Welcome to the first entry in #31DaysofHorror 2020. I’ll be watching and reviewing/discussing 31 separate horror properties in the month of October. I’ve created a calendar this year, subject to change, so you can follow along.

Two Sentence Horror Stories is an anthology horror series inspired by the subreddit of the same name. The series was created by Vera Maio for the CW Seed, the CW’s original free streaming platform, and currently has two seasons. Season 2 is available to stream on Netflix, and that’s the focus of this review.

American horror, like much of American cinema, has a major diversity problem. It’s especially apparent in horror because some awful tropes about the kind of characters that could be played by BIPOC (Black Indigenous People of Color) and their inevitable fate in those films is well documented. There’s a reason why so many modern films and TV shows reference the black character always dying first; for decades, they did, and they might have been the only victims in that film. Other BIPOC are typically otherized, used as a mystical source of knowledge or evil that set up but have no actual role in the plot. It’s a major issue that is slowly being addressed by younger creators.

Two Sentence Horror Stories shows a real easy way to get past the poor representation issues in horror: write and cast for BIPOC in horror. This series is the single best series I’ve ever seen when it comes to presenting a world as diverse as our own. Of the eight episodes in season two, seven episodes star women of color; the other episode is about a gay male character. Further, the series has episodes starring all kinds of ages, from a young girl moving into a new neighborhood to a grandmother fighting an unimaginable evil in her family. It is quite sad that we’re getting close to 100 years of filmed entertainment and projects with writing and casting like Two Sentence Horror Stories are a rarity.

The second season of the show is a horror delight. All eight episodes tackle different styles of horror in 20-or-so minute episodes. The most common story element is home invasion, and even that features very different takes on the subgenre. The inspiration for the show, a community of people writing two sentence horror stories, allows for some strange and wonderful stories to be told.

My biggest issue with the show is the target audience. I’m all for teens and children enjoying horror stories. Two Sentence Horror Stories features a lot of violence against women and plots driven by sexual violence. Only one episode crossed the line for me in that regard, but I don’t know how comfortable I feel with teenagers interacting with those story elements again and again. I bring it up because this is marketed as a show for teenagers and features many unhealthy and downright abusive relationships onscreen without time for actual deconstruction and commentary.

Two Sentence Horror Stories is one of the stronger original anthology series I’ve encountered in recent years. The entire second season can be watched in less time than it takes to see the latest superhero crossover film. I’ve actually reviewed each episode below, with content warnings, so you can make an informed decision on what episodes you’re comfortable watching. There is one episode I will personally never revisit because of the content warning.

Two Sentence Horror Stories Season 2 is streaming on Netflix.

***

ep. 1 “Gentleman”

content warning: violence against women

A single mom decides to try dating again and falls hard for a kind, caring man who loves children. The perspective shifts and you learn that he targets single mothers to judge their parenting skills and do what he thinks is best for their children.

“Gentleman” is a sucker punch to start off the Two Sentence Horror Stories series with. There are layers of mystery I don’t even want to touch on in this review because it would be unfair to the viewing experience. A lot happens in this 20 minute story, the same way a lot of horror can be told in a flash fiction format.

A successful horror short in any format has to rely on shorthand. We’ve seen this kind of story before, or at least close enough to it. The familiarity fills in the gaps, tricking the mind to cover the details there aren’t enough time for. That allows you to focus the energy on the story you want to tell in a lot less time.

“Gentleman” is a masterclass in setting up and twisting expectations. We know what a woman in peril/stalker story should feel like, and the episode leans into that. It never quite settles into those patterns, but we know that’s the story because we recognize enough of the beats and gags. The truth is hiding in plain sight and makes for a disturbing conclusion.

 ***

ep. 2 “Squirm”

content warning: alcohol abuse, sexual assault, gore

An office worker cannot remember everything that happened at a drunken holiday party. She wakes up with a message written on her body and no idea of how it got there.

“Squirm” confirms my suspicions about this series. Two Sentence Horror Stories wants to go there. Why? I don’t know. Anthology formats can bring out unexpected material because there doesn’t have to be a connecting thread beyond the concept of the collection.

There is an interesting story to be told in this episode once you get past the original realization that Keisha was assaulted at the party. She needs to work to survive and she receives a rather ghastly phone call informing her she’s out of sick days. She becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to her but is forced to act like nothing is wrong when surrounded by an office full of suspects. Everyone knows something happened, but they choose silence over support. Even a grievance counselor tells her she has to accept she may never know what happened.

“Squirm” is a horror film about anger and grief. I think the challenge here is that 20 minutes is not enough time to get into the nuance of this. I’m well-versed in revenge and exploitation stories and this firmly falls in the latter. We’re watching this woman suffer through no fault of her own. There is no clear path forward and it’s devastating.

I would honestly recommend skipping this episode entirely if the content warning could be too much. It feels a little too real to that kind of experience to be safely watched unless you feel confident you’re in a space to take in that kind of story. The substance of the story is shock value to get to a psychological horror space and it ultimately doesn’t feel in control of itself or its potential impact.

 ***

ep. 3 “Legacy”

content warning: violence against women, sexual assault (implied), child abuse (discussed), gore

“Legacy” is a J-horror style episode. A widow is being haunted by her abusive husband. She tries to ignore the problem, her mother-in-law tries to appease the spirit of her dead son, and only the young boy in the house can see the ghost.

The difference between “Legacy” and “Squirm” is one of intention. The substance of “Squirm” is a woman suffering because she was abused; the substance of “Legacy” is a woman trying to escape the reach of an abusive relationship that is literally haunting her. “Squirm” lingers in the pain, while “Legacy”’s aim is resolution from the first scene. The biggest difference is I feel safe watching “Legacy.” It’s upsetting, but in a far more controlled way.

The joy of “Legacy” is a 20 minute greatest hits reel of modern Japanese horror. From the surprisingly wet, pale skinned ghost with stringy hair masking his face to an intergenerational conflict over how to address and approach the reality of spirits, “Legacy” hits on it all. The result is a thrilling short horror film that joyfully subverts the expected beats of this style at every turn.

***

ep. 4 “Hide”

content warning: violence against women, gore, elder abuse

Araceli, a professional caretaker, leaves her children under the care of her aunt while she travels to her job caring for a Gracie, an autistic child, and her bedridden grandfather in a mansion. There has been a series of break-ins recently and Gracie’s parents trust Araceli to keep their daughter safe late into the night.

“Hide” is a very good home invasion horror story. There’s a wonderful series of misdirection leading to the actual circumstances of the break-in. Nothing happens how you expect it to. The result is an unsettling horror driven by power struggles through layers of communication.

Araceli is bilingual, though she is most comfortable speaking in Spanish. Gracie’s parents only speak English and talk down to Araceli when giving her instructions like she doesn’t really understand. Araceli is polite and maintains a smile the whole time. Gracie mostly communicates by imitating sounds she hears, though she will call out when she wants to play her favorite game “Hide.” The invaders do not speak at all, but their intentions are clear.

“Hide” is the first episode of the season I think could work just as well, if not better, as a feature film. This one is packed with so much world building and nuance in such a short period of time. It is now one of my favorite horror shorts of all time.

***

ep. 5 “Scion”

content warning: homophobia, gore

A young man undergoes an experimental cancer treatment procedure. The side effects are more than he could ever imagine.

“Scion” is a medical horror that dips its toes into some Gothic tropes along the way. A young gay man moves into a mansion filled with secrets. If he stays the course, he might walk away with a better life, but he needs to survive it first. The world seems to shift around him. Time becomes meaningless. People come and go with no warning and his life is spent more in nightmares than conscious waking hours.

This episode suffers a bit from its own ambition. Taken individually, the scare scenes are effective. In sequence, there’s no breathing room. There’s no time to react to what’s happening. Horror lives on highs and lows, intensity and rest, and this episode spins at the same pace the whole way through.

Being able to anticipate the ending of a horror film is not inherently a bad thing. It can be a sign of great writing and a setup for one final little twist of the knife that sets you off. “Scion”’s ending is telegraphed from the first scene and shouted out whenever there is a scene with dialogue. If you’ve never experienced this kind of story before, it might surprise you, though the metaphor of the treatment is pretty blatant from the beginning.

***

ep. 6 “Tutorial”

content warning: gore, violence against women

A makeup guru trying to film a tutorial has to step away to answer the door, but no one is there. That intruder has already entered the house.

“Tutorial” is experimental aesthetic horror. The episode has a progress bar on the bottom like YouTube, only bright yellow, that tracks how far you are in the episode. The house is that perfect urban neutral style that gets the clicks on social media, complete with impractical string lights and makeshift cozy canopies hanging over the bed. It creates a beautiful and unexpected setting for a home invasion horror.

The episode splits between the actual edited tutorial and the real time horror. Our MUA is fixated on getting the content she needs for her channel, even as she notices things moving about the house beyond her control. Her first reaction to a power failure is “Thank God my laptop still has a full charge.” This is meta horror at its finest, slowly peeling back layers of meaning while letting you watch the seconds tick by until the episode is over.

Where other horror films that play on social media and particularly influencers write those characters as clowns, “Tutorial” lets you know from the jump that our unexpected hero is in control of the game. Karine shifts in and out of that perfect bubbly persona as she has to switch from performance mode to business mode. Nothing will stop her from completing her job, and her job is filming the perfect beauty tutorial.

*** 

ep.7 “Only Child”

content warning: violence against women, violence against children, elder abuse, religious content

A child is being chased by his grandmother. She believes that he has been possessed by the devil and must be freed. The episode flashes back to the past, where the child is first introduced to his grandmother’s practices, explaining the rules of how spirits can enter the body. It doesn’t take long to realize that something has taken control of the young boy.

“Only Child” is a solid spin on evil child horror. You learn soon enough that horror is the art of misdirection. It takes five minutes for the episode to show that the grandmother is correct and the child has been taken by something evil. Even better, one minute later, you learn the true focus of the episode is intergenerational conflicts over child rearing.

This episode plays around with a lot of folklore and closed practices to source its big scares. That does tend to push the boundaries of good taste. The grandmother’s faith is eventually specified as Voodoo, though she is identified as a Haitian woman who speaks Creole, wears a headscarf, carries charms, and has an altar filled with candles, herbs, flowers, and containers in her bedroom closet. The misdirection at the start of the episode is meant to prey on the fear of Voodoo. How else are you meant to react to an older woman screaming about the devil and chasing a young boy around a house?

I do think the episode would work better without the opening sequence. The result would be a lot more respectful while still working as a horror story. It’s scary, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

***

ep.8 “Little Monsters”

content warning: gore, violence against women

Two children befriend the new girl in their apartment complex after she reveals she’s also seen the shape shifting demon preying on children in the neighborhood. They train her on how to survive. That comes in handy when one of her trainers gets kidnapped by the demon and needs to be rescued.

“Little Monsters” hits on one of my favorite styles of horror. There’s a wealth of great films and stories about children having to fend for themselves because the adults around them don’t believe the danger hiding in plain sight. Monsters, ghosts, witches—whatever the evil is, it’s all make believe. Sure, children are disappearing, but it can’t be because of fairy tales, right? The children have to use the skills they’ve learned on the playground to outwit an evil so cunning, adults don’t believe it when they see it.

Perhaps the most refreshing part of “Little Monsters” is seeing a story like this play out where you don’t actually see violent acts carried out on children. The threats are real, but they’re not played out live. The gore is the aftermath of the monster cleaning up as a cold open. The rest is the threat of what could happen. This style of story soars when there is danger, a real sense that something could happen to the children of the story, but never actually crosses the line of showing them harmed onscreen.