2 out of 5

Created by: Ryan Murphy, Jon Robin Baitz, and Joe Baken

covers season 1

I don’t want to dramatically impugn the quality of any given Ryan Murphy project primarily because I watch (and enjoy) a heck of a lot of them, but also because these shows generally carry co-creator / co-producer credits to whom any positive or negative criticisms should also be attributed. At the same time, Murphy’s name implies something to those of us watch that ‘heck of a lot of them,’ and there seems to be some shared acceptance of a certain amount of… indulgence in such projects. Which, again, may be a positive or negative thing.

So there’s your qualifying intro. With that buffer: Grotesquerie seems to be the leftovers of the more salacious of Murphy’s body of credits and co-credits; without a home, these leftovers drift on the surface of a kind of tepidly bubbling body water, eventually congealing around a “detective noir” concept that’s dunked into the mix with a messy splash, after having been left on the shelf for too long, and used only because it’s soon to expire. Some good actors and good-enough ideas are blended in, but they can only liven this thing up so much; it works, though – you keep taking bites, getting that hint of flavor, like this could almost be something. I mean, it’s not bad, though it’s certainly not flavorful, but please don’t make it again, but sure, I’ll finish it.

In Grotequerie, about 80% of the first season features perpetually drunken detective Lois Tryon (Niecy Nash-Betts) – doing that TV thing where we’re told they’re brilliant geniuses but that generally just amounts to yelling a lot and going where the script tells them – being all aghast at Hannibal / True Detective-inspired scenes of ritual slaughter and dead-body posing that are sometimes sorta tinged with religious overtones, and so bouncing “who’s the killer” theories back and forth with true crime fan and church newspaper beat reporter Sister Megan (Micaela Diamond), who had butted her nose in to the crime scenes, but proves to be a great resource. …Y’know, in the way that Lois is a great detective. The other 20% of the show is relationship and family drama.

Bearing with how snarky I’m hopefully way apparently being, there’re fun bits and bobs strewn about the show, and brief occasions that do more than give Nash-Betts four-letter words and insults to work with, leading to some truly compelling exchanges with her husband, Marshall (Courtney B. Vance), or his nurse (Lesley Manville), or her daughter (Raven Goodwin). Diamond’s rather flat affect is commuted into a typically Murphy oddball character (eye-rollingly paired with a twisted priest, played appropriately zealously by Nicholas Alexander Chavez), but she’s really enjoyably on screen, especially when given room to fill her part out a bit. Even Travis M. Kelce puts in a competent performance that’s well-scripted to his style.

Nonetheless, as mentioned, this is in service of keeping things trucking. The murder-per-episode; Lois is drunk and yells at her fellow officers; Sister Megan spouts some related church lore; gets really tired, especially because A. no details really move the story along until we’re about 7 or 8 episodes deep, and B. even the opportunity for some really garish set pieces fall flat, in an odd half-step between going typically overboard like AHS, and maybe trying to be “classy” by not showing as much? Or maybe we’re working with a thinner budget? Perhaps that also explains the AHS knock-off title sequence that feels pulled from stock footage?

Whatever the case, I appreciate the thought of applying the co-Murphy taint to a cynical, spooky noir. But it’s neither indulgent enough to be a full-on guilty pleasure watch, or smart enough to function as a proper mystery.