The Curse (review) – a discomforting black comedy that fits with the existential despair of our times

The Curse is currently airing on Paramount + and Showtime.

Since 2013, comedian Nathan Fielder has carved out his own media area by producing some of the most original pieces of television of the past decade. Ever since I stumbled upon the Nathan For You episode “The Claw of Shame” during the pandemic – where Fielder performs an outrageous escape stunt in which he has to unhandcuff himself in 90 seconds before a robotic arm pulls his pants down in front of a group of children with a police officer standing by to arrest him for indecent exposure (yes that did happen), his knack for blurring reality and fiction alongside his subdued enigmatic stardom captivated myself and many others across four seasons, eventually culminating in the extraordinary series finale, “Finding Frances”.

His second creation, The Rehearsal (2022), took the docu-reality elements of Nathan for You a step further as Fielder used actors and extravagant sets to help ordinary people prepare for difficult, if not life-changing, situations. These situations verged from the simple, like rehearsing a long-awaited confrontation about a dead relative’s will, to Fielder meticulously planning a round-the-clock simulation centred around raising a child from birth to adolescence – an epic piece of performative art that gradually reflects the personal angst of Fielder himself.

But what happens when you take Fielder’s specific brand and transfer it to a fictional format? In some sense, The Curse answers that question and then some. Like his previous work, it’s a continuation of Fielder’s unique brand in that it still maintains his long interests in media manipulation and the fluctuating boundaries regarding the ethics of documentary filmmaking. But by moving away from his social experiments in Nathan for You and The Rehearsal to a scripted television format, it also marks a fundamental evolution in removing the docu-reality awkwardness of his real-life “character” and offers a more controlled framework to expand his long-gesticulated ideas by immersing himself into an entirely fictional one.

It helps that Fielder has the backing of SHOWTIME, A24, Paramount and a production team including co-creator/director/writer Benny Safdie (Good Time and Uncut Gems) and Emma Stone (currently riding a wave of critical acclaim as Bella Baxter in Poor Things), both of which co-star and serve as executive producers alongside Fielder and Benny’s brother Josh. The result of this rare and ultimately special collaboration is a unique, compelling, downright discomforting and, most importantly, uncompromising television series. And I use ‘uncompromising’ in the same manner as to how Twin Peaks: The Return (another SHOWTIME production) landed on television screens in May 2017. Because, like David Lynch’s 18-episode magnum opus, The Curse unashamedly tinkers with our temporal relationship with scripted television. Traditionally, brief scenes are extended; the editing is slow and methodical, and the voyeuristic cinematography lingers long enough to tip over simmering tension levels to boiling point.

Describing The Curse – or even selling the premise to TV viewers outside of the Fielder/Safdie bubble – is tricky, but here’s a brief overview. Stone and Fielder are Whitney and Asher Siegel, a newlywed white middle-class couple attempting to bring their vision of eco-conscious housing to the economically depressed town of Española, New Mexico. With the assistance of slimy TV producer Dougie Schecter (Safdie), the Siegels set out to launch their HGTV reality show Flipanthropy where they plan to improve the lives of the locals through a combination of good deeds, including opening up new businesses to boost employment and subsidising rent for the most needy (if you’ve seen shows like Queer Eye and DIY SOS then you know what to expect).

But despite this altruistic persona, it’s quickly established that their show is a bit of a marketing ploy for the couple’s real-estate business in selling Whitney’s “passive houses”, expensive properties with eerie mirrored exteriors that aim to be environmentally friendly but have the unfortunate appearance of futuristic isolation chambers. In addition, the charitable nature of their reality show is not exactly greeted with enthusiasm by the Española community, especially when Whitney’s parents (Constance Schulman and Corbin Bernsen) are much-maligned slumlords and all their social interactions with the town repeatedly expose themselves as horrifically obnoxious opportunists filled with white-saviour denial and the delusion of 21st-century liberalism. This is uncomfortably captured through Whitney’s various attempts to befriend local Pueblo artist Cara Durand (Nizhonniya Luxi Austin) to the point that she believes buying a racist statue from a local mini-golf course for her would be considered a gift of generosity. “You can use it in your art and re-contextualise it,” Whitney says with a beatific smile, much to the stunned look of Cara.

Meanwhile, the titular curse is somewhat of a McGuffin that comes in and out of focus in each episode. In the note-perfect curtain raiser “Land of Enchantment”, Dougie sleazily suggests filming Asher as he buys a soda can from a young black girl called Nala (Hikmah Warsame in an understated yet hypnotic performance) at a strip-mall car park, but he only has a $100 bill in his pocket. He awkwardly hands it over, and after he thinks the camera has cut, he practically snatches the bill back so he can get some change instead. Nala, her eyes shut, curses him with a piercing stare. But are these words simply child’s play, or do they carry some hint of the supernatural? Daniel Lopatin (also known by his stage name Oneohtrix Point Never) and jazz keyboardist John Medeski’s score of perky electronic synths mixed with haunting industrial wails nudge us towards the latter. But this plot point isn’t as centralised as the title suggests, despite certain coincidences sprinkled throughout its ten episodes. 

That said, what The Curse ruthlessly captures is a cringe-fuelled tension generated by a couple desperate to be received as progressive and well-intentioned while spectacularly failing to uphold any of these values nor understand their roles within broader systems of gentrification (Asher refers to it as ‘The G Word’ at one point) and cultural imperialism (the statue). It’s also incredibly funny, particularly for those familiar with the Safdies and Fielder’s work, from Dougie showcasing a failed reality TV pilot he worked on dubiously titled “Love to the Third Degree” to a fumbled computer heist at a local Casino involving Gatorade. Likewise, there’s a moment at the end of episode four, “Under the Big Tree,” where Asher, heeding advice from his wife and Doug to try and bolster his image, attends a corporate comedy class, resulting in a spontaneous outburst of pure angst.

Tying all these thematic and narrative strands together are two compelling central performances. As Whitney, Emma Stone is dexterous in showcasing someone in denial, having hidden for years behind multiple layers of performativity; her fake smile, shrill laugh and her laid-back cadence all demonstrate an entitlement that goes beyond the typical “Karen” archetype. Meanwhile, Fielder is a revelation as he demonstrates more of his range in the role of Asher, particularly in scenes of emotional anguish involving the couple in conflict with each other, both of their insecurities spilling out in fits of childish rage. If anyone mentioned that a discomforting black comedy centred around property development would push the medium to its limits, it would seem very far-fetched. The Curse, on the other hand, achieves this through a combination of an enormously talented production team working with two of our most inspiring screen actors to deliver a vision that fits with the existential despair of our times.

As for Fielder, it’s another outstanding achievement where the answers offered are not straightforward and invite us to examine our own hyper-reality. Because, like Whitney and Asher’s passive home and their new show, it’s a distorted mirror masking the horrific yet honest truth of our world.