1x05 Strange Case

I'm rewriting this review here because my language came off extremely harsh, even though I stand by my sentiments.

I totally understand the intention behind this episode. I respect what it's doing and agree with its message. But there's something extremely uncouth about the way in which retribution is put onscreen here. I have several friends who are survivors of sexual violence. And, as you could imagine, it's a tricky subject for them. Although they feel very strongly about their attackers these sorts of images (even if some form of vengeance) might not do a whole lot more than make them relive their own trauma. And so I am extremely conflicted about this episode (hence, my rating). My feelings toward this episode were so strong that I literally quit watching for nearly nine whole months to reset and calm down.

My general feelings now are definitely less extreme given perspective on artistic intent about this show is functioning within reclamation and flipping the script. I understand that the images are meant to be extreme and meant to evoke strong reactions to underscore the brutality and evils of sexual violence. I'm not totally on board with how that comes to fruition in this episode, but I understand that from the core tenants of this show this was something of a calculated step. I don't really have any solutions for how to alter this, but I genuinely feel as though some sort of content warning should be placed ahead of this because many viewers are likely to have extremely negative reactions because of their own experiences. It seems a bit careless to me, but considering the edgy tone of the series, I get it.

[8.3/10] Ruby’s transformational journey is definitely my favorite of the one-off stories Lovecraft Country has done so far. Her taking a serum that allows her to moonlight as “Hilary Davenport,” a white woman, is not only a sharp sci-fi/horror concept in and of itself, rife with social commentary from the word go, but it also builds on what we already know about Ruby.

We know that she’s aspired to work at the local department store, that she’s frustrated at Tamara, the African American shopgirl who won the job despite Ruby’s efforts, and most of all, she’s frustrated with a system where she has to work harder, be better, and persevere longer because of her color and her gender, and still never get her due. The chance to shed that baggage and see how the other half lives, with greater oddities and more maddening details than she’d even imagined, is a superb premise and place to take the character.

Inevitably, it comes with commentary of what it’s like to be a black woman who can, through this science/magic, inhabit white spaces. There’s her initial bewilderment at having people be “afraid for her” rather than “afraid of her.” There’s her white coworkers who casually demean and debase black people while also fetishizing their culture as fodder for exotic social tourism. There’s the currency of whiteness that makes her first day on the town as Hilary a frictionless one.

We also see the doors opened for someone with Ruby’s credentials and Hilary’s skin, leaving astonished at how the resume that wasn’t good enough to get her hired for an entry-level position before make her assistant manager material now. We hear why she so covets that position, with the way that the smiles at the department store brightened her spirits when things we tough in her childhood We see her astonishment after learning more about Tamara, discovering that she’s under-educated and doesn't meet the level of excellence Ruby holds herself to as a black woman trying to make it in a racist society. And we see that the “Norman Rockwell painting” manager hired Tamara not for her qualifications, but to try to use his power to take advantage of her.

All of this is before Ruby gets a whiff of what’s going on with the Sons of Adam and sees hints of how weird and deep this shit gets. It all works to convey not only the “Be careful what you wish for” quality of Ruby’s desire to have a leg up rather than a knock down, but also the surprises and horrors she discovers when she gets to go behind the curtain she’s been forbidden from for so long.

At the same time, this may be the show’s best achievement in horror. The body horror transformations are genuinely skin-crawling, communicating the unnerving and unnatural atmosphere of what Ruby’s going through. Watching her and, eventually, Christina shed their cocoons is visually striking and disgusting in the best way.

But I also like Montrose’s story. Maybe it’s just having recently watched Paris Is Burning, but it’s really interesting seeing him poke around on the margins of the Chicago drag scene, More than that, I like that there’s a spiritual inversion to Ruby’s story, where Montrose feels like he has to hide who he is and bury it. He won’t kiss his boyfriend because it would be an admission of that true self. And yet, when he’s immersed in a ball, brought out and cajoled into acting more himself, he is happier and freer, eventually finding the joy and self-actualization to bring his boyfriend in for a kiss. It’s a startling romantic moment and potent story for one of the show’s less developed character, and makes for an interesting contrast to Ruby getting to try on being someone she’s not.

The catch is that the overarching story work in Lovecraft Country still doesn’t do much for me. Tic realizing what Montrose did and nearly beating him to death should have more power than it does, as should revelations about what Tic did and left with his lover in Korea. But they’re just the least interesting part of the episode. The same goes for the weirdly hot-and-cold romance between Tic and Leti, not to mention the decoding of the magical pages that Leti photographed.

Similarly, we get hints at the internal jockeying for position within the Order of the Ancient Dawn, as the local chief of police is trying to get the other missing pages in order to gain admittance as a full member, while Christina is doing the same in the hopes that she can join as “William.” It’s...fine? Again, the meta story doesn’t do much for me here.

But Christina’s promises and warnings do. The notion that magic gives you currency to do whatever you want, that it’s a form of literal and figurative empowerment, is the most striking one here. In the end, Ruby gives up her masquerade, and instead uses it to get revenge on the assaulting lech who went after Tamara and denied Ruby a job after all her noble efforts. It’s grotesque and terrifying, but also cathartic to see Ruby emerge from Hilary’s husk, seize that power, and exert it over her oppressor. That journey, from a woman interrupted by the world to the one who’s speaking, is the best one Lovecraft Country has offered so far.