With only three more chapters left until the conclusion of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk's thriller masterpiece, "American Horror Story: Roanoke," one can't help but be hanging by the edge of their seat. With all the bloodshed and carnage they managed to squeeze into this past Wednesday's story, there's no way to talk this one off the ledge. "Roanoke" has finally climbed to its irrefutable climax and seems prepped and ready to go out with a bang. Leaving us with an ending we won't soon forget, engraving itself within the "American Horror Story" mythos and as Murphy himself dictated, will start "connecting the dots."
It is easy to say "Roanoke" was the season the fans have been asking for. With some past duds, there has been a yearning to return to the grandeur of "Murder House" and it has given us just that. Pulling back into the roots of what launched the anthology series into its "horrific" reputation.
"American Horror Story" has always strived not only to frame the terror of their otherworldly entities but that of reality itself. From any perspective, life isn't quite the easiest ocean to navigate, but nobody can deny that there tend to be some demons that lurk beneath the surface.
"Murder House" focused on topics varying from infidelity to school shootings, "Asylum" poked at the poor treatment of the mentally ill in America as well as rampant racism and homophobia, "Coven" took on vanity and sexual abuse, "Freak Show" tried to fight discrimination, "Hotel" played the battle of addiction, and "Roanoke" is taking on not only vanity, but the very platform of our reality show driven world-- the obsession with fame.
As our first half of "Roanoke" closed some episodes earlier, we were introduced to the cast behind the re-enactments and the absolutely deranged creator, Sidney Aaron James (Cheyenne Jackson). Sidney, in a self-absorbed ploy to keep himself at the top of the rating polls, devises a sequel to his hit, "My Roanoke Nightmare," in which their "real-life" storytellers, as well as their dramatic counterparts, are to return to the home during the doomed blood moon. His pitch for "Return To Roanoke: Three Days In Hell" goes off without any hint of concern from his producers... Because, hell, who doesn't want to see that juicy, sadistic piece of television?
All of those involved with "My Roanoke Nightmare" return for their own person reasons. Whether it be Shelby Miller's (Lily Rabe) desire to reconnect with her husband, Matt (André Holland), after having cheated on him with his pseudo counterpart, Dominic Banks (Cuba Gooding Jr.), or that of the stars of the reenactments who believe it's all for fun... The Millers couldn't have possibly been telling the truth about their ill-fated hauntings, could they?
As Sidney and his crew prepare the house for their oncoming "victims" the job is plagued with "freak accidents"-- one of which being a chainsaw pulling around by itself in order to take the head off of its unsuspecting operator-- that he simply brushes off as just that. It doesn't matter to him whether or not members of his crew are dying, they're just collateral damage in order to construct his dark fantasy of fame. He'll do anything to make his show "pull more viewers," going as far as telling the mentally unstable portrayer of The Butcher, Agnes Mary Winstead (Kathy Bates) that she was cut from the show, in hopes to lure her there in a crazed state of believing herself to be the horror figure she had portrayed.
As long as you pull viewers, it doesn't matter how much blood you spill-- LITERALLY.
As the sequel series ominously foretells within its beginning credits: all those who participated in "Return To Roanoke: Three Days In Hell" were found dead... Except for one; this is the remaining footage found.
Already setting the tone implied of death in pursuit of reality television stardom. Our participants are being picked off one by one. Either by the supernatural beings at play or that of the evil lurking under the skin of humanity itself.
As casts meet the tension between the people portrayed and those that portrayed them is dizzying; each claiming to know the other in some kind of false intimacy. Forces pushing and pulling at each other as viewers begin to see how the reenactors either warped the images of their "characters" or hit the nail on the head. Staring at each other through what can arguably only be explained as a broken mirror. They see not only the persons they "played," but also visions of themselves.
However, as Sidney screams to keep the camera rolling, even in the face of the house's first victim, Rory Manahan (Evan Peters), at the hands of the REAL "murder nurses," the very reality television he forces into creation will be the very thing to kill him. The ratings he dared to claim at the hands of gambling human lives are coming for him. As Agnes' own insanity for fame turns her into the persona she "idolized," claiming his death as well as the attempted death of Shelby all in the name of The Butcher. Sidney got what he wanted, Agnes storming onto the set, only to receive a bloody end before he could see his grotesque creation draw viewers into the palm of his hand.
The true killer this season is not only vanity but that of the disturbing dependency on fame. Reaching so far to be put on a pedestal that murder becomes their inevitable answer.
The cameras are always rolling... They never stop. Catching every moment of human weakness in its unblinking eye.
As Matt reveals his reasons for returning, professing his love for the witch of whom he committed his infidelity, Shelby lurches out in vain rage. Bludgeoning Matt into nothing but blood and brains at the hands of a crowbar. If she couldn't have him-- nobody could. Relaying the reality that perceived fairy tales aren't all that they're cracked up to be... Let alone always end in that feigned attempt at a happily ever after.
But, it is in the deranged plea of Agnes, before her face splitting at the hands of her "idol," that we see the core of these misdoings, "I just wanted to be on television."
All that bloodshed... All in the name of being engrained on a pixelated screen.
In this age of reality television, where we constantly engross ourselves in filmed "catfights," there seems to be a very prominent truth found in those words. There are people who will do anything to claw their way to the top... To make themselves the center of public adoration. Anything to maintain those ratings, keep that relevancy, feed that inner monster-- that undying ego that only ever screams for more... All for those two seconds of fame.
"Roanoke" is a very real horror story... And we're living in it.