HBO’s Lovecraft Country tells a uniquely American story. It is, forgive the pun, an American horror story. It takes place in Chicago and Boston and locations in between, but locations are simply places. Landmarks. Trees and plains. Winding roads and roads that seemingly stretch beyond the horizon. Those are the physical attributes of America, but they’re not necessarily unique to this country. Instead, Lovecraft County anchors itself in the uniquely American thematic territory of racial injustice.
It is an American story because it is steeped in our horrifically tragic history involving our collective treatment of Black Americans. It is set in the 1950s when things such as “sundown counties” and burning crosses where painfully real. As such, the horror within the series, based on the novel by Matt Ruff, exists in two worlds. There are the fantastic elements involving quests and witches and magic and very scary monsters. And then there are the real-world horrors of lynching and racism and very scary white cops with guns – horrors relived again and again in our modern era.
By living in those two worlds, Lovecraft Country never wants for theme or plot. It moves breathlessly through the material, backed by Misha Green’s very strong direction and its fully committed performances. Lovecraft Country‘s exploration of racial injustice emerges from a boldly employed horror lens. If the only fault of the episodes I’ve seen is that they lack any semblance of subtlety, then I’m good with that. Watchmen used the super hero genre to explore the legacy of racism. Lovecraft Country uses horror to rip racism apart limb from limb and serve it on toast.
Lovecraft Country essentially explores the familial past of its central character, Atticus Freeman (the great Jonathan Majors). He arrives in Chicago fresh from an overseas tour of duty in the Korean War with the intent of locating his missing father. Atticus embarks on a road trip to the Boston area based on an educated hunch with his Uncle George (Courtney B. Vance) and close friend “Leti” (the hypnotically great Jurnee Smollett-Bell). I won’t spoil their journey. I will say that the series moves from Mississippi Burning to Aliens with blistering speed.
Given the radical shift from racial drama to gory horror, I’m not entirely sure how audiences will react to Lovecraft Country. It has the feel of a buzzy, “can’t wait until next week” chapter play. Yet, it plays with such a vast array of plots and horror tropes that it’s, at times, hard to pinpoint exactly where exactly it’s headed. At one point, I was convinced it was the spiritual heir to something like The X-Files or The Twilight Zone, but it does have a very specific dramatic through line into each episode. They may feel stand-alone, but they eventually (in the five episodes I’ve seen thus far) appear interconnected in unexpected ways.
Ultimately, I do embrace the series for the clearly visible hand of Jordan Peele, who co-produces with J.J. Abrams among others. Despite its many difficult to watch scenes, it’s a gorgeously crafted series with a top-notch below the line appeal. Plus, in addition to a very strong supporting cast, Majors and Smollett-Bell give excellent performances, both able to command our attention away from the ghoulish goings-on in the background. If the finished product feels a bit too on the nose, then it’s a minor issue. If the next era of great film and television horror finds itself rooted, hugely thanks to Peele, in exploring racial themes, I am all in for it.
Lovecraft Country premieres Sunday night at 9pm ET on HBO.
