a
little time and consideration, I felt it more and more apt — kind of the same
way that time and a little air bring out the better qualities of a good red
wine.
#3: Episode 8: “The Murmuring”
I had the hardest time figuring out how to rank this episode. It was very
slow, very moody, and full of traditional ghost story elements. “The
Murmuring” of the title refers to the unique flight patterns of Dunlins, a
type of wading bird not unlike Sandpipers. While studying the birds,
ornithologists Edgar (Andrew Lincoln) and Nancy (Essie Davis)
Bradley take up residence in an old house with a mysterious past. Nancy, in
particular, is troubled by disturbances in the night: the pattering of feet,
mournful cries, thumps, bumps, and occasionally whispery voices. While Edgar
and Nancy seem happy enough at first, there is trouble brewing, and the root
of it is not supernatural.
There are supernatural forces at work, though. Lincoln and Davis are terrific
in their roles, and the episode’s increasingly eerie atmosphere manages to be
gripping. I found myself surprisingly moved by the story’s resolution — which
was far more definitive than most in this series. Still, to my mind, it was a
lovely episode that was effective the first time through; I’m not sure I’d
have the desire or patience to do it all over again.
So, I’ve rated it #3 for all that’s right about it, and no higher for all
that’s not. Again, kind of a tough call.
#2: Episode 2: “Graveyard Rats” (adapted from the story by Henry Kuttner)
It had been many years since I read Kuttner’s “The Graveyard Rats” (in
Chaosium’s Book of Iod), and my memory of
the tale was vague. (I’ve since reread it.) When this episode aired, Brugger
and I had only watched the first episode (“Lot 36”), which wasn’t bad but
also less than satisfying. We hoped for better here. Happily, we got it.
David Hewlett stars as Masson, a seeker of treasures by way of
graverobbing. Like Appleton in “Lot 36,” Masson has come up short of paying
his debts to his unsavory creditors, so his unpleasant get-rich-quick scheme
is rooted in necessity. He learns of the perfect benefactor — recently
deceased, of course — and when the time is right, he sets out to collect his
rightful reward.
Things do not go entirely as planned.
Kuttner’s story is short and sweet, a bare-bones, straightforward
supernatural thriller. For this adaptation, del Toro and director
Vincenzo Natali take the ball and run with it, with far greater
success than either of the Lovecraft entries. The embellishment of the story
works well, providing elements both amusing and chilling while remaining
true to the events of Kuttner’s tale. Hewlett’s portrayal of Masson engages
by way of well-timed humor and, eventually, pathos. The subterranean scenes
play convincingly enough to possibly trigger a claustrophobic response in certain sensitive persons.
So, “Graveyard Rats” earns considerable favor from both Ms. B. and me.
#1: Episode 3: “The Autopsy” (adapted from the story by Michael Shea)
I’ve enjoyed the late Michael Shea’s fiction, particularly “Fat
Face,” which features a unique take on the Lovecraftian Shoggoth, but I’ve
never read “The Autopsy.” So, I can’t compare the adaptation to the
original tale, but I can say that the episode is top-notch and easily the
best of the series. Based on the critiques of the show I’ve read so far,
this verdict seems to be nearly unanimous.
The accomplished and frequently brilliant F. Murray Abraham plays Dr. Carl Winters, the coroner responsible for autopsying the
victims of a mysterious mine explosion. His meticulous post-mortem
investigations lead him down a maze of corridors that first surprise and
then mortify him. Not surprisingly for this series, it turns out
that something inhuman is behind the carnage, and its purpose
is anything but benevolent.
This episode features the most visually graphic scenes of the series, and
the lengths to which Winters is willing to go to discover the truth —
and then conquer his adversary — are not for the squeamish. At
our house, there was some reasonably loud hollering accompanying a few of
these scenes.
It’s a pity that more of the adaptations failed to satisfy to the extent
that this one did. I would go so far as to call this one of the best
episodes in virtually any horror anthology series I can think of. So... an
easy winner for the number one slot.
#
Although Cabinet of Curiosities hits on all cylinders relatively few times, I would still call it
anything but an abject failure. Even the worst of the episodes offer some
impressive visuals and at least a minimal degree of engagement. Across the
board, the acting is impressive, and occasionally — especially in F.
Murray Abraham’s case — it captivated both Ms. B. and me. Even the series’ failures usually offer at least competent if not admirable moments.
So, overall, I’m awarding Cabinet of Curiosities three
and a half out of five Damned Rodan’s Dirty Firetinis, with a whole
extra shot of gin (or vodka, if that’s your preference) for “The Autopsy”
and “Graveyard Rats.”
I have spoken.
