Teacup

As soon as the blue line appeared, I immediately thought of "lost" and "under the dome", two other shows where people are trapped someplace and there is some mysterious danger they must avoid.

This is very poorly written because there are lots of scenes where the simple question of "why" is never asked and that's how they string us along like they have done before.

It's not natural for humans not to ask obvious questions.

It takes more than some spooky music to not notice how lazy the writing is.

This show has potential because of the tension between the characters but the isolation/mystery element is just another run at an island or a dome.

I'll still watch it but the slow pace won't keep my attention for too long. It's too boring at this pace, and I am not as dumb as they must take me for.

I watch for Yvonne Strahovski. There's something about her - a magnetism, a quiet force - that makes you think she should be headlining films, not locked into roles on TV. Still, she owns every scene as Mrs. Waterford in "The Handmaid's Tale," the kind of role that gets under your skin and stays there. Then there's "Teacup." It wants to be eerie, unsettling, even grotesque. Instead, it drags, provoking yawns where there should be tension, eye-rolls in place of chills. Like the moment they buy the kid's story, then start throwing around the title "Assassin" like it's a game. Sure, the show is reaching for a place alongside the heavyweights of dystopian drama, but it misses the mark - plot, dialogue, even the characters - just shy of hitting the right notes.

Teacup on Peacock is yet another example of today's TV trend-taking what could be an engaging story and stretching it over eight episodes so slowly that you can practically watch the plot evaporate. The first six episodes are a masterclass in how to take ordinary, daily activities-making tea, staring into space, exchanging sighs-and somehow expect them to build suspense. It's the TV equivalent of watching paint dry, but with occasional brooding glances to remind you something "big" might happen.

And finally, when it all comes to a head in the last two episodes, you realize it's just more of the same, only louder and faster. The series wraps up by leaving just enough plot threads hanging-like an overworked screenwriter forgot to delete their sticky notes-to suggest a possible season two. Because why answer questions now when you can dangle the carrot of resolution just out of reach forever?

In the end, Teacup proves that modern screenwriting has become the art of saying nothing at great length. It's binge-watching at its worst: a narrative that's as lukewarm as the title and filled with enough empty space to make you question your life choices.

At first I was not sure what this was about and stumbled across Teacup when looking for the next From episode. I was intrigued by the opening scene as I enjoy thriller and horror. As the first episode continued it reminded me of Color out of Space where the animals are starting to become aware of a benevolent entity. The continued mystery and gore in episode 2 has definitely left me wanting to know what is happening next. There were also remnants of the Thing in some of the CGI which is one of my favorite movies. I recognized most of the actors from years of watching too much TV and I am enjoying their performances so far.

Overall it has drawn me in and left me wanting more.

Maggie Chenoweth (Yvonne Strahovski) and James Chenoweth (Scott Speedman) run an animal clinic on a rural Georgia ranch. They live with his mother Ellen Chenoweth (Kathy Baker) and their two kids. Ruben Shanley (Chaske Spencer) and his son Nicholas Shanley bring over their injured horse. Donald Kelly (Boris McGiver) and his wife arrive hunting for a rabid dog. A man in gas mask sprays paint on the ground around the Chenoweth ranch. Lights go out. Cars don't work. Somehow everybody is trapped within the painted circle.

The premise is reminiscent of Under the Dome. There are some interesting choices. Some are awkward. Some are interesting. One or two things are annoying. At the end of the day, there is not enough new and compelling to overcome the derivative feeling. It is one season and done.