"Grotesquerie" and the Limits of Ryan Murphy

The disastrous ending of Ryan Murphy's newest production is a warning of overextension and how even a TV maestro can fall fall flat on his face.

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A couple of weeks ago I wrote scathingly about the plot twist that occurs in the seventh episode of Grotesquerie, one of the many Ryan Murphy projects on the air at the moment. While I’d been very much invested in the series–thanks to its dreamy narrative logic, its disturbingly striking visuals, and phenomenal performances, particularly from an Emmy-worthy Niecy Nash-Betts–the abrupt story turn was both unearned and frustrating. I knew in my heart that it was going to be one of those moments from which the show would never recover and, though I’m a fan of Murphy’s, I knew that he wasn’t going to be able to stick the landing. 

I won’t lie. I thought long and hard about whether I even wanted to pursue the series further here at Omnivorous. After all, there are many other things about popular culture that I could be writing. However, given the extent to which I have long been a defender of Murphy’s–and given how compelling, if utterly bizarre, I’d found the earlier episodes in the series–I thought it was only fair that I dive into just what it is about these last three episodes are so frustrating for me as a viewer and a critic.

I’m sad to report that whatI feared has come to pass. The series, having reset and basically tossed aside its initial premise, had absolutely no idea what to do with the episodes that it had left. Nash-Betts certainly gives it her all, continuing to deliver an electric and powerful performance as Lois Tryon, digging deep to give us a character grappling with her own flaws and the life she was living before her coma. The rest of the cast is also excellent, though they have far less to do than they did in the preceding episodes (this is particularly true of both Lesley Manville and Micaela Diamond, who are far less interesting and intriguing in the real world than they were in Lois’ coma-dream). 

But, for all of their efforts, not even these master performers can’t overcome a script that lets them down at every turn. Many of the people that we’ve already spent the season act woefully out of character and lack any sort of motivation, veering from insensible action to insensible action presumably because the plot (half-baked as it may be) needs them to do so. Courtney B. Vance arguably fares the worst in this regard, since everything that happens to him–including a MeToo moment–seems to come out of left field. He gives it his all, of course, and he has undeniable screen presence, but I found myself wondering just what we were being asked to do with this character, given the fact that, until the twist, our only access to him was through Lois. Not even an actor of Vance’s stature can overcome a story with these many deficits, and no amount of strong acting can overcome lack of character development 

The worst offender in this regard is the finale. This, I think, will surely be seen as one of the worst episodes of television in 2024, if not the decade. After all that we’ve been through with these characters, after all that we’ve witnessed Lois grapple with, to be saddled with a last episode that features Marshall joining a men’s rights group and absolutely no answers to any of the questions that the series has asked from the beginning is the height of plain bad storytelling. If you’re going to make a show about faith and desire and the bleak expanse of chaos in the modern age, the very least you can do is ground it in some kind of narrative logic. As we know by now, narrative coherence isn’t Murphy’s strong suit, but Grotesquerie is truly on a whole other level of nonsense.

Some, I’m sure, will try to defend Grotesquerie on the grounds that all of this was just setup for a second season, but that’s not really how TV works (or should work). At their best, season finales offer closure to what’s come before while also laying the groundwork for future plot developments. This show does neither, leaving its characters, and its viewers, high and dry and frustrated.  More to the point, there’s not even a guarantee that there will be a second season, nor am I entirely certain whether this offering was ever intended to be anything other than a miniseries. If the latter is the case, then this is an even more egregious failure than if it’s intended as a multi-season offering.

I’ve been very open about my defense of Ryan Murphy. Even at his least-compelling, Murphy is generally capable of giving us TV that makes it worth the watch, for the spectacle if nothing else. There are, of course, exceptions to this, with the second season of The Politician standing out as one of his worst offenses, with its absolutely bonkers storytelling and frustrating characters. Grotesquerie might have started out as one of his most fascinating and eerily compelling offerings, but by the end it shows itself to have largely been a waste of everyone’s time, including Ryan Murphy’s and Niecy Nash-Betts’.

Perhaps, as some have argued, this is more evidence that we have in fact reached peak Ryan Murphy. He’s never been a slouch when it comes to productivity, but even so 2024 has seen Murphy productions saturate the TV landscape, including American Crime Story, Monsters, and Doctor Odyssey. It might just be the case that even this maestro has his limits when it comes to how many shows he can put on and still retain at least some small measure of quality. Maybe it’s time that he slows down a bit and gives his shows the care and attention that they deserve, we might get better results. 

All of this isn’t to say that I’m not going to keep watching what Murphy gives us. At his best, he’s able to provide television storytelling that is gripping and at times even thoughtful, even if his shows do sometimes get a little buried beneath his own excesses. Say what you will about American Horror Story, for example, but it is now only high camp but also surprisingly deft at exploring the traumas and troubled histories at the root of the collective American psyche. The same goes for the two seasons of Monster, which have shed some fascinating (and often troubling) light on the monsters that fascinate and repulse us in equal measure. And, as I’ve already written, American Sports Story shines a similarly revealing light on the queer tragedy of Aarn Hernandez.

Hopefully, Murphy will regain some of his mojo for his future projects. Lord knows we don’t need another grotesquerie like this one.