A Show That Defies Explanation — The Curse (TV Review)

This piece was written during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labour of the actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn't exist.

In the Treehouse of Horror VII episode of the Simpsons, Bart discovers his (evil) twin hiding in the attic. A twisted, grotesque version of himself, surviving on buckets of fish-heads. Somewhere, The Property Brothers are shifting uncomfortably, wondering whether Nathan Fielder once lived between the walls of their family home. In The Curse, Fielder plays Asher Siegel, a cowardly and malicious version of the type of inoffensive property flippers fronting the majority of HGTV's many, many property shows – of whom Canadian twin brothers Drew and Jonathan Scott are perhaps the most famous. It's home to a seemingly endless conveyor belt of well-meaning doer-uppers, and also happens to be the channel that Asher, along with his wife Whitney (Emma Stone), are targeting for their own show Fliplanthropy, an environmentally conscious brand of house flipping with a ‘rising tide lifts all boats' attitude. So far, so admirable. Yet in what's supposed to be a puff-piece on their community project with a news reporter, Whitney is exposed as the daughter of wealthy property developers not-so-affectionately referred to as “slum lords,” and Asher's awkward defence reveals inner volatility at play. The show is a reclamation project of sorts, but perhaps not for the community of Española, New Mexico.

The Siegel's aim is to bring their brand of “passive living” to the neighbourhood by using a portion of their profits to subsidise rents and thus stave off some of the issues that gentrification can cause, namely the dispersion of local peoples who can no longer afford to live there. But it's an uphill battle for a couple who are by their very nature, beyond repair. Even Whitney's futuristic-looking Passive Homes, completely covered in mirrors on the outside, are a rip-off of real-life artist Doug Aitken and his Mirage projects. Much like her houses, Whitney only ever seems capable of mirroring emotion, desperately seeking the validation of the local population and Pueblo Tribe members in what are increasingly guilt-ridden exchanges. The tribe also has historic claims to the land around Española, and there's no guarantee they won't, at some point in time, make a claim on the land the Siegels are selling off. A fact no doubt niggling at the back of Whitney's white-saviour mindset.

It's telling how inauthentic Whitney's interactions are. She maintains an air of cool reverence for her Indigenous artist ‘friend' Cara (Nizhonniya Austin), whose work she hopes to feature in her show, but Cara's disgust for Whitney is evident. Still, Whitney rarely breaks character — a contrast to her nasty streak that manifests itself in her relationships with those closest to her. She is by almost every metric the alpha in her marriage and the tiresome sex scene naysayers may have a hard time arguing that the first episode's glorious scene of ‘intimacy' doesn't contribute to the show's wince-inducing marriage dynamic. Fielder's humiliation fetish is on full display – quite literally. However, it remains to be seen if “the cherry tomato boys” will become the new disgusting brothers.

Written by Fielder alongside Benny Safdie and fellow Nathan for You / The Rehearsal writer Carrie Kemper, the show maintains a fairly consistent level of toxicity, brushing up against almost all of the modern-day issues plaguing the United States, including the legacy of stolen lands, the difficulty in honing truly progressive ideas and a Safdie favourite in the corruptive influence of gambling. For avid Safdie fans, the lineage between Good Time and Uncut Gems may not be ostensibly clear, but it is there. It's in Benny Safdie's Dougie, a tragic, semi-washed tv producer. It's in Whitney and Asher's increasing desperation spread out here over multiple episodes and mini freak-outs. It's in the warped and fuzzy visual signature of the show. And it's in Daniel Lopatin's eerie score, closer perhaps to his 0PN days with its guttural, droning noises, shimmering synths and Pantha du Prince-esque keys. There's an overwhelming sense of unease and it all starts with a curse.

In what's supposed to be filler footage, Asher is filmed handing money to a young girl, Nala (Hikmah Warsame), selling cans of soda in a parking lot, but things quickly turn south when the camera stops rolling and Asher tries to take back the hundred-dollar bill – the only bill he had in his wallet. The girl curses him as part of a simple TikTok trend that nevertheless eats away at Asher, poisoning not only his thinking but Nala's too. There's nothing explicitly supernatural about The Curse — much of what happens can be put down to coincidence — and yet it remains unsettling. (One could argue that a focus group tearing apart your entire personality is infinitely more frightening than anything witchcraft could conjure.) Asher and Whitney's unravelling becomes the crux of a strange and unnerving series that slips around grander ideas and themes. With their principles wilting under the stress of constant probing, their relationship and their sense of self become as prone to distortion as their mirrored houses. Both Stone and Fielder infuse their characters with so much hypocrisy and self-doubt that it can be a struggle to see any true nature in them. But in its voyeuristic direction, mostly at the hands of Fielder who directs seven of the show's ten episodes, their internal machinations are generally pretty visible.

It's a level of naked exposure that makes every decision, every good deed, excruciating. A relentless interrogation of the soul. What would be the price tag on your principles? And can anyone actually afford to be ethical? Would you eat the turkey? Whitney eventually realises that in order to control the narrative, she needs Dougie and Cara, and the manipulative power of the media. It's extremely evil stuff, made all the more powerful by emotionally complex performances from Benny Safdie and Nizhonniya Austin alongside typically excellent work from Emma Stone and Nathan Fielder.

In some ways, it's a show that defies explanation — especially considering that the show's final episode is under strict embargo until January 2024. But its frosty, cynical depiction of human morality is both difficult to watch and consistently rewarding. After all, aren't we all just slicing off pieces of ourselves all the time until not much is left?

The Curse is available to stream on Paramount+ from November 10.