Reviews
“Inside No. 9” Season 8 Review – An Outstanding Season Rich in Thrills and Suspense
Unlike other anthology series, Inside No. 9 not only reinvents itself with each episode, its multi-genre approach gives the showrunners plenty of chances to experiment. One episode could be science fiction, and then the next is a comedy. There is really no telling what’s in store for viewers as they tune in. Now, the show’s masterminds and stars, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith, tend to offer a variety of odd tales every season, but this installment has, for the most part, thrills and suspense on the brain.
Not since 2018 has Inside No. 9 produced a holiday special. “Dead Line” delivered an immersive Halloween experience born out of faux technical difficulties, and before that, “The Devil of Christmas” shocked viewers in 2016 with an unforgettable twist in the tail. Meanwhile, Season 8’s “The Bones of St Nicholas” channels the British tradition of ghost stories told at Christmas. George Kane, who would go on to direct the next two episodes, helms this bizarre but exquisitely shot and well-acted story. Although this instance of a double-booked and supposedly haunted church doesn’t pack the same wallop as the previous Christmas special, it is a stirring study of human rationale.
By now, viewers know to expect the unexpected from Inside No. 9, so any criticisms about “Mother’s Ruin” being a retread of Season 2’s “Séance Time” will surely be withdrawn once the episode takes its inevitable turn. This one is briefly brutal, but even the show’s habit of gallows humor can’t quite make you forget the episode’s burst of graphic violence. The next episode’s title of “Paraskevidekatriaphobia” doesn’t roll off one’s tongue, however, this chaotic story about a man fearful of Friday the 13th (the day, not the movie) is a delightful serving of slapstick regardless of its ambiguous tone.
“Love is a Stranger” could be considered too obvious for its own good, yet that is a testament to how observant Inside No. 9 viewers have become. Nevertheless, Claire Rushbrook gives a superb performance as a perpetually single woman looking for love in the wrong place: a dating website. The outcome runs on the predictable side, but as with “Paraskevidekatriaphobia,” being aware of what’s possibly coming doesn’t erase this episode’s merits.
With Inside No. 9 often acting like a visceral reminder of British TV of yesteryear, it’s no surprise that “Hold on Tight!” is inspired by the ‘70s sitcom On the Buses. This series is always scouting for unorthodox settings, but vehicles are underused. “Hold on Tight!” doesn’t change things, though, seeing as this No. 9 bus never leaves the station. The episode was “pulled” at the last second, and in its place was a game show pilot called “3 by 3.” Push past any confusion, pay close attention, and bear witness to the most clever episode this season. This is a great example of how streaming can never replace the experience of live and traditional television. Especially when things go wrong.
“Hold on Tight!” / “3 by 3” is a tough act to follow, but “The Last Weekend” doesn’t fall short. The season finale gives you a lot to process once everything is said and done. Without giving anything away, just know that this story, one about a couple making peace with one of life’s cruelties while holidaying in a cabin, will leave viewers woozy by the end. Once again, it’s another case where the less said, the better.
Dips in quality are unavoidable when a series lasts as long as Inside No. 9, but there is also something to be said about how creative and fulfilling everything here continues to feel. Even if an episode doesn’t have perfect execution, there is always something else about it to enjoy. Pemberton and Shearsmith are certainly still putting their everything in every story. And with the consistently engaging Season Eight in the bag, fans are one step closer to what will undoubtedly be a momentous Season Nine.
Season 8 of Inside No. 9 is now streaming on BritBox.
Inside No. 9, Season 8: Mother’s Ruin
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.
You must be logged in to post a comment.