Rating: TV-MA | Episodes: 10 | Runtime: 60 minutes
Release Date: April 23rd, 2023 (USA)
Studio: MGM+
Creator(s): John Griffin
Hope is what makes you willing to suffer.
The first season of John Griffin’s “From” ends with new developments that expand its mysterious world beyond mere nightmare. Up until that point the unwitting residents of this impossible town devoid of an exit besides death only had to combat the reality that monsters lived in the woods. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but, as Sheriff Boyd’s (Harold Perrineau) chalkboard stated at the series’ start, it was manageable. They had gone three months without a casualty when the Matthews family arrived in their RV as part of an infamous “two-car event” that hadn’t been seen in decades. As long as you stayed indoors with a talisman hanging, those human-adjacent creatures couldn’t attack. As time went by, however, voices and visions began to corrupt in ways that were breaking down the idea of community Boyd and Colony House’s Donna (Elizabeth Saunders) instilled.
It’s those voices and visions that Griffin pivots towards for season two—and rightfully so. You cannot create a puzzle box like this without progressing the bigger picture rapidly enough to keep your audience invested. While doing so by way of a voice on Jim (Eion Bailey) and Jade’s (David Alpay) radio presenting the idea that they are all being watched and the escalating terrors of Boyd’s journey into the deep forest revealing even worse nightmares to come does help viewers to dig in and clamor for more, it also unfortunately renders the original horrors quaint and inconsequential. Because the more we move towards conspiracy theories and dream, the farther away we get from the more urgent brutality outside the characters’ windows. Don’t therefore expect nearly as many deaths this time around. Where season one leveraged its sprawling cast into shocking farewells, season two is much more interested in lore.
Some of you will probably check out as a result. I did too for a spell. You watch that charter bus pull into the diner’s parking lot at the end of “Oh, the Places We’ll Go” and you anticipate an influx of new people marked for death (besides the obvious “twist” that seeing “Grand Rapids” conjures a couple episodes after learning it’s where Chloe Van Landschoot’s Kristi came from). So, when the initial onslaught of chaos subsides (that many people arriving at once so close to dark guarantees a feast for the monsters since Boyd and company have a difficult time explaining this town to one new person let alone twenty), the season turns somewhat bloodless. Injuries replace eviscerations and the stakes seem to be lowered as Griffin (and Jeff Pinkner, who earns a co-story credit on most if not all episodes) looks to turn our attention to the inward psychology of his characters. What did Boyd see and what did he bring back? What does the voice Jim heard reveal? And who are the children haunting Tabitha (Catalina Sandino Moreno) after an adventure through the caves where the monsters sleep?
It’s a lot to juggle and it can get frustrating to parse since so much of what happens this season does so in a vacuum. I found myself yelling at the TV for Boyd and Tabitha to talk at least once and realize their experiences were connected (although doing so might have put a wrinkle in the cliffhanger that ends “Once Upon a Time”). Then there’s newcomers like Nathan D. Simmons’ Elgin and A.J. Simmons’ Randall feeling very unnatural as one-dimensional plot progressors, the former being saddled with a dream he can’t quite remember and the latter a stubborn malice that manipulates lead characters onto a path that adds very little to the overall mythos. Whereas Boyd and Tabitha’s journeys hold weight, everything else that happens proves to be a distraction. It merely gives Jim, Julie (Hannah Cheramy), Kristi, and Kenny (Ricky He) something to keep themselves occupied with in the meantime. Thankfully, Donna and Victor (Scott McCord) are allowed some meaningful character development within those fringes.
To me, Saunders and McCord are the MVPs of this season. Donna’s present actions and Victor’s memories of the past are the glue that hold everything together. They are the most intriguing and complex characters on-screen because they are the most emotionally volatile and that vulnerability really adds something that Kenny’s (justified) indignation and Boyd’s guilt (Harold Perrineau is still great) can’t. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Donna and Victor are also the only two people in this town that have truly accepted the fact that it is their home now. They’re the only ones who refuse to let hope dictate their actions because they’ve seen how quickly it can die. It’s why they’re the perfect foils to Boyd and Tabitha respectively. They can push those “heroes” where they need to go with vinegar and fear respectively. Donna allows Boyd to be calm. Victor allows Tabitha to be brave.
A lot of crucial mythology is therefore revealed even if most of what happens exists as filler distraction or fodder for fateful epiphanies. The big looming danger marked by a creepy music box falls prey to that role too, but at least its origins open some doors for the future. It’s about five episodes worth of plot development spread over ten episodes that sustains itself because of the characters. And since this whole thing hinges on those characters keeping their heads despite insane circumstances, that does prove enough. At least for now. Because while the ending cliffhanger is a doozy, so too was the one that concluded season one. Hopefully Griffin can reclaim the sense of urgency he lost when bringing the ramifications of that first surprise into the fold. That he can bring the plot threads back together and stop being afraid to sacrifice his series regulars because none of the season two deaths hold any weight. Everything that occurs is a means to an end. And while I can deal with that for a season, I’m not sure I can for two.

Catalina Sandino Moreno and Simon Webster in FROM; courtesy of MGM+.






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