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[Review] “The Mist” Weaves a Web of Drama and Paranoia

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Dimension and Spike TV’s “The Mist” opens with a shot of a spider, which is a metaphor for the web the residents of Bridgeville, Maine are trapped in. It’s also instant foreshadowing that becomes a reoccurring theme throughout the show.

“The Mist”, adapted from Stephen King‘s novel, spends the opening moments of the series intercutting between a soldier and the residents of Bridgeville. The soldier awakens with amnesia but catches a glimpse of a terrifying fog rolling into town. Meanwhile, Eve (Alyssa Sutherland) and Kevin (Morgan Spector) Copeland fight over letting their daughter, Alex (Gus Birney), attend a party.

The pilot takes its time introducing the town’s characters and setting up their series arcs. Penned by Amanda Segel and Christian Torpe, “The Mist” fights hard to wedge in social commentary, from drugs to bullying, sexual preference, and even rape. Yes, the major conflict in the first episode begins when Alex alleges that Jay (Luke Cosgrove), the town football star, raped her. A rift is formed between her parents being that Kevin allowed her to go to the party behind Eve’s back. While the social commentary is commendable, I see many having an issue with how it’s presented; not only do the locals not believe her, but the show eludes to the idea that maybe she’s lying. This, of course, isn’t socially acceptable, yet it’s impossible to know where the writers are taking this arc over the course of the season.

But I digress, the point is that the writers are working overtime to insert drama, conflict and add more than one dimension to a story that needs to be more than a horror show. That’s the difficult task at hand; how do they expand on King’s story without blowing the load too early? “The Mist” is more about people being monsters than the show’s creatures. This hearkens back to George A. Romero’s initial zombie trilogy, especially Dawn of the Dead.

Once the mist actually rolls in, the town’s people are caught in a web and unable to move. One group find themselves trapped in a mall, where they’re fighting fear and paranoia, while unseen horrors outside drive their insanity. Here, shit hits the fan, and it never slows down. Those hoping for monsters are going to have to wait being that it appears the first season will torment the town with “normal” insects. Still, these bugs are vicious as they devour anyone who crosses their path; it’s violent, bloody and absolutely bonkers. The hope is that the filmmakers are able to continually deliver the goods over the course of ten episodes, which will have to be deluded by more character work.

Speaking of, Frances Conroy‘s performance is enough to warrant a weekly return to Bridgeville. She’s being set up as one of the town’s antagonists and single-handedly elevates the quality of the pilot episode. Just wait until you see what comes next…

And while the debut does a solid job of setting up various mysteries, the one thing that bothers me is the opening sequence with the soldier and his dog; it’s a constant reminder that the military has something to do with the mist. With that said, “The Mist” is a beautiful blend of drama and horror that delivers on its immediate promise. Feeling like an episode of “Friday Night Lights” with man-eating insects, “The Mist” is as dense as it’s terrifying and promises to be one of the best new genre shows on television.

“The Mist” premieres Thursday, June 22 at 10 PM, ET/PT on Spike.

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‘The Death of Robin Hood’ Review: Michael Sarnoski’s Ultra-Violent, Dark Subversion of Legend

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The Death of Robin Hood Review
Photo Credit: Aidan Monaghan/A24

Myth gets brutally dispatched in The Death of Robin Hood, A Quiet Place: Day One filmmaker Michael Sarnoski‘s dark, loose adaptation of the 17th-century ballad Robin Hood’s Death. The 13th-century outlaw gets a gritty makeover in a subversion of his legendary heroics, forcing a reckoning as Robin Hood seeks peace and death in his final days. Sarnoski’s deconstruction of popularized myth comes forged in shocking violence and poignant introspection, yielding another deeply affecting story of meeting death on your own terms.

The Death of Robin Hood bypasses rehashing the origins of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, instead introducing a grizzled brute who opens the film with a ruthless culling of a young girl seeking vengeance against the outlaw. It’s a downright gentle introduction to Hugh Jackson’s Robin, who only escalates the jaw-dropping carnage when reunited with righthand Little John (Bill Skarsgård) as they seek to reclaim Little John’s home and family from vengeance seekers. These early sequences set up a stark contrast to the Disney-fied legends; Robin Hood’s heroics have been grossly exaggerated compared to the blood debts his violent exploits have racked up over the decades, which in turn have made him a hunted man spanning generations.

Photo Credit: Aidan Monaghan/A24

Grave injuries from battle lands Robin on a remote island priory under the care of Sister Brigid (Jodie Comer, 28 Years Later), where the strange, idyllic community, an enigmatic leper (Murray Bartlett), and a traumatized young girl, Margaret (Faith Delaney), force him to confront his legacy.

Sarnoski, who writes and directs, makes the hero the villain in his adaptation, ensuring a deeply rewarding character arc. At every point in the film, Robin is openly, often actively, seeking death. The stroke of poetic beauty here is that his view of a worthy death seismically shifts from beginning to end. What’s a hero’s death? That answer deepens and evolves along with its “hero” in his waning years. All the impressive survival instincts and battle savagery can’t outmatch or outrun endless cycles of death and loss, after all, despite Robin’s attempts to shrug off his own myth over the years.

Those cycles of violence loom large as a constant threat as the aged outlaw finds himself surrounded by those directly impacted by his past. It breeds conflict, external and internal, reflected in tense encounters and tenuous alliances that let Robin’s humanity slowly slip through his hardened survivor’s shell. It’s the type of role with just enough similarities that’ll draw inevitable comparisons to Hugh Jackman’s stellar work on Logan, but the tenured actor quickly sets the emotionally and morally complex Robin apart, whose primal ruthlessness belies a surprising capacity for aching empathy.

Photo Credit: Aidan Monaghan/A24

While it’s Robin’s relationship with Sister Brigid that drives his final story to its soulful conclusion, it’s the unexpected friendship between the outlaw and the cautious Leper that has the greatest impact. A quiet conversation between the pair comes barbed with soul-shattering revelations, one that irrevocably alters Robin’s outlook while serving as one of the bolder myth revisions. Still, it’s Comer’s quiet heartbreak that yields the film’s biggest devastation.

Sarnoski depicts medieval life for all its cruelty and filth. Death is not remotely gentle in the 13th century; it’s downright nasty and vicious. Cinematographer Pat Scola captures it with startlingly dark realism and grit, but so, too, the breathtaking Northern Ireland landscape that provides this intimate tale with the scale of a sprawling epic. 

The Death of Robin Hood removes the simple binary of heroes and villains, combining both into a complicated interrogation of myth itself. But the biggest magic feat is its demonstration of how myth-making and storytelling can heal even the most grievous wounds, and even provide peace if earned.

The Death of Robin Hood releases in theaters on June 19, 2026.

4 out of 5 skulls

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