<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/span><\/p>\n
Peter Weller Guillermo Del Toro’s Cabinet Of Curiosities<\/em> <\/figcaption>photo: Ken Woroner\/Netflix<\/figcaption><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/figure>\nAt the start of every episode of Netflix’s latest anthology horror series, Guillermo Del Toro’s Cabinet Of Curiosities<\/em><\/span>, <\/em>audiences are greeted by the Oscar-winning directors. Introducing each new tale in front of an actual cabinet of curiosities, the Pan’s Labyrinth<\/em><\/span> <\/em>filmmaker immediately evokes both Alfred Hitchcock Presents <\/em>and Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone<\/em>. And the comparisons are apt, if readily welcomed. After all, del Toro’s first foray into television finds him playing host and tastemaker to a stellar roster of horror and thriller storytellers who remind us why this genre remains fertile ground for exploring today’s most relevant issues.<\/p>\nBut maybe we should pause and explain why del Toro picked the \u201ccabinet of curiosities\u201d as both title and concept for the show. As he explains in the series’ opening episode (the Guillermo Navarro-directed \u201cLot 36,\u201d written by Regina Corrado from an original del Toro story): \u201cIn centuries past, when the world was full of mystery and traveling was reserved for the very few, a new form of collection was born.\u201d The cabinet of curiosities, which could be a building or an actual piece of furniture, housed any and all sorts of things. And tied to every one of its objects was a story. At the top of every installment, he opens up the titular wood-carved cabinet and offers us an object that will prove crucial to these stories (a set of keys, say, or a remote control). <\/p>\n\n<\/p>\n\n
CREATORS<\/h2>\nPanos Cosmatos, David S. Goyer, Jennifer Kent, Henry Kuttner, HP Lovecraft, Guillermo del Toro, Michael Shea, Regina Corrado, Aaron Stewart-Ahn, Emily Carroll, Lee Patterson, Mika Watkins, Haley Z. Boston<\/h2>\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n <\/span><\/section>\n<\/aside>\n
These opening interludes help elucidate the way the series approaches its genre trappings. The cabinet of curiosities, after all, serves as much as a structural conceit as a metaphor for the anthology setup. Del Toro wants to remind us that scary stories can and do begin with the most mundane of objects\u2014but also that the very act of storytelling, the craftsmanship of such narrative flair, lies on the filmmakers are the heart of this anthology series. It’s why every introduction places such objects next to carved figurines of the directors helming each episode.<\/p>\n
Indeed, each installment, which boasts directors like Panos Cosmatos (Mandy<\/em><\/span>), Jennifer Kent (The Babadook, The Nightingale<\/em>), and Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen, Twilight<\/em>), is, like the beautiful eponymous wooden cabinet, expertly crafted. The attention to detail in everything from thrill-inducing soundscapes that conjure dug-up graves to meticulously art-directed spaces that are truly haunting elevates these terrifying short horror tales about such timeless themes as greed, pride, and vanity, all while dredging up devilish takes on zombies, rat kings, vengeful demons, and, of course, the most horrific villain one can think of: capitalism itself.<\/p>\n\n
\n
G\/O Media may get a commission<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<\/p>\n\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/span><\/p>\n
Daphne Hoskins and Rupert Grint Guillermo Del Toro’s Cabinet Of Curiosities<\/em> <\/figcaption>photo: Ken Woroner\/Netflix<\/figcaption><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/figure>\nAny review of an anthology series\u2014especially one as strong as this one\u2014is bound to play favorites. And while I could focus on any one of the many standout episodes (actors Tim Blake Nelson and F. Murray Abraham, for example, make the entries they star in, \u201cLot 36\u201d and \u201cThe Autopsy,\u201d respectively, gripping performance showcases that double as meditations on what we owe the dead), we’d be remiss if we didn’t single out the one we’ve yet to shake off.<\/p>\n
We’re talking about the Ana Lily Amirpour-directed installment \u201cThe Outside.\u201d Written by Haley Z. Boston and based on a short story by comics author Emily Carroll, this horror-comedy take on the preyed insecurities of a young woman in a wintry nondescript suburban neighborhood is a knockout. The ’80s Christmas-set episode stars Kate Micucci (best known as one half of the musical comedy duo Garfunkel and Oates) as Stacey, an awkward bank teller whose love of taxidermy, not to mention her unfashionable sense of style, keeps her on the outs with her beautifully coiffed colleagues.<\/p>\n