Reviews
‘The Terror: Devil in Silver’ Is A Primal Psychological Assault Against Unstoppable Evil [Review]
Anthology horror, especially the vehicles that tell one story across a season of television, has the freedom to explore such creative territory. The Terror is a bit of a horror anthology anomaly that doesn’t always get its due, despite having a flawless record for disturbing, disruptive horror that cuts to the core of the human condition.
The oppressive and abusive nature of psychiatric hospitals is well-trodden territory for the horror genre. The Terror: The Devil in Silver, based on Victor LaValle’s novel, fearlessly embraces the invasive horrors of these psychiatric institutions in order to tell an unnerving new story that depicts a very visceral, timely side of terror that, in some respects, is the most disturbing of the anthology series’ three seasons. The Terror, in all its supernatural scares and traumatic trickery, has never been more back.
In the series’ third season, Pepper (Dan Stevens), a struggling musician with financial troubles and a short temper, finds his anger getting the better of him. Pepper is sent to New Hyde Hospital, a questionable and seemingly forgotten mental health facility, for 72 hours. What begins as a perfunctory hold becomes something considerably more concerning.
The Terror intentionally keeps Pepper’s character at a bit of an arm’s length distance, and not much of him is seen before his admission at New Hyde. Nevertheless, there’s enough of Pepper provided to still get a solid sense of who he is and what matters to him before he’s swallowed whole. Pepper’s chivalrous instincts kick in, and he tries to liberate his fellow New Hyde peers as he gets to the bottom of what’s going on.
Meanwhile, The Terror plays with the idea of whether there’s actually a malevolent presence here that’s feeding off of the patients’ plight and pain, or if it’s just a symptom of this rampant abuse and mass delusion. This schism occasionally grows a little tired, but The Terror makes sure to always be moving forward.
Judith Light as Dorry – The Terror: Devil in Silver Season 1 – Photo Credit: Emily V. Aragones/AMC
Devil in Silver has a lot to say about fate and the idea of being “summoned” to serve a bigger purpose. Each season of The Terror has also explored unique cultural cryptids and urban legends. It finds the space for “duppies,” lingering ghosts or spirits – primarily from African and Caribbean folklore – that cause mischief before they move on. It’s a surprising piece of mythology that naturally fits Pepper’s predicament at New Hyde.
It should come as no surprise that the season excels with its raw depictions of paranoia, delusion, and appropriately enough, terror through creative, claustrophobic camerawork that reflects how trapped and powerless Pepper is in this sick experience. Devil in Silver is rich in inexplicable sights and sounds that are meant to get under the characters – and the audience’s – skin.
The horror and psychological thriller genres are used to extrapolate upon these subliminal terrors, but Devil in Silver preys upon the natural fears and insecurities of a psychiatric hospital so that these ideas are infinitely amplified. Some of the season’s strongest moments involve disturbing mental breaks that aren’t at all telegraphed. They’re inspired, intuitive sequences that never just feel like empty jump scares. You’re left to stew in the mental fallout.
The season is filled with genuinely haunting imagery that features what’s easily some of the most disturbing visuals from Karyn Kusama’s career, which is saying something. There are moments that play out like Kusama’s take on a Mike Flanagan project. Even the recurring visual of the hospital’s red guiding navigation line operates like a twisted Yellow Brick Road that leads to damnation.
Dan Stevens as Pepper – The Terror: Devil in Silver Season 1 – Photo Credit: Emily V. Aragones/AMC
As Pepper spends more time with New Hyde’s lifers, The Terror gets into the abject pain of loneliness, abandonment, and misunderstanding, either by people, society at large, or yourself. Pepper finds himself up against something that’s so impossibly bigger than a corrupt hospital staff. However, this season still gets endless mileage out of the sheer terror of being held somewhere against your will, experimented on, and being forced to change. It’s so deeply unsettling, especially in a modern context where this dehumanizing treatment is meant to be treated as a kindness, but is really just hierarchical bookkeeping by a sad, power-hungry staff. It’s no coincidence that Devil in Silver begins with a vicious tableau of pain in which bones are broken as an act of compassion and benevolence for the greater good.
Pepper remains Devil in Silver’s guiding light. However, it’s appreciated that this season makes space for other people’s perspectives and occasionally gets out of Pepper’s head, so it’s not purely filtered through his unreliable POV. These become welcome opportunities to demonstrate intent and highlight that these people aren’t necessarily evil, just burnt out and scared about losing their jobs, which in some ways is even worse. “We’re supposed to be helping people. You’re all just helping yourselves,” becomes a nihilistic accusation that echoes through New Hyde’s walls as the season continues.
The Terror’s ideas are gripping, but it sometimes gets a little too lost in the purgatory allegory that it repeatedly pushes. Pepper is trapped in a real hospital that also functions as a karmic purgatory of sorts as he confronts his past and discovers a grounding purpose to pull him through to the other side. The message remains moving, and Stevens’ performance never falters, even if it does sometimes get a little too lost in itself.
At the same time, Devil in Silver is also self-aware enough to criticize other mental health narratives that dabble in comparable territory like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The Terror is at least aware of any naval gazing that it may occasionally indulge in. It also doesn’t hurt that the supporting cast really brings these roles to life. Judith Light, in particular, gives an Emmy-caliber performance.
Hampton Fluker as Scotch Tape – The Terror: Devil in Silver Season 1 – Photo Credit: Emily V. Aragones/AMC
The Terror’s deconstruction of New Hyde also turns into a larger commentary on how this hospital is really just a microcosm for America. Everyone covers their ass and moves the problem somewhere else, while the true allies and enemies hide in plain sight. There’s a powerful, if not occasionally heavy-handed, message here that reinforces why this story isn’t just being told, but being told now, seven years after The Terror’s second season. The Terror argues that this story is bigger than New Hyde alone and that maybe America has experienced so many terrible and selfish acts because its people invited evil in.
At six episodes, The Terror: Devil in Silver is the perfect length before it starts to grow repetitive, spin its wheels, and run out of steam. The season does fall into a bit of a formula where problems continue to plague Pepper, even when they’re not his fault, which prompts a longer stay at New Hyde and a deeper descent into its suffocating maw. Fortunately, The Terror builds to a rewarding finish before it needs to start repeating itself.
There are a few convenient turns of fate in The Terror’s final episode. However, the audience is left with an overwhelming appreciation for the healing power of community, understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness, whether it’s for others or ourselves. The Terror: Devil in Silver beautifully articulates the melancholy tenet that everyone has their demons, but some are just more debilitating than others.
The Terror: Devil in Silver premieres May 7 on AMC+ and Shudder.
Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio was written nearly 150 years ago, and yet it’s still considered to be the ultimate parable about the fundamental human experience of learning right from wrong and the importance of empathy.
Its message is still evergreen, and the reason that two separate big-budget Pinocchio films by auteur directors were released in 2022. And yet, it’s a story that also has creepy enough bones to fuel a really potent horror film when properly executed (please watch Pinocchio’s Revenge if you’ve never seen that piece of dark, gonzo filmmaking before).
The Twisted Childhood Universe – or TCU, if we must call it this – has largely been more hits than misses. That being said, Pinocchio Unstrung isn’t just a surprisingly entertaining horror film, but it’s a genuine love letter to practical effects and old-fashioned animatronics instead of being some cheap CG slog. Rhys Frake-Wakefield has crafted a disturbing reimagining of Pinocchio that doesn’t get its strings tied up in knots.
In Pinocchio Unstrung, James (Cameron Bell) loses his mother and best friend, so he’s sent to live with his grandfather Geppetto (Richard Brake, 3 From Hell), who seems detached and isn’t necessarily the best role model for this grieving boy. There’s actually a fairly interesting idea here by having both Pinocchio (Jude Evan Lloyd) and a real boy living with Geppetto, while Pinocchio forms a frightening attachment towards James.
Geppetto built Pinocchio for James so he can have a friend, rather than it being a creation to heal his own sadness and loneliness. This heads into even more tragic territory for this vulnerable boy that feels like something that’s more akin to The Boy, Child’s Play, or even the later Puppet Master sequels, rather than Pinocchio. This Pinocchio wants more than to just be a real boy. He wants to be James’ “best mate” and a real friend, which is achieved by killing the various people who have wronged him in life and gotten in James’ way.
Going against Geppetto’s wishes, James brings Pinocchio to school and chaotic carnage ensues as the student body – particularly James’ bullies – become casualties in this macabre learning experience. The messaging is very heavy-handed, which is not unexpected for a film of this nature, especially one that’s pulling from such a moralistic fairy tale in the first place that’s designed to teach lessons.
To the film’s credit, there are some genuinely creepy and unnerving scenes during the film’s first act when Pinocchio bonds with James and demonstrates a fascination with his anatomy and how they’re different. Pinocchio also acquires a checklist of body parts, skin, teeth, hair, eyes, and items to become a real boy. This, while formulaic, is the right style of creepy for this film. It provides a clear focus and trajectory for what’s to come, but also facilitates a lot of gruesome gore.
There are actually some decent gore effects that are well-executed, even if some of them have weak and unearned setups. Obviously, a film like this is trying to be tongue-in-cheek and doesn’t strive to be taken as high art, but it could work a little harder to build to its gory setpieces instead of just throwing them out there and making it seem like it doesn’t care about anything else. A second pass could have helped refine a lot of these elements and turned this into something truly great, rather than operating like a clunky series of poorly written scenes that are designed to string together exaggerated deaths.
These vicious kills are very Terrifier–coded and, on their own, aren’t bad and should please the gorehounds in the audience. There’s an inspired “nose kill” that Pinocchio Unstrung holds off on, but is worth the wait. Pinocchio Unstrung is arguably the goriest of the TCU films, which is a step in the right direction, even if other elements are lacking. In the end, there’s effort here, and director Frake-Waterfield is genuinely trying, even if some of his instincts are misguided or need to be sharpened. For instance, there’s a running throughline where Pinocchio wishes that he had had a penis.
Robert Englund delivers a committed and satisfying performance as Cricket, Pinocchio’s de facto conscience. However, Frake-Wakefield also includes a ridiculous “Wood Mother” concept, which is another wooden abomination who is there to get in Pinocchio’s head. The Wood Mother is presumably meant to be a Blue Fairy analogue, but she just feels extraneous and an excuse to show off more animatronics. Somehow all this leads into a story about rebirth and immortality as the film broadens its scope, which doesn’t always work in its favor. There are plenty of ideas here that are interesting, but ultimately half-baked.
When it comes to Pinocchio himself, the titular puppet’s design initially feels a little lacking, albeit still creepy. Fortunately, it actively improves throughout the film as Pinocchio builds upon his anatomy and “becomes” more human. It also doesn’t hurt that Jude Evan Lloyd is actually a competent actor and a worthy foil for Pinocchio.
Most importantly, it looks like a real movie and features some compelling lighting, which is more than what some of the earlier Twisted Childhood Universe films can claim.
To this point, Pinocchio Unstrung proudly boasts that the film is all done with practical effects and puppetry, which makes such a difference. There’d be no point in even making this movie if it didn’t commit to this practical authenticity. It’s not just a better movie because of this, but it reflects a respect and passion for the craft that’s lacking in other TCU entries. It’d be very easy to cut corners here, and so it’s appreciated that it puts in the effort and goes the extra mile. There’s also a really effective shadow puppetry introduction that’s reminiscent of 2021’s Candyman and a great way to kick off the movie.
Pinocchio Unstrung gradually finds its rhythm and confidence as it goes on, just like a young boy who is figuring out his way in the world. It develops a genuine personality by its end, and there are some weird, unique scenes that really unexpectedly go off the rails and transcend anything from the other TCU films. The place that the film ends is legitimately shocking and feels completely different than the type of movie that’s initially teased. This sort of radical pivot is worth it and turns Pinocchio Unstrung into something weird and wonderful, even if a lot of it still doesn’t work. It deserves credit for taking such big swings, even when they’re unsuccessful.
Those who were left empty from Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey and its various offshoots may be pleasantly surprised by this. It actually manages to say something about identity, morality, autonomy, and rising above the expectations that are placed on us, which seems like an insane thing to say for a film like this. It’s a morbid, mindless way to spend 80 minutes.
By the end of this experience, Pinocchio Unstrung transforms from a wooden concept into a real horror film.
Pinocchio Unstrung releases in theaters on July 24, 2026.
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