Miniseries Review: The Fall of the House of Usher

Spoiler Warning: Minor spoilers are present for The Fall of the House of Usher.

Over the weekend I binge-watched Netflix’s The Fall of the House of Usher. The miniseries is based loosely on the works of American author and poet Edgar Allan Poe, and it seemed like an appropriate watch for the spookiest month of the year. Although I’m by no means a horror aficionado, I enjoyed what this new adaptation had to offer.

Edgar Allan Poe may be well-known in the United States, but he isn’t an author that I’m especially familiar with. Poe’s works aren’t on the curriculum in British schools – or at least they weren’t in the ’80s and ’90s when I was at school. The first time I became aware of anything to do with Poe, in fact, was when an adaptation of his poem The Raven made it into The Simpsons episode Treehouse of Horror! So I’m by no means an expert on the source material for The Fall of the House of Usher.

The R&B singer Usher.
No, not that Usher…

The first thing to say is that The Fall of the House of Usher is not a straight adaptation of the short story of the same name. Rather, the series is an amalgamation of several of Poe’s poems and stories, bringing different works and characters together. The miniseries also abandons the 19th Century for a modern-day setting, and incorporates modern plot points and themes along with those lifted from Poe’s work.

I’m in two minds about this kind of “not-an-adaptation.” On the one hand, as The Fall of the House of Usher proves, taking a story or body of work as the basis for something new can lead to a perfectly enjoyable and entertaining story. On the other hand, though, taking such liberties with the source material basically makes The Fall of the House of Usher its own distinct story – so why did it need to use Poe’s name and characters? It’s a strange thing, in a way – this is a story that could, under the right circumstances, have stood on its own two feet. At its core, The Fall of the House of Usher is kind of like Succession meets Final Destination – a slasher movie in which the family members of a wealthy businessman are picked off one by one.

Mary McDonnell as Madeline Usher in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
Mary McDonnell as Madeline Usher.

Despite its modern setting taking The Fall of the House of Usher far away from Poe’s original works, I did feel a distinctly Poe-like atmosphere throughout the miniseries. Poe is renowned for creating tension, and the way in which the miniseries built towards its characters’ grisly deaths definitely hit the right notes in that regard. The downside of that is that these deaths – and even the manner in which they would happen – was telegraphed ahead of time, robbing the climax of each episode of at least some of its drama and fear factor.

The Fall of the House of Usher had a compelling main character in Roderick Usher, and Bruce Greenwood’s performance is to be commended, as is that of Zach Gilford, who played the character in flashback sequences. The Usher twins both made for entertaining characters, in fact; villains whose schemes were slowly revealed over the course of the story. The same can’t be said for all of the other characters, however, including several of the Usher children.

Bruce Greenwood as Roderick Usher in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
Bruce Greenwood put in a great performance as Roderick Usher.

Part of the theme of the miniseries was to show how wealth, extravagance, and privilege lead to a twisted and self-centred worldview. But with six Usher descendants to create, each of which seemed to embody a different aspect of priviliged debauchery, there wasn’t a lot of time for subtlety in all of these characters. Several of them felt pretty flat and one-dimensional, present to serve a narrative function rather than to be interesting and well-rounded characters in their own right. The characters who were snuffed out in the first couple of episodes in particular fell victim to this, in part because there really wasn’t much time to build up any sense of personality before they had to be killed off.

At the heart of the story was the idea of a “deal with the devil,” an ancient morality tale that has become a trope of the fantasy and horror genres in modern times. This part of the story was one I found a little confusing, though – and it’s quite possible that I’m just not getting it or that I missed something. But, without getting too deep into spoiler territory, by the time the main characters have made their Faustian bargain, they had already committed to going down a dark path.

Carla Gugino, Willa Fitzgerald, and Zach Gilford in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
Madeline and Roderick made a “deal with the devil.”

Verna, the entity responsible for cutting the deal and coming to collect over the course of the story, spoke multiple times about an “alternate” life that the twins and their families might’ve led. But it seems to me that by the time she got to them and made her deal, they’d already betrayed a friend, committed a crime, and taken too many steps down a dark path to possibly turn back. Her bargain may have shielded them from consequences – but did it alter their paths so much?

You’ll have to see what you think after watching The Fall of the House of Usher, but for me, that point certainly left me feeling confused as the credits rolled on the final episode!

Carla Gugino as Verna in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
What did you think of Verna’s offer?

In terms of production values, The Fall of the House of Usher is on par with what you’d expect from a flagship streaming project in 2023. There were a handful of moments across the miniseries’ eight episodes where I felt either CGI or practical effects weren’t quite reaching the level I’d want to see, but they were few and far between. By and large, it was a good-looking series.

There were some digital and practical effects for gory moments and deaths that looked genuinely agonising, and with these moments tending to be the climactic points of each episode, it was important for The Fall of the House of Usher to get them right. I don’t think it’s unfair to compare the brutality of some of the deaths to a film like Final Destination, and several of them had a kind of twisted theme of poetic “justice,” as Verna used a character’s own traits, skills, or sins against them.

A character wrapped in bandages in a hospital bed from The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
Brace yourself for some gruesome and gory moments!

I was surprised to see Mark Hamill outside of the Star Wars franchise – but he did a great job as the shadowy and dangerous lawyer Arthur Pym. Along with the twins and Verna, who was played by actress Carla Gugino, Pym was perhaps the character who felt most lifelike. Many stories – real and fictional – incorporate someone like Pym, and Hamill did a great job at breathing life into someone so fearsome and shady.

As the United States continues to wrangle with an epidemic of opioid addiction, I think we’re going to see more works of fiction that aim to have something to say about the subject. For my money, this aspect of The Fall of the House of Usher wasn’t its strongest suit. It could feel, at points, that the Usher family’s unethical pharmaceutical company and its responsibility for addictive opiate medication was a mere backdrop for other events to play out in front of. Given the severity of the issue, and its lack of prominence in the news in general, this wasn’t great.

Mary McDonnell, Bruce Greenwood, and Mark Hamill in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
The miniseries didn’t always seem to know what to do with its pharmaceutical story.

I didn’t feel that The Fall of the House of Usher had a point to make about opioid addiction that hasn’t already been made. People who have followed the story know that certain drug companies are absolutely responsible – and are continuing to get away with it. The miniseries brings this up, thinking itself to have made a profound statement… but doesn’t really go anywhere with it except to kill off the characters it deems most responsible. There’s something satisfying about that in a kind of anti-billionaire way, but it’s surface-level storytelling without a lot of depth.

Although Poe’s poetry was present throughout the miniseries – and was well-recited and incorporated into the story – there were a couple of places where characters spoke lines written by (or heavily adapted from) Poe’s original work. These moments stuck out to me, and I felt the lines in question were just a bit clunky. The poetic language of the 19th Century clashes with the modern American vernacular used for the majority of the script, so these handful of lines felt out-of-place.

A restored 1849 daguerrotype of Edgar Allan Poe.
Restored daguerreotype of author and poet Edgar Allan Poe, c. 1849.

I’m someone who’s not a big fan of horror – and of jumpscares in particular. Jumpscares always manage to get me, even when I know they’re coming, and I’ve never enjoyed that feeling. The Fall of the House of Usher has several prominent jumpscares – but they were few enough in number across the eight episodes that I didn’t feel they got in the way of my enjoyment. The slower buildup of tension and the dramatic turns in the story were more my style, and I had a good time with that side of the miniseries.

For a fan of horror who’s seeking something fast-paced and with a lot of adrenaline rushes, maybe The Fall of the House of Usher would feel a little too slow. That’s definitely not my take – but I can absolutely see it being a fair point of criticism for someone whose tastes are different from my own.

Samantha Sloyan in The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).
Samantha Sloyan as Tamerlane “Tammy” Usher.

So let’s wrap things up!

The Fall of the House of Usher was an entertaining horror-drama well-suited to this time of year. In an era of franchises and spin-offs, I’m glad that Netflix was able to be convinced to put money into a one-and-done miniseries instead of trying to pad things out and push for a second season. For me, the pacing of the miniseries as a whole was spot-on, and trying to stretch it out too much would’ve been to its detriment.

There was a wonderful musical score backing up solid visual effects and some fine acting performances from both familiar faces and newcomers. And at its core, The Fall of the House of Usher was atmospheric, capturing the essence of Edgar Allan Poe’s work – even as it stepped away from its source material to carve its own path. It perhaps wasn’t as clever as it aimed to be, particularly with its core messages about decadence, billionaires, and the pharmaceutical industry – but not every TV show has to come with a morality play and a message. I enjoyed The Fall of the House of Usher for what it was, and I’m happy to recommend it to anyone looking for something a little bit supernatural and spooky as Halloween draws near.

The Fall of the House of Usher is available to stream now on Netflix. The Fall of the House of Usher is the copyright of Intrepid Pictures and/or Netflix, and the works of Edgar Allan Poe are now in the public domain. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.

The Stand – miniseries review

Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers ahead for The Stand.

I’ve been to Stephen King’s house. Not for any function, of course – nor indeed was I invited. But in his hometown of Bangor, Maine, King’s house is a local landmark with ornate gates befitting the preeminent author of pop-horror. I’m categorically not a fan of horror on screen, either television shows or films. Modern horror tends to veer very strongly into jump-scares – which always unnerve me – or just gore for the sake of gore, which I really have little interest in. But Stephen King straddles the line between out-and-out horror with a creepy weirdness that can, under the right circumstances, be absolutely riveting.

The Stand has already been adapted for television, with a miniseries in 1994 starring Gary Sinise. I put that adaptation on a tongue-in-cheek list that I wrote last year, before I became aware of this latest adaptation. Like my last miniseries review – which was for Marvel show The Falcon and the Winter Soldier – this review is also late to the party! The Stand was broadcast on CBS All Access – since rebranded as Paramount+ – late last year. Though I’ve been meaning to watch it ever since – and it even made my list last June of things I was looking forward to in the second half of 2020 – it’s taken me until now to get around to it.

Promotional poster for The Stand.

I feel more than a little sorry for this adaptation of The Stand, which languished in development hell for years before being commissioned in early 2019. The miniseries was filmed in late 2019 and early 2020, before the extend of the coronavirus pandemic became evident, and I think the mere premise of the series was more than enough to put people off given what’s happening in the world. Having invested in the project, it wasn’t practical for ViacomCBS to just sit on it or dump it – so it ended up being broadcast to a world that, quite frankly, was not in the mood for a show about a viral pandemic that killed everyone. That might undersell what The Stand is – or what it aims to be. But it nevertheless goes some way toward explaining its muted reception.

There were some inspired casting choices. James Marsden channels his inner Gary Sinise to put on a performance that lived up to – and in some respects mirrored – Sinise’s own in the 1994 adaptation. Alexander Skarsgård was fantastic as the villainous Dark Man/Randall Flagg. And Owen Teague – who I confess I wasn’t familiar with prior to The Stand – put in a truly inspired performance as the creepy Harold Lauder.

Owen Teague as Harold Lauder.

Stephen King’s novel Rage, about a shooting at a high school, hit a little too close to home even for the author and has been out of print since the early 2000s. In the characterisation of Harold Lauder, one of The Stand’s villains, I note some familiar themes. Lauder is an outcast, an obsessive, a true-to-type “incel” who blames society and the world around him for his own lack of success. Lauder is an interesting villain in some respects – though he has no real nuance, I think a lot of people are familiar with someone like this; someone who’s generally unsuccessful in life and who’s become bitter, jaded, and even creepy. The Stand throws such a person into the apocalypse, and Lauder’s newfound freedom allows him to follow his own destructive course.

The Stand mixes supernatural horror with post-apocalyptic storytelling, which make a natural pair at certain points, yet tug against each other and fail to gel at others. The miniseries contains some genuinely amazing moments and scenes that rival anything else in the entire post-apocalyptic genre. There’s a sweeping shot of New York City in the second episode, showing smoke from numerous small fires drifting over the city and Central Park, and it was incredibly atmospheric. This kind of silent storytelling, using the camera and some minimal visual effects work, did an amazing job at setting up the world that The Stand wanted to transport us to, and there were numerous examples of this across the nine-episode series.

The very atmospheric shot of New York City burning.

One thing I’ve always been interested in when it comes to post-apocalyptic fiction are the character stories – who survives whatever the event is and why? And what sort of person do we find in the aftermath of such events? The Stand gives us plenty of examples of thoroughly unpleasant people: criminals, liars, thieves, and worse. It also shows us examples of better people: heroes and those willing to do what’s right. Unfortunately that comes at the expense of nuance; The Stand basically splits its characters into goodies and baddies with very little going on in between.

We’ve already talked about Lauder and his characterisation as creepy, bitter, and ultimately murderous. But other villains fall into even more obvious stereotypes: Lloyd is a wannabe-gangster, the Trashcan Man is a pyromaniac, Nadine is the girl who made a deal with the “devil.” And speaking of the devil, the Dark Man himself, Randall Flagg, is a Stephen King mainstay and stand-in for the devil.

Randall Flagg – a.k.a. the Dark Man.

In that sense, nothing about The Stand is subtle. Its narrative centres around the battle of “good versus evil,” and that naturally divides its characters into two camps. Those on the side of good are selfless exemplars of virtue, those on the bad side are basically Satanic stereotypes who revel in every sin imaginable. The Stand setting its villain’s headquarters in Las Vegas – Sin City itself – is likewise about as subtle as a brick to the face.

Not every story has to have complexity and nuance; there’s room for a classic “heroes and villains” narrative even in 2021. But something about the way The Stand leaps headfirst into so many patently obvious plotlines and character arcs makes it less than it could’ve been. There are definitely narrative elements that are unpredictable, but most of the mainstays of both the overarching storyline and the individual stories of the characters felt telegraphed in advance, and that robbed the series of a good portion of its impact and drama.

The choice of Las Vegas as the setting for a story about the demerits of sin was… obvious.

In terms of the soundtrack and music, I have to credit The Stand as being truly fantastic. Practically every one of the nine episodes contains moments of extreme tension, and these moments were elevated significantly by some excellent, understated musical scoring. Music sets the stage for many significant scenes and moments, and the difference in tone it sets between the heroes’ home base in Boulder and the devil’s nest in Las Vegas is huge – and a big part of why the contrast between the two settings works so well. Each episode also features at least one popular song, and the choices here were generally good as well. I particularly liked the use of Melanie’s Brand New Key – it’s a great song in its own right, but the way it was used at the end of one of the episodes gave it a strangely creepy, almost otherworldly feel.

Cinematography was likewise pretty good across the board. There were some really excellent artistic shots – I mentioned the New York City one above, but also a shot of Frannie and Harold split through a wall was fascinating, as well as numerous silent (or practically silent) moments featuring Nick, the deaf character, which really added to the sense of immersion. Nick’s scene with the piano, in which we could see the inner workings of the piano but not hear the notes, was inspired, and something I would’ve expected to see in a series like Hannibal – another horror series with a strong artistic slant to its cinematography.

One of the very artistic moments involving Nick and the piano.

The way The Stand uses light was interesting. At first, I felt that the way several different characters seemed to leave lights on and candles burning was just typical post-apocalyptic/horror fare – a cheap way for villains to track or find them. But there’s something more to it than that, and the way the series as a whole used light, and particularly uncovered, obvious light, feels like a metaphor. The Stand is a series flooded with religious imagery, and there’s something almost poetic about seeing many of the heroic characters as representatives of “the light” against the forces of the Dark Man.

There was only one real miss in terms of visual effects, and it came in the final episode. In a sequence that was basically fully-animated, the camera panned over the ruins of Las Vegas to focus on Flagg’s trademark badge, and the whole thing fell into the so-called “uncanny valley,” where the CGI work just wasn’t quite believable enough. It wasn’t awful by any means, and would compare favourably to anything from ten years ago, even in cinema, but in a series that otherwise did its visual effects well, it has to go down as the weakest moment.

The CGI sequence that I felt didn’t quite stick the landing.

I’m not a religious person, and perhaps someone who is would get something more out of The Stand, which relies heavily on Christian apocalypticism for the theme underpinning its main story. At the same time, some of these religious themes work against the narrative – or at least the setting. The Stand wants to be bleaker than it manages to be; a post-apocalyptic tale of desperate people driven to do evil things and kill themselves. Yet the use of Christian imagery, which ramps up to near-continuous after about the halfway point, tugs The Stand in the other direction, softening some of those dark edges. What results is a series that’s confused.

The Stand wants to be two things at once: post-apocalyptic horror and supernatural horror with strong religious themes. As noted above, these two can make a natural pair, but The Stand doesn’t nail the pairing on every occasion, and there are times when the religious themes work against the bleaker, character-centric story about the world after an apocalyptic event. The theme of hope, which is so often present in post-apocalyptic fiction, is undermined by the sense that many of the protagonists have that their quest is anointed by an all-powerful interventionist god.

Mother Abigail’s role as the prophet of a very active and involved god gave hope to many of the characters – and led to a less satisfying narrative as a result.

Hope in post-apocalyptic stories works when it seems like characters have little to no reason to cling to it, yet through sheer force of will and strength of character, they find ways to do so. Some characters may revel in small victories – like the character of Tallahassee in Zombieland who finally gets a Twinkie (a kind of small cake) after craving one for the whole film. Others find meaning in their companions, fellow survivors, or family members – like Viggo Mortensen’s character in The Road, for example. The Stand drops all of its protagonists into a setting where they never genuinely question their status as “god’s chosen” and their hope for a better future stems from that. But that foundation, while somewhat novel, loses something significant as a result – and that something unfortunately happens to be what I personally find one of the most interesting and appealing things about post-apocalyptic stories.

Frannie’s snap decision at the beginning of the final episode to return to Maine felt like it came out of nowhere; an arbitrary character move to give the story a “shock” as it entered its endgame. Though the characters were, as I explained above, pretty standard heroes and villains, they were generally consistent in the way they were written and in their motivations. Frannie left Maine with Harold initially in search of others, and having found them, made friends, and begun to build a new civilisation in Boulder, seems far too quick to throw it away for the sake of what? Homesickness? If she’d mentioned Maine even once or twice in previous episodes it would at least feel like there’d been hints she was feeling this way. Sometimes when a story knows the endgame it wants to reach, some character choices necessary to get there can feel completely arbitrary, and Frannie’s desire to return to Maine – without even really providing a reason why – definitely falls into that category.

I wasn’t sold on Frannie’s out-of-nowhere decision in the final episode.

Though not really overt, there was one significant political theme that I picked up in The Stand. In the character of Flagg we have a dictator – someone who rules through fear, as characters like Glen note. The way Flagg draws his supernatural powers, embodied by his ability to levitate, from the worship and fear of his subjects could be read as a commentary on the way any dictator’s power relies on the people around them continuing to “feed” them with that fear. Or to put it another way: people have the power, even when it seems like a truly evil tyrant is in charge. We see this as Larry, Glen, and Ray’s challenge to his authority quickly inspires others and leaves him significantly weakened.

I’m a big fan of the Star Trek franchise, as you may know if you’re a regular around here. Star Trek: The Next Generation in particular is a favourite series of mine, and Whoopi Goldberg’s role as Mother Abigail had more than a little of her Star Trek character of Guinan in it. Guinan serves as a friend and guide to Captain Picard, and in particular her role in episodes like Q Who and Time’s Arrow, as well as the film Generations lines up perfectly with Mother Abigail’s place in The Stand. Though this isn’t intentional, of course, as a Trekkie I just find it interesting to note when former Star Trek stars take on new roles that are somewhat similar! Goldberg’s performance was excellent, and she brought a real weight or gravitas to the role of Mother Abigail that was much-needed.

Whoopi Goldberg as Mother Abigail.

The Stand attracted some controversy in the months before its broadcast for casting a non-deaf actor in the role of deaf character Nick. Nick’s role in the show does involve some scenes where he can hear and speak, and for that reason creator Josh Boone defended the decision. While I would say that I generally don’t subscribe to the camp that says actors can only play roles if they meet certain criteria, in this case it would have been relatively easy to cut the couple of scenes in which Nick speaks, or to replace them with signed scenes. It would take away a tiny bit of the supernatural aspect of Mother Abigail’s abilities, but there was more than enough of that through the rest of the show that I don’t think it would’ve made a significant difference. With that being the case, a deaf actor could have certainly taken on this role.

As someone who is disabled, I would be quite happy with an able-bodied actor playing a disabled role – so long as it was done tastefully and it doesn’t feel as though anyone has been excluded. Likewise with characters who are asexual or who are in between male and female on the gender spectrum; I think so long as it doesn’t stray into voyeuristic territory, actors can take on a wider variety of roles. There are great actors who are deaf, disabled, and in other categories, and I hope they find opportunities to play characters as well. I don’t want to see anyone’s career options limited, and as mentioned in this case I think the couple of scenes where Nick spoke could have been cut or changed to accommodate a deaf actor. As a general point, though, I’m okay with actors from many different backgrounds being able to take on a variety of roles. Perhaps this is something we should go into more detail in on another occasion, as I feel it could be an entire essay in itself, and I don’t want to spend too much time on just this one point on this occasion.

Another promotional poster for The Stand.

So I think we’re about at the end of my review. The Stand was interesting, and had some genuinely great moments. It was also a flawed production that didn’t get everything right and could feel, at certain moments, that it was trying to be two very different things at the same time. In part that fault lies with the source material – Stephen King’s novel. But it also lies with the adaptation and the way in which the novel was put to screen.

Despite nominally falling into the horror genre, The Stand won’t be giving me nightmares any time soon! It was tense at points, and there was some distinctive Stephen King supernatural weirdness, but nothing that I felt was terrifying or frightening. There was some gory violence and some gratuitous sex scenes that really didn’t add much to the story. But there was also some fantastic musical scoring and cinematography, as well as some great acting performances that elevated the series, making it better than it could’ve been.

I’m in no hurry to re-watch The Stand now that I’ve seen it. And with so many interesting film and television projects on the horizon between now and Christmas, I daresay it will go back on the shelf (or rather, Amazon Video’s shelf) for quite some time. But I’m glad to have finally got around to seeing it more than six months after its debut! Now, what should I watch next?

The Stand is available to stream now on Paramount+ in the United States and on Amazon Video (for a fee) in other countries and territories. The Stand is the copyright of ViacomCBS and/or Vertigo Entertainment. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.