In the least shocking news, The Curse will make you squirm in your seat. What else did you expect from the unhinged creative brainchild of Nathan Fielder (The Rehearsal) and Benny Safdie (Uncut Gems)? But even by their standards, the new Paramount+/Showtime series is an irrevocable level of cringe. Led by Fielder, Safdie, and a terrific Emma Stone, The Curse takes on gentrification and white liberalism under the guise of an HGTV reality show satire. And it wastes zero time in setting up its uncomfortable and somewhat shrewd commentary.
The premiere episode is deeply absorbing and weird thanks to smart writing, beautiful production design, slightly exaggerated but captivating performances, and a haunting, creepy background score, among other things. However, The Curse’s debut immediately becomes one of this year’s most—if not the most—tense, disconcerting hours of television. Forget The Bear’s “Fishes” or Succession’s “Connor’s Wedding” or Barry’s “the wizard.” The Curse’s “Land Of Enchantment” takes the cake for inducing anxiety, and major credit goes to Fielder’s calculated direction and the way he builds a sense of unease.
The co-creator and star goes behind the camera to turn the audience into true observers of the bizarre lives of Whitney (Stone) and Asher Siegel (Fielder). One year into their marriage, they’re hosting a reality series about flipping expensive sustainable houses in New Mexico’s Española. They’re also battling allegations of corruption tied to her real estate developer parents (or “slum lords,” as a journalist dubs them). In addition, the couple is trying to conceive a child Whitney doesn’t seem to want, and they’re dealing with Flipantrophy’s skeevy producer, Dougie (Safdie). To top it all off, they’re wondering if a kid truly cursed Asher after he snatched back the $100 he gifted her. Whew.
The Siegels are coping with a lot while trying to maintain appearances, and Fielder takes us along for the ride in perplexing ways. One moment brings extreme close-ups of faces in a manner that’s almost suffocating. The next we’re barely in the same room as the protagonists when they’re having pivotal conversations, and suddenly we’re begging to be let in. Fielder’s style here is to mash found footage and documentary filmmaking into a structured Prestige TV experience. Like it or not, it’s certainly a trip.
It’s not like “Land Of Enchantment” isn’t generally strange. Three minutes into the episode, Dougie plants menthol and drops of water to make it seem like Whitney and Asher’s client, an older woman who has cancer, is crying, much to their horror. There are other moments to set up the show’s visceral tone, like the glimpses into the batshit houses they’re selling, or the fancy jeans store and the coffee shop in Española they’re touting as opportunistic developments for the neighborhood (they’re anything but). Then there’s an insight into Whitney and Asher’s sex life (it’s aided heavily by her vibrator, Steven.) And then there’s the embarrassing interview where Asher yells at a reporter for bringing up his wife’s parents and the painfully lengthy shot of him running around to withdraw $20 to give to the aforementioned kid after he takes the crisp $100 bill back.
Fielder’s lingering camerawork enhances the tension with each passing minute. The absurdity can become too much to handle sometimes. It all comes to a head when Asher has a jaw-droppingly intense chat with his father-in-law, Paul (Corbin Bernsen). Fielder frames both of them in a tiny kitchen surrounded by cherry tomatoes Paul grew with the help of human urine (!). Once again, the audience is not always in the claustrophobic space with them. For the most part, and with stomachs slowly churning, we watch through the window slats as they talk about their small penises, and we witness Paul dole out advice on how to get his daughter pregnant. Awkward is an understatement.
The Curse isn’t afraid of slowly building apprehension. It’s accomplished here because Fielder only teases the full picture, as when Asher is searching for the young girl at the end to give her money. We only partially see him asking about her at the shelter, with the door being left half open. It’s a fascinating way to invoke anxiety in an episode that’s already full of cringe-worthy tension, and it’s all the more memorable for it. Who would’ve thought something would top The Bear’s confined “Fishes”? But here comes The Curse, ready to take the crown. And we’re only on episode one.