REVIEW: From – Season One [2022]

Rating: TV-MA | Episodes: 10 | Runtime: 60 minutes
Release Date: February 20th, 2022 (USA)
Studio: MGM+
Creator(s): John Griffin

We’re running out of spaces on the board.

The comparisons to “Lost” are unavoidable as John Griffin’s “From” opens in a town full of people who have no clue how they arrived or how to get home. Rather than all together via a plane crash, however, they’ve found their way here separately. Each individual or group was driving along in disparate parts of America only to inexplicably find their path blocked by a fallen tree. We experience the phenomenon by way of the Matthews family (Eion Bailey’s Jim, Catalina Sandino Moreno’s Tabitha, Hannah Cheramy’s Julie, and Simon Webster’s Ethan) as they turn around to hit whatever exit they just passed, eventually finding themselves in a broken-down town of people doing all they can to ignore them. It’s an intentional maneuver by the residents because they know what comes next. The Matthews must discover it on their own.

The gist is this: the town is the only place on this road. Drive left or right, it doesn’t matter. You will inevitably loop back to the same derelict gas station and diner despite moving in a straight line. And if that seems impossible, just wait. Because things get worse. As Sheriff Boyd (Harold Perrineau) and Father Khatri (Shaun Majumder) try to explain in the best way they can to incredulous strangers with no reason to believe them, every night sees monsters walking and whispering with the sole ambition to skin and disembowel each one of them alive. Only by the grace of carved talismans hanging by the door of every building are they given a semblance of security. The monsters aren’t able to enter without being invited now. So, they take human form and spin their lies to find a sympathetic ear. One mistake is all they need to decimate the entire community.

We’re therefore left with three mysteries. What is this place? How did they all get here? And how can they escape? Griffin and company do a great job ensuring everything that occurs centers on those three questions. So, rather than feel as if it’s spiraling out of control like “Lost” often did, each new clue feels deliberately placed along an existing blueprint with an already completed endgame. Whether or not that’s true (or if MGM+ will continue renewing the show to get there if it is) remains to be seen, but the sheer fact that it feels that way is enough to let the waves take you without any fear of drowning. The characters on-screen are scared enough for the both of us—especially now that a rare yet not wholly unique event has occurred. Two new cars arrived on the same day to usher in a bloodbath after three months without a casualty.

“From” wears its intensity and utter lack of sentimentality on its sleeve. I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure someone—and I mean someone who initially appears to be a series regular—dies each and every episode in varyingly grotesque ways. Why now if Boyd had 96 Days written on the incident chalkboard outside his post office-turned-police station door? Maybe it was just a matter of time. Maybe it’s because fate brought two cars and with them some yet unknown curse. Or perhaps it was precisely that period of peace that pushed the dark forces in the woods to tip the scales back. Because while Boyd, Khatri, and Donna (Elizabeth Saunders’ matron of Colony House where residents stay to “live despite the danger” rather than simply survive like those residing in the town) believe they’ve found a system to combat their demons, they don’t know everything that’s going on.

So, while the premise owes a lot to “Lost”, I’d say the show itself is more like “The Walking Dead” in tone and construction. The flashbacks are few and far between outside of “Broken Windows, Open Doors” shedding light on Boyd’s arrival and a scattering of memories by way of Victor (Scott McCord), the longest tenured citizen and thus the most messed up psychologically since that tenure began when he was but a boy. Instead, we’re dealing more with where these characters are going and how the stress of their existence weighs on their shoulders. Some hear voices (Avery Konrad’s Sara). Some see visions (Jade). Others find acclimating difficult (David Alpay’s rich wunderkind Jade initially thinks the place is an elaborate escape room for him and him alone). So, if the monsters don’t turn good people bad, the people might do it all on their own.

It leads to an engrossing puzzle box of a season with authentic character growth that endears us to the likes of young lovers (Corteon Moore’s Ellis and Pegah Ghafoori’s Fatima or Ricky He’s Kenny and Chloe Van Landschoot’s Kristi), indecipherable eccentrics (Victor and Sara), and a “normal” dysfunctional American family (the Matthews clan). Secrets are exposed at a surprisingly rapid pace whether it be tidbits from the characters’ pasts or observations made by newcomers that no one else had noticed. And all the while this notion of security and community hangs by a thread with the threat of one drunkard deciding to open a window after dark. It allows the whole to be a powder keg ready to blow. To let characters question their rigidity and choices while forcing others to confront their guilt and regret.

Details arise to start hypothesizing answers (you can’t help yourself from compiling everyone’s “tree” stories together to see if there’s a common denominator as far as why they were chosen either through emotional state or original destination, etc.). More mysteries come to light that cause you to wonder if the entire thing is some elaborate test cobbled together too quickly to dot every “i” and prevent its prisoners from looking too closely. So, while you can get lost in your own head guessing, there’s always enough on-screen to occupy your time so Griffin can provide what we need to know when we need to know it. With an effective cast (it’s not the most well-known or polished collection outside Perrineau, but they all pull through) and great special effects, it becomes hard not to want to keep going after every cliffhanger. Because its purposeful machinations guarantee every high and low hits home.