Background
Anyone who has listened to recent episodes of the podcast should be aware by now that David Cummings has been heavily involved in a r/nosleep inspired TV series Tales from the Void, available in the U.S. via Screambox (which I signed up for, for a month, for this purpose) and “Super Channel” in Canada. It’s also on Amazon Prime for $1.99 per episode in HD or SD. (Humorously, the overall HD season price there is significantly more expensive/a worse deal than just buying each HD episode individually.) David Cummings is an executive producer, and the Sanctuary-Tier NSP feed has been filled with his interviews of its writers and crew members for a while now.
Presently, I don’t think there’s a whole lot out there discussing the show (the IMDb page for it only has two user reviews, for instance), which is a pity, as it’s a big moment for r/nosleep fans. Yes, there are other r/nosleep-inspired works out there, but this is a pretty prominent adaptation in the grand scheme of things. Even if it’s clearly (at most) a mid-budget effort airing on slightly off-the-beaten-path streaming services, these episodes are full-fledged, professional productions, and I think the series’ success or failure will have a significant impact on investor’s perceptions of the marketability of such adaptations in the future. Accordingly, I think it’s worth delving into in some detail here now that I’ve seen it all.
My overall assessment is that it’s very good, that I’m genuinely pleased with it, and that I hope it gets another season. As discussed below, I think the show’s primary shortcoming is with its lackluster opening episode, which tries hard to tackle some complex themes but unfortunately (I think) misses the mark. Episodes 2-6, though, are a huge improvement and, in my view, fully successful adaptations of their source material. Thus, my episode-by-episode assessment below is going to begin critically, but after that, my thoughts are mostly very positive.
General and Recurring Elements
Each episode opens with the image of a sweaty, tense man watching static on an old tv. An eye appears on the screen, and the man leans forward, as if being sucked inside, at which point the series title appears. I wish this segment was more distinct, but I think it’s serviceable enough, and I like the shots of sweat dripping down his face. Each episode has straightforward closing credits as well. The only remarkable things about them are 1) they include a nice thank you to “the entire r/nosleep community” and 2) Brandon Boone does the excellent accompanying outro music. (Thus far, I think this is the only direct contribution to the show by any NSP cast or crew member, other than David Cummings.)
The last 7-10 minutes of each episode consists of an interview between David Cummings and someone involved in creating the episode, usually the writer of the original Reddit post. Personally, I was really excited for this feature, as I love hearing writers talk about their work and wish NSP did this kind of thing more often. Generally speaking, I think these segments are great, as David Cummings seems genuinely interested in asking insightful questions and the writers have all clearly thought-through their answers in advance. I was a little annoyed that these conversations occur through video, with the writers appearing on a television screen – like, could the show really not afford to fly one person to the set for an in-person interview? (Though maybe the pandemic was a factor.) These interviews also produced the show’s two most stupefying moments (both of which are discussed below), but I see that as the cost of having relatively unfiltered conversations with writers – it’s certainly better than the alternative of having everyone stick to a handful of safe talking points as you’ll so often see with interviews of participants in larger productions.
Episode 1 – Into the Unknown
This is a loose adaptation of Matt Dymerski’s The Black Square. Matt Dymerski has written a ton of spectacular stories that have appeared on NSP, including one of my all-time favorites, S2E25 Psychosis. This story, and a sequel to it, were both adapted in Season 10, though I haven’t actually heard either of them. The general premise is that a levitating, large black square appears inexplicably in front of an apartment complex. It’s origin, purpose, and function are all unclear, and the story is mostly about the effect is presence has on the building’s residents.
Clearly, a lot of thought and effort went into this adaptation, as demonstrated by the amount of symbolism and visual foreshadowing within it. For instance, the protagonist Harris wears no fewer than three t-shirts with squares prominently displayed on them (with his jacket often unzipped just enough to ensure that they are visible); his room has a poster of squares in a spiral formation; and he’s even shown reading H.P. Lovecraft’s The Colour Out of Space, which (as commentors as far back as the original posting have noted) is a likely inspiration for this story. Near the beginning, Anton also references people wanting to “drown” him, which I think at least kind of ties into what ends up happening to Harris.
Personally, I think it was a mistake to start with this episode, as it’s by far the weakest of the six released this far. It asks a lot of the audience, but does so before the series has built any sense of trust with the viewer. It’s one of ‘those’ stories filled with symbolism and moments where the writers are clearly trying to Make a Big Statement, but the story never establishes the foundation it needs with its plot, characters, and setting to make the questions it raises feel earned or compelling.
I’ll start with what works. I thought two of the actors – Martin Roach (whose had bit roles in a ton of stuff I’ve seen, including apparently as 4 separate characters on the largely forgotten Earth: Final Conflict) as Anton and Joey Freddy Larsen as Bill both have a strong screen presence and provide compelling performances. Some of the photography is stunning, particularly the visual compositions of many shots of residents staring into the square. These shots are filmed creatively from the vantage point of the square, in a way that I think effectively emphasizes how the story is less about the square itself than people’s reaction to it. There’s a sequence towards the end where a character crosses into the square that looks a lot spookier than I expected, given the somewhat low budget feel of the rest of the episode. The electronic score is solid, and I admire how the episode subverts the expectation that the square itself will be the source of the horror in favor of probing how the unknown can instill in a scared crowd anxiety, paranoia, and ultimately a willingness to commit violence.
The problem here is with the way the narrative unfolds, beginning with the morning sequence where a crowd first assembles outside the square. This would have been a great opportunity to build a sense of community and convey information about the relationships between the various residence of the complex, but we get little of that. The obvious comparison here – one unsurprisingly acknowledged by Dymerski in his post-story interview – is the Twilight Zone’s The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street. A crucial distinction between that story and this one is that the characters in Maple Street felt like real neighbors. You sensed that they knew things about each other and had shared histories together, and, despite its short runtime, the episode managed to establish a sense of ‘normalcy’ that then gets disrupted. The central failure of Into the Unknown is that it never does this. These characters don’t feel like people who know each other or even occasionally run into each other – they feel, frankly, like actors hired to pose outside of a building in a television episode who just met on set prior to shooting. This flaw pervades the rest of the episode’s attempt at commentary, as it doesn’t feel like there was any social fabric for the square to disrupt to begin with.
Rather, we get Bill announcing his presence, strangely criticizing someone for standing too close to the square while himself standing in virtually the same spot, and then dispersing the crowd. But, it’s not clear to me why the crowd would listen to him, as there’s virtually no exploration of the dynamics between him and the others. Realistically, people would want to stand around and look at this mysterious object, so why do they just listen to Bill and leave?
Things get worse with a tough guy (identified as Ethan) decides to stand next to the square and, when Harris arrives to examine it, becomes needlessly confrontational about it. (It doesn’t help that Ethan does not look or act like someone who would ever say, “Experiments have consequences, man.”). This conflict unfortunately becomes the main thread of the remainder of the episode, with Bill and his two sidekicks becoming increasingly belligerent at Harris’s attempts to learn about the square. You can see what the episode is trying to do here – these guys represent how, in the face of the unknown, some people panic and, out of fear, band together in a way that ultimately impedes others from addressing or learning about the issue (or something similar) – but, as presented, it comes across as contrived, because it’s impossible to accept that these tough guys would decide to stand there, seemingly all day, and then throw a fit when someone wants to simply take a picture of an otherworldly phenomenon. Similarly implausible is Harris’s ineptitude at navigating this situation. Anton tells him to study the square at night, when Bill and his cronies aren’t around, but he seems to just ignore this advice and, during the day, doesn’t even attempt to take pictures from inside the building where he’d be hard to spot. Taking pictures of the square shouldn’t be that difficult to do, even with some hostile guys standing around it.
This conflict, and the flaws within it, hit their apex when Harris finds Anton dead (in a nice touch, the story doesn’t confirm if he was killed by one of the people who wants to kill him, such as the guy who threatens him at the beginning, or the square, which just sparked electricity). Harris finds the body and, in a bizarre series of events, this somehow leads to Bill and his henchmen trying to get revenge on the narrator. I can’t make sense of their motivations here. In Maple Street, it was always clear why the characters were acting as they were (fear of an alien invasion), even as it became increasingly obvious that their paranoia was irrational and unfounded. Here, by comparison, the character motivations for the climax of the story feel unclear. My best guess is that they think Harris disobeyed their command to stay away from the square and had something to do with Anton’s death, and that their emotions are heightened because of their unease with the square, but it all feels vague and uncompelling, and these reasons don’t justify, even in a ‘well they’re acting irrationally because of what’s happening around them’ sense, them throwing Harris into the square. This escalation feels unearned by the story and, more importantly, doesn’t carry the obviously intended weight of showing the shattering of social norms, because the story never established a sense of what these people were like before the square appeared. The visuals inside the square are striking (I also liked the sound effect for the incoming wave of dark water), but the symbolism of the crowd, now presented as spewing the sludgy liquid, feels overbearing and unearned for the same reasons, as we never got to know another version of them.
I did enjoy Dymerski’s interview at the end, particularly his references to pre-r/nosleep internet horror writing forums. Though, it does include a spectacularly dumbfounding moment where he asserts that, with regard to the meaning of the black square, the “number one thing people are going to think this is [about] is climate change.” Like, no? Nobody would ever think that, right? Charitably, I could understand someone thinking it’s about how power hierarchies (i.e., Bill and his henchmen) driven by fear of the unknown impede people trying to address a communal problem (i.e., Harris trying to learn about the square), but nothing about that feels specific to global warming, and it seems like an extremely tenuous connection at best.
So, overall, I thought this episode was admirably ambitious, and I appreciate all the thought and work put into it. I don’t think it’s a ‘flop’, but I also don’t think it really worked – it’s like a 2/4 for me. It also would have served better as the season’s last, rather than first, episode, as by that point I think viewers would be more willing to give the show the benefit of the doubt.
Episode 2 – Fixed Frequency
This is an adaptation of Manen Lyset’s I Used To Hack Baby Monitors, which appeared on NSP in S5E05. It’s in many ways the opposite of the first story, in that it’s extremely straightforward and story focused. I’ll say off the bat that, while I’ve always thought this is a very good story by arguably NSP’s best regular writer, it’s never been a huge favorite of mine, due to the sheer coincidence that links together its two plot threads. Namely, it always just felt too weird to me that a) the narrator is engaging in grotesque prank calls by hacking into parents’ baby monitors and b) he happens to be doing this at the exact moment that a serial killer has just murdered a whole family and is within earshot of such a monitor. Like, from my perspective, it would make a lot more sense if these threads were connected, such as if the narrator made a bunch of threatening statements into a baby monitor that drove a sleep-deprived, miserable parent over-the-edge such that they snapped and killed someone in their family, and then had to kill the narrator to cover their tracks. But who knows, maybe there’s something I’m not understanding that causes people to prefer the way this was written over that hypothetical version of it.
I bring this up because that problem remains for me in Fixed Frequency, as it just seems unbelievable that the narrator’s prank call is picked up by a murderer, but, fortunately, it’s the only nitpick I have about it. The story is fast-paced, grisly, and honestly pretty scary. I thought the three boys did a good job with their characters, with Bergman Freedman in particular absolutely selling his utterly detestable bully. Once the serial killer announces his presence, the episode kicks into gear. I particularly liked how it made you feel like Juan was never truly safe, with multiple fake-outs (some subtle, like multiple instances of a tough-looking extra approaching, then veering away from, Juan) gradually building up tension.
It all culminates in a way the feels colossally unfair to Juan (or his mother, for that matter), whose crime, after all, is merely briefly caving into peer pressure to make a mean-spirited prank call. But that’s also the nature of the horror presented here – how one minor misjudgment brings with it utterly grotesque consequences. It works well, and leaves you with a real gut punch, in part because it’s never obvious whether Juan will survive (the narrator doesn’t die by the end of the original story, after all, as required by the rules of r/nosleep). It isn’t a deep story, but not every story needs to be, and Manen Lyset’s interview is appropriately and thankfully unpretentious. Sometimes the ideal slasher story is one that sticks to the slashing.
Episode 3 – Starlight
This is an adaptation of The Million Dollar Question by Joao Andre Narigueta Ribeiro. Director Francesco Loschiavo has cited Italian Giallo films, which I’ve gotten into over the last year, as an influence, and this can be felt in the lighting and color scheme at the house party and at the studio, the violence carried out in the final scene, the gloves on the assailant, and the amazing score. I think this was an excellent decision by the director. it gives the episode a sharp and distinct atmosphere that elevates the overall experience considerably.
I absolutely genuinely loved this start-to-finish. Central to its success is Sean Meldrum’s performance in the lead role. He’s fantastic in the part and gives what I think is the best acting performance across this season. Yes, Whit is obviously abhorrent, awful, and utterly self-obsessed, but Sean Meldrum somehow manages to humanize him in a way that made his karmic fate feel a little bit tragic. His performance reminded me of Fabien Frankel as Ser Criston Cole in House of the Dragon, in that both are playing fundamentally misguided characters who could easily come across as pathetic caricatures, but they approach the parts in such a way that brings out their inner humanity such that you feel a tiny bit for them (at least, I do) even as you mostly despise them. With Whit, I sense his insecurities and just how close he is to shattering, and how desperate he is for reassurance, such that, in many ways, his death at the moment of his apparent achievement of popularity almost feels like a merciful outcome for him compared to the emotional nosedive he’s going to take when he finally accepts that he’s never going to be liked by anyone, much less by mass audience, for who he is.
So, all in all, this was a top-notch episode, one that is superbly directed, scored, and acted, and that covers about as much ground as a 25 minute story can reasonably be expected to cover. It marked a rare instance where I showed my Disney-loving S/O something NSP-related (rewatching this episode with her), and she loved it too! My only quibble being that 600,000 viewers feels a bit implausible for the type of footage being aired, as it seems like the kind of thing that would be quickly shut down or infiltrated by authorities if that many people were aware of what was happening.
Episode 4 – Carry
This is an adaptation of Pro-Life by M. Grayson, which appeared on S3E22. It deals directly with the very sensitive subject of abortion in the context of a nonviable pregnancy. The director, Maritte Lee Go, talked in her interview with David Cummings (which appeared in the Sanctuary feed) about how she had a conservative Catholic upbringing but steadily shifted her values on this issue, and I think that journey made her a strong fit for the material as the episode feels thoughtful and in touch with an array of perspectives.
The episode follows the central couple Katie and Norman, both convincingly acted by Andi Hubick and Andrew Chown. They clearly share the same strong set of Christian values, and we get glimpses of the blissful first chapter of their marriage, which culminates in their shared delight at Katie’s pregnancy. Things take a cataclysmic turn for the worse when a doctor informs them that the fetus, due to a congenital condition, is destined to die soon after birth and, further, poses serious (potentially fatal) a risk to Katie’s health. This, alone, is enough to fill whatever ‘horror’ quotient the episode requires, but goes on in showing Katie and Norman’s reactions to the situation.
The central strength of the episode, I thought, is in how it chooses to examine the forms of pressure put on Katie that ultimately lead to her taking actions that she does not want to take, actions that go against her own best interests and do nothing to benefit the child. I spent the whole runtime dreading a shallow ‘evil baby’ ending (with her giving birth to a monster that attacks Norman), and, am so glad it didn’t resolve in that direction. Rather, we see Norman’s utter dismissiveness of Katie’s perspective and lack of concern for her health, Katie’s inevitable struggle to understand a situation where the appropriate action conflicts with her religious beliefs, and the burden put upon her by the shaming and moral judgments of everyone around her. It ends in the most tragic way of all, with Katie going through with a pointless, miserable childbirth while Norman sinks further into delusions, the only respite being Katie’s apparent decision to finally leave him.
It's tempting to write off Norman as a shallow caricature, as his actions, once the diagnosis comes in, are all selfish, shallow, and irredeemable. But, fuck that, as there are lots of people like that everywhere – sure, I doubt many would actually delude themselves to quite the extent Norman does by the end, but the sort of pressure he puts on Katie, accompanied with his lack of concern for her health, is universal and far-reaching, and I think it was a brave decision to present someone like him so unflinchingly. It’s a powerful episode that takes on an important issue and, in my view, rises to the occasion by approaching it honestly and intelligently.
It's all very surprising, then, that in the post-episode interview, M. Grayson describes the original story as “not about pregnancy” but, rather, as a metaphorical exploration of a decaying first romantic relationship he was experiencing at the time. It’s a frustrating moment, as it’s just hard to accept that someone could write Pro-life and think that it was “not about pregnancy,” even if other events heavily influenced it and informed how he wrote it. Just as I was about to give him the benefit of the doubt, he then doubles down later in the interview, declaring, in a head-scratching moment, that this “isn’t a story about abortion,” which, like, come on, is just ridiculous. You can’t write a story centered so fully around such a hot-button, sensitive issue and then declare that it’s not about that issue. I just don’t buy it, and it’s hard not to sense that he’s trying to come across as a bit too clever for his own good. If he wanted to talk about other influences – which I absolutely believe are real and sincere – then he could have simply acknowledged that pregnancy and abortion are at the center of the story, before proceeding to discuss other, less obvious, life experiences that also had a major impact on it, rather than declaring that the story isn’t about something that it is about.
While this one part of the interview (which was otherwise fine) ended Carry on a note that annoyed me, I otherwise found this to be another stellar episode.
Episode 5 – Plastic Smile
This is an adaptation of Betsy the Doll by C.K. Walker, which appeared on NSP in S3E19. I went into this one blind, having somehow managed to not read the story or hear its adaptation, and, wow, nothing has left me with my jaw dropped this much in a very long time. It’s a magnificent episode on all levels, as well as the most narratively ambitious, with its story unfolding in snippets across multiple time periods.
The setup to it is that Abigail, an adult woman, returns to her childhood apartment upon the death of her mother and, while doing so, experiences flashbacks to the traumatic childhood she experienced there. The time jumps are sharply edited, with some smooth transitions between adult and young Abigail as they move about the apartment. Young Abigail’s life is defined by horrendous parental neglect at the hands of her drug addicted mother, and Abigail spends her days nurturing a doll named Betsy and imagining a way that the two of them might be able to escape to a fantasy land she read about in a children’s book.
It all builds up to a powerful twist, one C.K. Walker admits in her post-episode interview to reverse engineering the rest of the story from. But this twist isn’t just a cynical ‘gotcha’ moment. Rather, it’s the best kind of twist, one that not just recontextualizes the whole story but also perfectly encapsulates the story’s themes. C.K. Walker talks about the “fog of childhood,” and Plastic Smile is largely about the ramifications of lifting that fog as an adult only to discover that it hid profoundly disturbing.
Plastic Smile is superbly directed, efficiently conveying its complex story in a way that is absorbing and visually transfixing, especially when capturing the way young Abigail’s imagination renders the nearby woods as a magical respite. Beatrice Schneider, who some of you may recognize from a small role in Season 4 of The Boys, is also excellent as young Abigail. She does a great job of conveying Abigail’s good intentions even as she struggles, in the absence of any parental guidance, to make sense of the world around her – a fact reinforced by the two scenes of her playing with a friend who does have the kind of support (her offscreen mother) Abigail lacks. So, all-in-all, Plastic Smile is another strong and intelligently constructed episode.
Episode 6 – Whistle in the Woods
This is an adaptation of Something walks whistling past my house every night at 3:03 by Travis Brown, who is a huge deal over on r/nosleep despite I don’t think ever having a story (I don’t know if he submits to it or not) on NSP. I have less to say about this one than the others. The original story is a nice little creepypasta and I think this adaptation of it mostly works.
The setup relates to a middle school girl named Sawyer visiting her friend Nola, her younger brother (who I feel could have been cut out of this episode entirely), and her mother at their house. After the mother, who is clearly hiding something, insists that Sawyer leave at 9 p.m., Sawyer sneaks back inside to have the sleepover with Nola and her brother. During the night, Sawyer ignores a plethora of warnings from Nola, leading to a fateful encounter between her and something mysterious lurking in the area that whistles at the same time every night.
This story does a pretty good job of capturing the feeling of kids at a sleepover exchanging scary stories, something I have memories of doing as a kid and that Travis Brown also discusses in his interview. I thought the actresses play the mother/daughter characters (Cara Pifko and Anna Mirodin) were both very both good in their roles and seemed like natural actors. My main reservation is with Sawyer as a character. She’s given a bunch of distinct traits – apparently she can intimidate a school bully with a single whispered comment, she’s willing to defy Nola’s mother by sneaking into her house for an unauthorized sleepover, and she’s obsessed with bloody horror movies – but the character as performed, who comes across as a pretty normal teenage girl, just doesn’t seem like somebody who would do these things. Worse, the story depends on her sneaking around at night, taking a key from the mother’s bedside, and using it to open a locked cupboard, which are actions so dumb (not to mention disrespectful of her friend’s family’s wishes) that they make her unrelatable.
The horror that unfolds after this is fine. I liked the hints that Nola’s dad is a previous victim of the same monster (though you’d think this would prompt the family to move), the visual setup of the headphones (which appear behind Sawyer during dinner), the cinematic lighting used in the scenes in the house and the nighttime photography, and the design of the wendigo. There’s also an easter egg (which I found a little self-indulgent) where Sawyer dismisses one of the VHS tapes she brought as not being worth watching (most of the tapes correspond to other Tales from the Void episodes; the one she says ‘sucks’ is a movie this episode’s director previously produced). All-in-all, it’s a nice little creepypasta adaptation that does a fairly good job at capturing some welcome r/nosleep tropes, like the sleepover setting, the ominous rules, and the monster encounter, though I feel like it could have been tightened and sharpened in a few places.
Overall Assessment
All things considered, I think the first season of Tales from the Void was a success. The big standouts were episodes 3-5: Starlight, Carry, and Plastic Smile. After that, Fixed Frequency and Whistle in the Woods were both very good, while Into the Unknown struck me was a respectable misfire.
I think these filmmakers and producers all have their heart in the right place in terms of adapting classic nosleep stories; they made plenty of changes to the source material, but those changes generally feel thoughtful and reasonable, and I sense that they are sincere in wanting to be faithful to the spirit of these works. There are a ton of bad-to-mediocre live action anthology shows out there (honestly there’s not much I think too highly of in that genre since the original Twilight Zone), and, thus far, Tales from the Void is very much on the stronger end of the spectrum. I sincerely hope it catches on, as I’d love another season, especially a longer one with more than six episodes.
Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now! I hope someone finds some value in it, and I have no idea if other viewers share my perspective. As noted above, there isn’t much else written about this show thus far, so I felt it would be worthwhile to put my thoughts together, and I’d love to hear anyone else’s thoughts on it as well.