It sounds like Fowler and her producer, Aaron Slotzsky, exposed a lot dirt on a progressive politician, because they are now taking heat, even from friends and colleagues, because their subject was supposedly “on the right side of history.” He is also suing for defamation. To get away from the constant harassment and process servers, Fowler rented a farm house in the quaint little village of Lowery, because it was the only hideout she could rent on such short notice—for good reason, we soon suspect.
Lowery is a weird place, with more rules and regulations than a Catholic boarding school. It also has an earlier curfew. The locals are also quite odd, in manners that are both intrusive and standoffish. She should be looking to leave fast. Instead, she starts nosing around the town’s buried history after a box of bizarre video and audio tapes practically leaps into her hands during the closing minutes of the pilot episode.
As Fowler starts investigating, she discovers the town is weirder than she originally thought, in profoundly suspicious ways, like the fact that the town newspaper archive in the Lowery library is heavily redacted. However, she finally gets a local to start dishing a little, thanks to the liberal application of booze.
Unfortunately, only two episodes were provided for review. That is a shame because it is really only just getting started. It is especially frustrating, because those two episodes are enormously grabby and intriguing. Frankly, at this point, it isn’t even clear if Trouble s truly horror or more of a Twin Peaks-ish mystery, but either way, Cahlo and Watson solidly establish Lowery as a strange and sinister place.
So, so far, so good. The twenty-some minute running times are also highly bingeable and discourage filler. It will not do any favors for Hudson Valley tourism, but this state only has itself to blame for its downward spiral. Recommended with all due optimism based on the first two episodes, The Trouble with Tessa starts streaming tomorrow (7/15) on Screambox.
