'Channel Zero: Butcher's Block' Review: The Best Horror Series On TV Is Back

Before we get to Butcher's Block, here's an extremely brief crash-course on what Channel Zero is. Created by Nick Antosca, Channel Zero is inspired by the weird world of Creepypasta – scary stories written and shared online. Think of them as the urban legends of the 21st century, the type of tales that used to told around campfires that now get shared around message boards and Reddit threads. In adapting Creepypasta stories, Antosca's series has its finger to the pulse of the types of stories that scare people now. There's a bit of irony here, of course: most Creepypasta stories can clearly trace their roots and inspirations back to horror movies of yesterday. In a sense, Creepypasta stories are repackaging the old in a shiny new box.If there's one running theme in Channel Zero, it's familial strife. The things that most haunt the characters at the centers of the three seasons of the show to date all revolve primarily around their families. There's a terrifying, nagging fear at the heart of each season's protagonist: the fear of some sort of cursed lineage. That trouble and misery runs deep in the blood, and, worst of all, that it's inescapable. These characters can physically outrun their families, but they can't escape their own blood.

The two previous seasons of Channel Zero have both existed in their own kind of warped reality. Logic doesn't quite apply to them, nor does common sense. This is by design, not accident. Butcher's Block takes this to the next degree, creating a fever dream of a season overflowing with haunting, confusing imagery meticulously crafted to make you shout, "What the fuck?" at the screen. In the first episode alone, we get a shot of a young boy living inside a wall slowly licking the wallpaper, with seemingly no explanation. Things only get weirder from there. But it's not all weird for weirdness' sake. That unreality; that prevailing sense that something is very wrong, plays perfectly into Alice's growing fear that, like her mother and sister, she might be slowly losing her mind.Director Arkasha Stevenson, who helms all of season 3, is perhaps the best filmmaker the show has had yet. Stevenson brings a warped sense of humor to the proceedings, but also knows exactly how to create dread through the use of space and camera placement. It helps that Butcher's Block offers up so much arresting imagery: the dilapidated, graffiti-covered neighborhoods; the misty, overgrown park; the haunting, unearthly staircase that appears at random. Then there's all that rare, bloody meat that pops up from time to time: long, elegant dinner tables strewn with rotting flesh and buzzing flies. This is a visually propulsive season, and the imagery burns itself into your mind. And that's even before a character strips nude and literally rips a man open and eats his interior organs.After the terrific, horrific imagery and direction, Butcher's Block's strongest asset is its cast. Hauer can play this type of character – a flighty, mysterious, dangerous weirdo – in his sleep, but that doesn't make his Joseph Peach any less compelling. Fairchild, who gave an incredible performance in the anxiety inducing indie film Krisha, delivers a grounded, humorous performance as the landlady/former reporter. Scott, as the cop slowly growing a conscience, handles his character's big moments – he spends a lot of time looking shocked as he watches terrible, terrible things happen – just right. The driving forces, though, are Luccardi and Roden, playing the doomed sisters. The actresses both look alike, which makes their familial bond seem even more authentic, and both bring their own unique takes to their respective roles. Luccardi starts out optimistic and almost naively cheerful, and slowly begins to crack. Roden begins already damaged, and goes through a metamorphosis that I dare not spoil.Butcher's Block is not entirely successful, however. The way it handles mental illness is tone deaf to the extreme, and while one perhaps shouldn't look to a horror series like this to portray such things with 100% accuracy, those who are concerned about the stigmas already in place around mental illness will surely be bothered by certain plot devices here. In addition to this, Butcher's Block has the same somewhat small but none the less obvious problem that the previous seasons, Candle Cove and No-End House, also had. That is to say, there's too much going on here, and not enough narrative threads to tie it all together. Time and time again, Channel Zero seems to approach its storylines with a kitchen sink approach: everything gets thrown in, no matter what. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Some trimming here and there would go a long way to making this season (and this series) tighter.