The horror genre affords itself a big luxury in that everyday rules and logic don't apply to what's being presented to you, and isn't supposed to. In "American Horror Story," the cornerstone of Ryan Murphy's career, he and his team of writers have relied on this as a given while crafting 11 seasons of FX's popular horror series, meshing together true crime cases and historical references with bizarre and shocking scenarios and imagery that shift from creepy to murderous to paranormal, and often all in the same season.
The "What the hell is going on right now?" aspect of "AHS" has always been a main element of what makes the show so fun because Murphy's loyal fan base has put their faith in the show's ability to sacrifice making any sort of sense for what feels like the more valued outcome, which is walking away from a season having experienced something visually and thematically rattling. No fan of this show expects to go in with a clear map from point A to point B. We don't even necessarily want one. And it's never felt like Murphy has taken our suspension of disbelief for granted by just making things up as he goes along, and never really arriving anywhere. Until now.
There was potential for this to become something that, with only two episodes left in the season, it does not seem logical for it to become.
This entire season of "American Horror Story: NYC" has been going nowhere, slowly. The initial setup of a handful of dangers zeroing in on New York's queer community in the early '80s did not feel altogether fresh to begin with, but there was potential for it to become something that, with only two episodes left in the season, it does not seem logical for it to become.
There's that word again. Logical. Does logic even factor in to trying to piece together larger meaning from a storyline built on the backs of several killers and vague mutating diseases snuffing out queers while there's a tickle planted in our minds that this is all a mournful dark fairy tale about the AIDS epidemic? Or worse yet, could it very possibly be explained away in the end with the trite and lazy move of making us realize that the characters were all already dead and/or having a shared nightmare and/or stuck in purgatory? No. That would not be logical. But what's even less logical is how it could be that I, now a week away from the season's finale, have not arrived at a firm decision on whether or not this season is good, or my least favorite of them all. And that's really saying something because, as I've mentioned in the past, I thought Season 6, "Roanoke," and Season 9, "1984," were real stinkers.
If all this season is doing is giving the gays some big gift by breaking up kills with shots of hot guys almost f**king and then not, on account of all the killing . . . do more.
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In a recent interview with ET, Leslie Grossman, an "AHS" alum who plays Barbara, ex-wife to gay cop Patrick (Russell Tovey) this season, hints that "AHS: NYC" requires several viewings to really pick up on all the nuances, and I really hope that ends up being true.
"This is a season that, in my opinion, deserves two watches," Grossman says. "There's gonna be things that maybe didn't resonate when you first saw it, that when it's all done, the complete story will be very interesting to see from a different angle of knowing what you know."
This statement tricks me into feeling excited about the possibility of a shocking twist coming around the corner next week. Something that will pull everything together and cause me to change my mind about the decision I am regretful to make about the season. It also screams "It was all a dream!" Or some such thing that I'm hoping upon hope will not happen. Having something end in that way is such a "because I said so" method of storytelling. And Murphy is better than that. Or, at least, he was.
"I will say there is a fate that is waiting for everyone and that fate is inevitable," Grossman says further on in her interview. "No matter how hard everybody tries to out run it, it's this thing that's looming and waiting."
Make all of this suffering have been worthwhile. S**t or get off the pot, Murphy.
As a gay person watching this season, which has primarily focused on gay people being killed or, at the very least, being made to suffer in seemingly endless ways, it could be that "looming and waiting" that Grossman mentions that's making this latest installment of "AHS" so unenjoyable. For once, can't our inevitable fate be something other than the impetus for horror? But even as I say that, I'm crossing my fingers that these next two episodes either double down on that horror, killing us in ways that even we could have never imagined, or come out with something really unexpected to make all of this suffering have been worthwhile. S**t or get off the pot, Murphy.
In Episode 7, "The Sentinel," one of the season's main villains gets pushed off the page with the death of the Mai Tai Killer, aka Mr. Whitely (Jeff Hiller). Setting out to rescue Henry (Denis O'Hare), who'd been abducted by the killer last week, Patrick and Gino (Joe Mantello) find him mutilated, but still alive, in a makeshift chop shop that's reminiscent of something from "Hostel," or the "Saw" franchise. While gawking at the centerpiece of the room — the killer's "Sentinel," a Frankenstein creation of seven different dead men's body parts intended to, somehow, be a beacon of justice for the gay community — the Mai Tai Killer sneaks up behind Patrick and Gino and bonks them on the head with a meat tenderizer, then shackles them to operating tables.
After a brief but gory sequence where Henry saws off his own hand to free himself, and then free Gino, the duo interrupt the killer in his attempt to cut out Patrick's heart to be added to his "Sentinel" and then Patrick shoots him in the head. The headline of The Native the next day reads "Hero Gay Cop Tells All." So there. That's done. But, with the Mai Tai Killer out of commission, what is left for these characters to overcome? Oh, just everything the hell else.
Big Daddy, the leather-clad angel of death immune to everything and afraid of nothing aside from a lesbian with a switchblade, is still out there lurking around, as well as the mutating virus, murderous dick with a checkbook Sam (Zachary Quinto), horned ghost gays, and Patrick himself, who is behaving strangely.
In both Episode 7 and Episode 8, "Fire Island," Patrick sees visions of his dead ex-wife, Barbara, which, to me, hints at the fact that Patrick is behind more of this than we think. Maybe there is no Big Daddy at all. Maybe there's just Big Patrick.
And while Theo (Isaac Powell) gets ushered into some gay nether realm after being roofied by Sam and offered up to the spirits of Fire Island like a queer Jesus, dying for the sins of the community, we're left where we were. Wondering.
Villains and viruses aside, I'm placing my bet on Hannah (Billie Lourd) as being the key to whatever mystery this ends up being. She's pregnant, she's sick, and in "Fire Island" – while these preyed-upon and prayed for gays take a break from being hunted to hunt each other during a little getaway – we see her make a phone call to her mom and ask to come over. Maybe the mom character will give us an unexpected cameo from Jessica Lange! Or, if not that, maybe Sandra Bernhard will emerge as the star of the season and her character Fran will use her Tarot cards to papercut everyone to death. As is the norm, we could go anywhere from here. Please let that anywhere be somewhere.
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