I enjoyed season one quite a bit. The story itself is a pretty traditional Bad Seed story, but a well-told one, with enough added lightly-surreal touches to make the puzzle worth solving. The addition of the collective memory angle adds an interesting internet-age twist.
If there’s a weak link in series one, it’s the quality of the acting. I’m sure the budget was small, and most of it seems to be on the screen, which is fine. But Paul Schneider is, frankly, an actor of limited gifts. This is a problem when he’s in 80% of your scenes. None of the rest of the cast is much better
Fortunately, series two improves this on all fronts. The cast is, with a couple of exceptions, above-average.
And I love the idea of a work of art that’s a gateway to this menacing pocket dimension, outwardly normal, but where nothing works as expected. It reminds me a bit of Thomas Ligotti’s excellent short story “The Bungalow House” (not in tone, but the basic idea):
The bungalow house was such a bleak environment in which to make a stand: the moonlight through the dusty blinds, the bodies on the carpet, the lamps without any lightbulbs. And the incredible silence. It was not the absence of sounds that I sensed, but the stifling of innumerable sounds and even voices, the muffling of all the noises one might expect to hear in an old bungalow house in the dead of night, as well as countless other sounds and voices. The forces required to accomplish this silence filled me with awe. The infinite terror and dreariness of an infested bungalow house, I whispered to myself. A bungalow universe, I then thought without speaking aloud. Suddenly I was overcome by a feeling of euphoric hopelessness which passed through my body like a powerful drug and held all my thoughts and all my movements in a dreamy, floating suspension. In the moonlight that shone through the blinds of that bungalow house I was now as still and as silent as everything else.
Can’t wait to finish this series. I plan to blast through as much as possible this weekend.