Not all monsters lurk in dark alleys. Sometimes they thrive in online fansites, studio sets or within the hearts of coworkers. In this trio of recent releases, the dark side of the entertainment industry comes into focus as it becomes clear that monsters can come in all shapes, sizes and three-piece suits.
Woman of the Hour (Netflix)
The true story of a serial killer who competed for love on a nationally broadcast game show is the subject of a true crime thriller from Pitch Perfect songbird Anna Kendrick, who steps behind the camera for the first time in Woman of the Hour to tell the story of murderer Rodney Alcala, who took to primetime to find his next victim.
Based on the very strange, very scary, true(ish) story of a butcher who was cast as a bachelor on the hit show The Dating Game, Woman of the Hour is mostly told from the point of view of Sheryl, played by Kendrick, a singleton who narrowly escapes a harrowing fate after “winning” a romantic date with the “Dating Game Killer.”
Prior to playing the part of a contestant, Sheryl was a struggling actress who couldn’t seem to catch a break. When her agent signs her up for The Dating Game, she is less than thrilled to be a “bachelorette” looking for televised love. Introduced as the “Woman of the Hour,” she meets her potential suitors and asks them questions, unaware that each innuendo inches her closer to danger.
Written by scribe Ian McDonald, the sordid story is told through analepsis, with Sheryl’s ordeal on the ’70s Day-Glo set as the main narrative interwoven between flashbacks of Rodney and his victims from various years. A big, bad wolf in fringe and a butterfly collar, the story harkens back to several women who fell victim to Rodney’s charisma and false promises of a photoshoot.
In her role helming the show, Kendrick makes the choice not to glorify the violence of Rodney’s crimes but to concentrate on the impending sense of dread that encapsulates the narrative. Acts of violence are shown from afar, are briefly displayed, or are implied, so as to not exploit the victim or the act for the sake of entertainment. Instead, Kendrick opts to focus on the tragedy and lamentable outcome of events after women’s concerns are pushed aside. This is best reflected in the character of Laura (Nicolette Robinson), a Cassandra-esque audience member whose friend was last seen in the company of Rodney and whose warnings are ignored by, well, everyone.
In the lead roles, Kendrick’s acting efforts are well matched by the talented Daniel Zovatto, who as maniac Rodney, can flip a switch at the drop of a hat from ’70s denim-clad charmer to savage slayer of single women.
Woman of the Hour is a well-made, well-crafted monster movie that uses its true crime narrative to highlight the horror of what can happen when women’s voices are disregarded. As Kendrick punches her way out of the rom-com genre many know her for, she creates a cautionary tale about ignoring women and their concerns — a subject matter that still holds as much relevance today as it did when paisley was in style.
Ultimately, Kendrick and McDonald create a cautionary tale with a strong message for moviegoers: Trust your gut. Bad vibes are there for a reason. And if people refuse to hear you, scream.
Rivals (Hulu)
What would you be willing to do to be the best? Or for power? Are you willing to sacrifice your morals? Your family? Love? Welcome to Rivals and the cutthroat world of British TV broadcasting in the ‘80s.
Based on Dame Jilly Cooper’s hot ‘n’ heavy best-selling novel, Rivals is the fictionalized story of the behind-the-camera battles at the privatized Corinium television station in 1986, which was ripe with brutal backstabbings galore and torrid affairs aplenty. At the center of the story are a trio of manchildren in bespoke suits, led by David Tennant as the wickedly corrupt TV franchise topper Lord Tony Baddingham who goes head-to-head with both the UK’s Minister of Sport and the township of Rutshire’s resident manwhore Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell), and family man Declan O’Hara (Aidan Turner) — a talking head recruited by Baddingham in a ploy to annoy Rupert and boost Corinium.
Fueled by catchy tunes of the ’80s and bouncy dialogue to match, the miniseries sexcapade exudes charm and wit. Brimming with romantic liaisons and enough rutting to put Porky’s to shame, Rivals manages to merge the intrigue of Brit broadcast politics with the cheekiness of an ’80s sex romp with scene-stealing performances from its cast to create a saucy, spicy adaptation that heralds the source material perfectly.
And while full-frontal nudity mixed with lively drama is always fun, the performances in Rivals are what make it riveting. After all, what’s better than a truly unhinged David Tennent at the top of his game? Sure, he’s great as a Gallifreyan madman with a box or a hot-headed demon with a Bentley, but when the Scot actor gets to tap into his dark side, well, audiences are in for a treat.
Rivals is a risqué romp filled with clever jabs and outstanding performances that offer the right amount of conflict mixed with kink to create a period piece that grabs the attention of audiences. In the words of the venerable bard Dave Gahan — after that first episode, we just can’t get enough.
Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara (Hulu)
Imagine, as most of us do, that you are a famous star. Beloved by many, fans clamor just to be near you. Then imagine that the fame you spent your entire life working towards turns on you, transforming you into a target. Then imagine the same unseen evils that targeted you are now going after your fans, who now blame you. That is what happened to alt-rock sister duo Tegan and Sara. Best known for the ditties “Closer” and “Back In Your Head,” the twin rockers found themselves the marks of malicious malcontents who turned the lives of the musicians and their fans upside down for over a decade.
Erin Lee Carter’s Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara explores the appalling true story of the manipulation and exploitation of the queer musicians and their fanbase. For years, dozens of fans thought they were having a meaningful relationship with “Tegan,” as stolen personal info was used to catfish the devoted and create emotional turmoil.
The destruction of relationships, trust and the mental well-being of both the artists and their fanbase is slowly unpacked for the audience as the story unfolds, allowing viewers to understand the full horror of the situation. Like shows such as Swarm, which shows the extreme side of celebrity worship, and Baby Reindeer, which terrifies with its stalking story, Fanatical exemplifies how obsession can devastate the lives of many even if the focus is on the few. While the hunt for Fake Tegan, AKA “Fegan,” is fascinating, it does little to help the emotional upheaval caused by the online offenders which created bedlam in the lives of the fans and the musicians.
Fanatical is a harrowing tale about the nefariousness of celebrity fandom and the effects of a grifter on a community. Even as Tegan and the duped fans work through their pain via storytelling, it will be a while before there is any significant healing as they continue to walk with the ghost of their shared trauma.
