Reviews
[Review] Netflix’s “Reality Z” Works as Remake and Sequel to “Dead Set”
Two years before The Walking Dead premiered and put zombies back in fashion, five-part miniseries Dead Set broadcast in the UK over consecutive days leading up to Halloween. The horror-comedy saw a zombie outbreak occur while a Big Brother-like reality series was well underway, with the contestants locked inside wholly unaware. Until it bled over into their world, that is. The premise was all the more relevant considering Dead Set aired on the same channel as Big Brother, mere weeks after its latest season wrapped. Like most zombie narratives, the mix of social commentary, wit, and grue made it a hit. Both it and creator Charlie Brooker’s later series Black Mirror would find popular homes on Netflix. Reality Z uses Dead Set as a basis to craft its own zombie outbreak story set in Brazil, at once creating a remake and sequel to the regarded series.
For fans of Dead Set, Reality Z looks uncannily similar to its predecessor. Aside from the different setting and aesthetic updates, the core plot and character dynamics feel almost beat for beat identical. It opens with the outbreak already well underway, with the closed set of reality series Olympus none the wiser. At least until the zombies pervade, and the production studio becomes a fortress against the outside world. The only real difference, however, is that there’s a minor subplot featuring an additional set of characters slowly making their way toward the studio. When the original Dead Set story ends, these characters take center stage to carry the plot forward.
Created by Cláudio Torres, each of the brisk, ten episodes average 30-minutes, which means that it’s easily digestible. Moreover, the format and perpetual rotation of characters make this feel like an abridged version of The Walking Dead. Characters you start to care for die and become zombies, forcing you to shift allegiance to a new hopeful survivor. The short format also means there’s not as much room for depth as long-form shows. The tone changes dramatically, too, once Reality Z slips into sequel mode. The humor wanes as humanity grows grimmer.
The cyclical nature of this story seems to be the point. There’s clear commentary in how the studio setting and the popularity of the reality show filmed there creates a detachment for the characters; some frame their decisions as if they’re directing their own reality series rather than confronting actual reality. Mostly, though, it’s a bleak depiction of the repetitive inability to learn from mistakes or how inherent immoral selfishness always leads to doom. Over and over and over again, zombie stories reveal the ugliest aspects of humanity, and yet no one learns. Though there’s always a glimmer of hope for the future, however slim.
That’s always what makes the zombie subgenre seem stale. While Reality Z is timely in its themes, both regional and universal, it doesn’t offer anything new. As the characters as doomed to repeat the same mistakes, so too are we to see the same tried and true zombie story repeat itself. Multiple times, in this instance. There’s a lot to like about what Torres has created. He goes heavy on the gore, and the cast all deliver compelling performances to keep you engaged and hitting play on the next episode. Opening up the world beyond the studio and introducing a more extensive cast of characters also allows for exploration of some topical subtext. That it’s Brazil’s first zombie series means more exposure on a global scale, as well as the introduction of a perspective. That’s always a cool thing. Overall, it’s a well-executed show, and it’s easy to see why it’s become popular in Brazil. Just one that’s best suited for those who haven’t grown tired of zombie stories yet, because this doesn’t offer anything we haven’t seen before.
Reality Z is available to stream on Netflix now.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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