Lee stands trial for murder. Lee Harris, the lone survivor of Return to Roanoke: Three Days in Hell, agrees to an interview live on television, the Lana Winters Special.Lee stands trial for murder. Lee Harris, the lone survivor of Return to Roanoke: Three Days in Hell, agrees to an interview live on television, the Lana Winters Special.Lee stands trial for murder. Lee Harris, the lone survivor of Return to Roanoke: Three Days in Hell, agrees to an interview live on television, the Lana Winters Special.
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I binged the entire season today, and was surprised how much I enjoyed the last episode given the fact that it was the rated the lowest of the season. It becomes increasingly clear that the truth about the house and the property is going to go on, continuing to not be believed as anyone and everyone who goes there (media, police, probably army too if they tried) will not make it out alive and if they did, the world would not believe them. The final scene of the episode really draws this idea home and gave me shivers, as the butchers crowd is approaching the emergency services and media who are at the house.
"The living cling to life above all, but the trophy misprized is to die in peace"
A little bit inspired by "Hostel", a little bit by "Blair Witch", a reality show in a haunted house, bloodthirsty ghosts and all-out carnage. I can't stand movies made in a (semi/fake)documentary style, I usually either skip them or turn them off very quickly, but I have to admit that this frankenstein of the season held my attention and I'd say it's the scariest so far.
The only major complaint is that they brought the most widespread flaw of the horror genre - characters who behave completely illogically and irrationally and make increasingly wrong moves one after another, which eventually (or often at the beginning) drive them to death - to the brink of imbecility. No one who lived in a haunted house and survived what the protagonists did in the first half of this season would return to it again for anything in the world, so their voluntary return to hell in the second half of the season is foolishness that makes the whole story unbelievable and therefore less effective. Fortunately, the acting, effects, and overall atmosphere are good enough to keep the scares at an enviable level.
7/10.
A little bit inspired by "Hostel", a little bit by "Blair Witch", a reality show in a haunted house, bloodthirsty ghosts and all-out carnage. I can't stand movies made in a (semi/fake)documentary style, I usually either skip them or turn them off very quickly, but I have to admit that this frankenstein of the season held my attention and I'd say it's the scariest so far.
The only major complaint is that they brought the most widespread flaw of the horror genre - characters who behave completely illogically and irrationally and make increasingly wrong moves one after another, which eventually (or often at the beginning) drive them to death - to the brink of imbecility. No one who lived in a haunted house and survived what the protagonists did in the first half of this season would return to it again for anything in the world, so their voluntary return to hell in the second half of the season is foolishness that makes the whole story unbelievable and therefore less effective. Fortunately, the acting, effects, and overall atmosphere are good enough to keep the scares at an enviable level.
7/10.
"Chapter 10" of American Horror Story: Roanoke, directed by Bradley Buecker, serves as the ambitious yet divisive season finale that attempts to tie together the sprawling narrative threads through a visceral, chaotic, and thematically packed conclusion. This episode embodies the series' hallmark mixture of grotesque horror, psychological trauma, and meta-commentary, resulting in a complex yet sometimes muddled cinematic experience.
The episode opens in the aftermath of the harrowing "Three Days in Hell" reality show, focusing heavily on Lee Harris, the lone surviving figure reeling from unimaginable trauma. The narrative then shifts into a media circus, with an onslaught of tabloid attention and sensationalized news coverage portraying Lee as a monstrous figure, while the cannibalistic Polk family is alternatively demonized and humanized. The introduction of Lana Winters - a returning character from American Horror Story: Asylum - adds a layer of chilling gravitas, especially through her intimate and probing interviews with Lee, revealing psychological rawness behind the public spectacle.
Lee's trial becomes a central axis for the episode, juxtaposing the media's frenzied voyeurism with deeper explorations of survival guilt, moral ambiguity, and the warping effects of trauma. The episode's script intricately weaves courtroom drama, pained personal reflections, and supernatural elements, such as the elusive Scáthach witch and spectral hauntings, culminating in Lee's chilling transformation and embrace of her darker nature. These sequences balance intense character drama with the show's signature supernatural horror, offering a layered depiction of victimhood and empowerment.
Buecker's direction captures the chaos and claustrophobia of the media circus with kinetic camerawork, jump cuts, and stylistically varied sequences that mimic tabloid sensationalism and reality TV formats. The episode's pacing oscillates between breathless intensity during violent events, and slower, tense exchanges in interviews and court scenes, reflecting the dizzying emotional spectrum experienced by Lee and other characters. Cinematography employs stark contrasts-harsh fluorescent lighting in media settings versus shadowy, intimate lighting in scenes of haunted reflection-enhancing mood shifts throughout the episode.
Performances are pivotal to the episode's impact. Angela Bassett's Lee conveys a haunting blend of fragility, defiance, and eventual monstrous resolve, anchoring the finale's emotional core with compelling depth. Kathy Bates's portrayal of Agnes and the Polk clan retains a counterpoint of raw menace. Sarah Paulson's Audrey and the few remaining survivors contribute to the cumulative weight of trauma and loss. The return of Jessica Lange's iconic Lana Winters offers a powerful meta-reference to the franchise's history, elevating the episode with nostalgic gravitas and intense chemistry during her exchanges with Lee.
Thematically, "Chapter 10" continues Roanoke's preoccupation with trauma's long shadow, the performance of victimhood, and the spectacle inherent in horror storytelling. It interrogates how personal horror is commodified by media and consumed by the public, reflecting broader societal obsessions with celebrity downfall, truth versus spectacle, and justice. The conflation of supernatural malevolence with human monstrosity-manifest in the Polk family and Lee's transformation-explores nuanced moral landscapes within horror's binary good-versus-evil framework.
While the episode's ambition is undeniable, reception has been mixed. Criticisms often center on the finale's disjointed narrative and tonal shifts, with some viewers finding the shifts from intense horror to sensationalized media parody jarring and undermining emotional investment. The layering of meta-commentary and genre pastiche sometimes muddles pacing and clarity, leaving the conclusion feeling rushed or unfocused. Conversely, fans have applauded its boldness, willingness to subvert expectations, and its emotional and thematic depth.
Cinema and television scholarship might contextualize this finale within the trajectory of postmodern horror television, which blurs lines between reality, fiction, media critique, and psychological terror. The episode calls to mind works like Scream and The Blair Witch Project in its meta-awareness, while also engaging in intertextual dialogue with earlier American Horror Story seasons through Lana's cameo and lingering thematic motifs of haunted legacies and survival horror.
"Chapter 10" is a fittingly provocative if imperfect chapter in American Horror Story: Roanoke. Its willingness to confront complex themes through intertwined horror subgenres and media forms will reward viewers attentive to its layered storytelling, even if some narrative and tonal rough edges detract from cohesion. The episode powerfully closes the season's arc on trauma, survival, and the haunting nature of legacy, challenging audiences to consider the multifaceted nature of fear-both personal and cultural-in the age of media spectacle.
The episode opens in the aftermath of the harrowing "Three Days in Hell" reality show, focusing heavily on Lee Harris, the lone surviving figure reeling from unimaginable trauma. The narrative then shifts into a media circus, with an onslaught of tabloid attention and sensationalized news coverage portraying Lee as a monstrous figure, while the cannibalistic Polk family is alternatively demonized and humanized. The introduction of Lana Winters - a returning character from American Horror Story: Asylum - adds a layer of chilling gravitas, especially through her intimate and probing interviews with Lee, revealing psychological rawness behind the public spectacle.
Lee's trial becomes a central axis for the episode, juxtaposing the media's frenzied voyeurism with deeper explorations of survival guilt, moral ambiguity, and the warping effects of trauma. The episode's script intricately weaves courtroom drama, pained personal reflections, and supernatural elements, such as the elusive Scáthach witch and spectral hauntings, culminating in Lee's chilling transformation and embrace of her darker nature. These sequences balance intense character drama with the show's signature supernatural horror, offering a layered depiction of victimhood and empowerment.
Buecker's direction captures the chaos and claustrophobia of the media circus with kinetic camerawork, jump cuts, and stylistically varied sequences that mimic tabloid sensationalism and reality TV formats. The episode's pacing oscillates between breathless intensity during violent events, and slower, tense exchanges in interviews and court scenes, reflecting the dizzying emotional spectrum experienced by Lee and other characters. Cinematography employs stark contrasts-harsh fluorescent lighting in media settings versus shadowy, intimate lighting in scenes of haunted reflection-enhancing mood shifts throughout the episode.
Performances are pivotal to the episode's impact. Angela Bassett's Lee conveys a haunting blend of fragility, defiance, and eventual monstrous resolve, anchoring the finale's emotional core with compelling depth. Kathy Bates's portrayal of Agnes and the Polk clan retains a counterpoint of raw menace. Sarah Paulson's Audrey and the few remaining survivors contribute to the cumulative weight of trauma and loss. The return of Jessica Lange's iconic Lana Winters offers a powerful meta-reference to the franchise's history, elevating the episode with nostalgic gravitas and intense chemistry during her exchanges with Lee.
Thematically, "Chapter 10" continues Roanoke's preoccupation with trauma's long shadow, the performance of victimhood, and the spectacle inherent in horror storytelling. It interrogates how personal horror is commodified by media and consumed by the public, reflecting broader societal obsessions with celebrity downfall, truth versus spectacle, and justice. The conflation of supernatural malevolence with human monstrosity-manifest in the Polk family and Lee's transformation-explores nuanced moral landscapes within horror's binary good-versus-evil framework.
While the episode's ambition is undeniable, reception has been mixed. Criticisms often center on the finale's disjointed narrative and tonal shifts, with some viewers finding the shifts from intense horror to sensationalized media parody jarring and undermining emotional investment. The layering of meta-commentary and genre pastiche sometimes muddles pacing and clarity, leaving the conclusion feeling rushed or unfocused. Conversely, fans have applauded its boldness, willingness to subvert expectations, and its emotional and thematic depth.
Cinema and television scholarship might contextualize this finale within the trajectory of postmodern horror television, which blurs lines between reality, fiction, media critique, and psychological terror. The episode calls to mind works like Scream and The Blair Witch Project in its meta-awareness, while also engaging in intertextual dialogue with earlier American Horror Story seasons through Lana's cameo and lingering thematic motifs of haunted legacies and survival horror.
"Chapter 10" is a fittingly provocative if imperfect chapter in American Horror Story: Roanoke. Its willingness to confront complex themes through intertwined horror subgenres and media forms will reward viewers attentive to its layered storytelling, even if some narrative and tonal rough edges detract from cohesion. The episode powerfully closes the season's arc on trauma, survival, and the haunting nature of legacy, challenging audiences to consider the multifaceted nature of fear-both personal and cultural-in the age of media spectacle.
Maybe I wouldn't mind the fact that the finale completely lacked any and all tension of that wasn't something it was trying to pull off. Feels like I wasted 10 hours.
Disappointing to conclude that I had wanted a season of American Horror Story to be over already after the first five episodes. I have been a great fan of this show during all seasons, but this one let me down. This season started off very well with the Roanoke story. Interesting angle to have it re- enacted, decent thrills and suspense in the story line. And then it was all over after a few episodes and a second season started within the season, with too many TV-makers inside jokes, eventually turning into a worse version of Blair Witch project with its poor camera work, poor sound, poor story line and irrelevant content. This final episode closes off the season with even more irrelevant content, fragmented across uninteresting rip-offs of TV shows casting yet another third-party view on what happened. All this could have been done in an entertaining, intelligent way, but the producers just blew this season. If this is the inspiration they have left, I am very worried about the quality of the next season.
Did you know
- TriviaThe Spirit Chasers apparently visited Briarcliff.
- ConnectionsReferences 60 Minutes (1968)
Details
- Runtime
- 41m
- Color
- Sound mix
- Aspect ratio
- 16:9 HD
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