Oh, go ahead, snooty TV critics. Bitch about the plot and character inconsistencies; moan about the poor pacing and outrageous acting. We don’t care, because the one thing you can’t complain about is that nothing ever happens on this show. Say what you will about American Horror Story, shit goes down. None of these Lost-style conversations, where people who need to share information instead trade mysterious quips and knowing looks. Oh, no. None of that “Home Shopping shit” for American Horror Story.
“Dad, I’m dead!”
“Tate, you raped my Mom!”
“Violet, I’m dead too! Shh! It’s okay! I don’t care about my two other babies anymore, especially that Anti-Christ one! YOU’RE my favorite dead baby!”
“Violet? Viv? I’m the only living thing left in this house and I think I’m going crazy! Should I masturbate? Where’s that maid when I need her?”
We have not a fucking clue where any of this is going. Could YOU have predicted, when the season started, that it would end with at least 2/3 of the Harmon family dead? That’s a worse record than any other haunted house movie we can think of. Even that little Exorcist chick got out alive, although she was stuck in the hell of bad sequels with Richard Burton.
One thing’s for sure, so many people, dead and alive, are jockeying to be Mommy Number One to one or the other of Viv’s little bundles of joy that it’s going to be Baby Volleyball in and around that house until the end comes. Maybe they can use all the bodies strewn all over the house (Violet, Viv, the exterminator, we’re sure we’re forgetting some) as a makeshift net.
But you can have your baby sweepstakes. We’ll watch all the homicidal mommies destroy each other from a distance. The highlight of this episode was watching two insane divas go head to head as Constance and Chad flared their nostrils, bared their claws and hissed at each other deliciously. We’re surprised there was any scenery left by the time it was all over. We think Constance and Chad should get their own spinoff, where they come into people’s homes, make over a room together, and viciously tear each other apart without so much as raising their voices. It’ll be like Trading Spaces, except with homophobia, mommy issues, and dead people.
As for the rest of it … well, what do you want us to say? This stuff doesn’t lend itself to critical analysis. If anything, it actively works against any form of critical criteria being applied to it. It’s crazy shit, y’all. That’s the mission. “Let’s throw crazy shit at the audience each week and see how much they can sit through.” Because when you really think about the major plot elements of this show – psychopathic abortion doctors, a rape scene in a gimp suit, a woman dying in childbirth after having been raped and institutionalized, another woman who abuses her developmentally disabled daughter, masturbating maids, masturbating psychiatrists, dead teenage girls (complete with decaying bodies), and school shooters/rapists as romantic figures – it’s kind of amazing that it ever got greenlit for television at all.
So, what happened this week? Crazy shit.
What’s going to happen next? No fucking idea, but it’ll probably be more crazy shit.
Isn’t that awesome?