I have enjoyed most of Flannagan's work with the Midnight Mass likely being his best offering to date. After watching this show, my opinion hasn't changed. While far from perfect, Flannagan's work genreally posses a fair bit of creativity when it comes to defining ghosts and horrors. His biggest weakness seems to be able to definitely conclude the stories that often borders onto theatrical levels of expositions. Still, in most cases the main story is concluded to a satisfying degree regardless of the expositions. Things have gotten better overtime and I was interested to see if he finally figured out how to make a final conclusion to a tale without the theatrics.
Unfortunately, The Midnnight Club is likely the weakest offering and lest conclusive the shows to date. With an interesting premise dealing with terminally ill patients dealing with death, this show works somewhat like an Anthology with short stories building up to a greater encapsulating mystery. Unfortunately, in this case, the show rarely rises to any sort of occasion and we are instead left with mind-numbingly amateurish short stories for ten episodes with just bookending of a greater horror that never convalescences into anything meaningful. I suppose it makes sense in context that the stories are told by normal teenagers and not established authors and I guess the dissatisfaction emulates the disappointment of a life barely lived.
Subverting expectations can be tricky and the replacement has to even more interesting or about the same. Failing that you are bound to alienate your staple fans and possible newcomers. This is a gross misstep in an otherwise a pretty positive track for Flannagan. I suppose the warning signs were there when Netflix suddenly put more focus on the advertising and the first story is a riff on jump scares. I suppose Anya claiming herself to be a tougher audience was just bravado and nothing more.
I will wait and see what the reviews are for the house of the Usher as I am not interested in wasting my time on halfbaked originals.
