The Fall of the House of Usher

Mike Flanagan is pretty good. While his blockbusters such as Dr Sleep and Before I Wake have had hints of huge potential and a general understanding of the tricks and techniques of the horror genre, they haven't been to everyone's taste. But the director's time at Netflix has brought us some modern classics, such as The Haunting of Hill House and Midnight Mass, as well as relatively solid imitations in the form of The Haunting of Bly Manor and Midnight Club.

The point is that Flanagan has demonstrated time and time again that he not only knows what works and what doesn't within the precarious genre framework of horror, but that he manages to tell effective stories at the same time. He is, by now, something very special.

Therefore, it's a bit of a praise that I can confidently say that The Fall of the House of Usher is among Flanagan's best, and even though it's not nearly as scary as, for example, Hill House, which still stands as arguably his best work, Usher follows very, very closely behind.

The story is based on a story by legendary author Edgar Allan Poe, written in 1839 under very different circumstances. Flanagan brings the story itself to 2023 and uses it to tell a story closely inspired by the opioid crisis, with the controversial Sackler family at the forefront. They are, in the show's universe, behind the drug "Ligodon", which can easily be seen as a direct counterpart to Oxycontin manufactured by the Sackler company Purdue Pharama (it's recommended that you watch the documentary series Painkiller on Netflix to get up to date on the ongoing case). The Usher family is finally being torn apart by a trial led by state prosecutor Auguste Dupin, but the case is overshadowed by the sudden and mysterious deaths of the Usher family's six children.

The eight-episode series is a mishmash of staggered time periods and narrative detours that weaves an effective tapestry of a family, and in particular a pair of siblings at the top who will do anything to succeed, to gain infinite wealth. It's well thought out, solidly orchestrated and at times even hilarious.

It's perhaps worth noting that Usher is not a horror series in that sense. Yes, there are elements of Hill House, and a few jump cuts provide the adrenaline-pumping shock that comes after the frantic build-up of effective suspense. Flanagan knows what he's doing, even if horror isn't Usher's primary goal.

No, it's more the absurdity that creates comedy and the background that creates creepiness, in the style of The Menu, Barbarian and The Cabin in the Woods. Usher is also a reckoning with pomposity, with tasteless opulence and the natural consequences that come from exploiting others. In other words, the Usher family deserves everything they get, and there's a certain morbid satisfaction in seeing fate fulfil itself.

Mix that with rock-solid cinematography, great music and fantastic performances, many of which come from Flanagan's regular cast he's used throughout his Netflix productions, and you have what some would call a must watch.