If
Poe had been forced to tweet, he might have produced something like
two-sentence horror stories. The minor internet phenomenon is exactly what it
sounds like. Generally, the longer first sentence evokes a situation of dread
and the shorter second sentence is the kicker. Some of the best have been
adapted for the small digital screen by writer-executive producer Vera Miao, who shares
directorial duties with three emerging genre talents during the five-episode
first season of Two Sentence Horror Stories (trailer
here), which premieres this coming Tuesday on Verizon’s
go90 streaming service.
The
first episode, “Ma,” is about twenty
minutes long, which really isn’t much shorter than a classic Twilight Zone episode. Poor mousy Mona
has lived with her domineering mother so long, she has abandoned all hope of an
independent life, until Erica moves into the building. Even though they are
complete opposites, their mutual attraction is undeniable (despite a slightly
rocky introduction). However, this is a horror film, so Ma is not likely to
give up her hold over Mona without a struggle.
Wei-Yi
Lin is compulsively watchable is tragically poignant as Mona. Even at her
squirreliest, she makes us feel for the under-socialized woman. It is also nice
to see Mardy Ma (who made her second career-acting debut in SundanceTV’s One Child) quite chillingly portray her
not really-namesake. Ayesha Harris develops some compelling chemistry with Lin,
while providing a grounded connection to the outside real world. Horror fans
may already have a pretty solid notion of what is going on here, but Miao’s
moody execution is still impressive.
Danny
Perez (who made a bit of a splash with Antibirth)
takes over the helm for “Snap.” Fittingly, it is a very new media story about Donny
Dante, a scummy celebrity blogger who is getting some of his own public-shaming
treatment after driving an unstable starlet to commit suicide. Someone is
definitely out to deliver his comeuppance, but how are they leaving those
disconcerting videos of Dante sleeping on his own phone? Arguably, “Snap” is
the most conventional installments of the series (perhaps owing a small debt to
Stephen king’s The Dark Half), but
Perez keeps the tension cranked up.
“Guilt
Trip,” directed by JD Dillard (best known for the promising Sleight), is probably the weakest of the
batch. It feels like Miao started with the topical takeaway and
reverse-engineered the narrative from there. The tale of a woman who picks up a
victim of police brutality, but soon feels compelled, rightly or wrongly, to
ditch him, never generates much tension and the big twist is glaringly
predictable.
The
series rebounds when Miao returns to the director’s chair for “Singularity.”
Even before she gets into the horror elements, the unsettling practice of “body
hacking” will creep out many viewers. Basically, Nala is trying to turn herself
into a wifi zone through weird, back alley implants. Why is she trying to do
that, you might ask? Her old friend George asks the same question when he
patches her up. Originally, it was all about open source idealism, but when she
starts to pick up on the uncanny entities all around her, she starts to have
second thoughts.
“Singularity”
is scary as heck, but there is a danger the Social Justice Warriors will start
crusading against it on the grounds it equates the disastrous body-hacking with
Nala’s transgenderism. That would be a completely unfair reading of the episode,
but deliberately taking things out of context is what Social Justice Warriors
do. Regardless, both Jen Richards and Bobby Naderi (who co-starred in the smart
and challenging Persian horror film, Under the Shadow) are terrific as Nala and George.
The
first season wraps up with “Second Skin,” directed by Ryan Spindell, which
features some decent body horror, somewhat in the tradition of Starry Eyes. Luna, our down-trodden,
scuffling coat check attendant, gets comped by a well-heeled client to the
wrong hipster day spa. Without question, Carolyn Hennessy is the main
attraction as the flamboyantly evil and well-accessorized Mare.
