The good: one of my all-time favorite comics, “Locke & Key” has been adapted to be a TV show by one of the most prominent studios of the day. The bad: the show. It is not good! It’s becoming increasingly clear every week that despite admirable work from a lot of people, the writing, music, and soul of this show are lacking. And as for the ugly… well, we’ll talk about what Kinsey did with the Music Box Key in a second. That and a whole lot more in our discussion of Locke & Key episode five, “Family Tree.” Let’s get to it.
1. A house to die for
I got a lot about this episode that I did not like, but let’s start with something positive. The lighting and wallpaper on this show is still astounding. You know that thing is some type of horror where the house is haunted, but it’s really, really nice, and the people will risk being haunted to hang on to their real estate? It’s almost to the point with TV’s Keyhouse. I’d like to see some of that in the conflict. “The house is trying to kill us, but have you seen the full gas range?”
And then the memory jar graveyard at the end of the episode was a similarly striking image. Really beautiful stuff. So even though this show is a poorly written, tonal mess, I gotta give full props to the production design team. Keyhouse looks great, and that ain’t nothing.
2. Because the keys
There was that infamous line in Rise of Skywalker where, “Apparently, Palpatine has returned.” From the moment I heard it, I knew it was going to live on in infamy. It just sounds wrong. But what’s the matter with that line, really? It’s that the movie is acknowledging an important point. The script wants you to know that it’s smart enough to know that something is different, but it isn’t interested enough to bother with a real explanation. It’s infuriating because if nothing was said at all, you can imagine it was a mistake. Here not so much. It’s like someone smugly telling you they made a mistake, and then informing you that they aren’t interested in fixing it.
And that’s the level of exposition here. “So, we can all hear them now,” Tyler says matter of factly, after a scene where he and Kinsey can hear the Keys whispering. Why? What’s changed? “Apparently, we can all hear the Keys now.” That’s where this show is at. Rise of Skywalker levels of scripting.
A lot of the comic is the visual thrill of discovering what the keys do. Show and don’t tell, you know? There’s a brilliant motange in volume four of the series “Keys to the Kingdom” where you see a dozen keys for one panel, and have to imagine what they do. Some, like a key that gives you wings, are obvious. But one panel shows an army of homicidal toys. What was the story there? No time to spare.
This show has no trust for its audience. You’d think television, a medium with as much visual potential as comics, would love to take the time to show how each key works. But after a fun minute of playing with their new Music Box Key, we need to hear Kinsey say, “The Music Box Key only works for whoever turned it.” She didn’t mug the camera, but she may as well have. “Apparently, the Music Box Key is a thing.”
3. Kinsey’s crew
So, Scot knows about the Keys now. That’s cool! Scot being the new guy learning about the keys is fun on paper, but I’m not sold that the Locke kids have convincingly enough experience to be the experts. I guess that’s what this expert is meant to prove, but I’ve spent too much time criticizing every on this show for being idiots and then walking it back by saying, “Maybe that’s the point?” If the point of your every creative decision is to show why the characters in your fantasy story are dumb, I’m starting to suspect it’s because you are dumb. Smart writing is more fun than stupid writing, but one of them is harder to write. Kinsey knows there is a monster-lady hunting for the Keys, but she’s just blabbing about them to everyone she meets.
Alike Gabe. Who the hell is this Gabe kid? We bring him in and immediately Kinsey is giving him the total picture. And Gabe. Oh Gabe. He’s somehow both a creep and a twerp. Why not just use the Head Key to make him forget? Or the Music Box Key to make him not able to tell anyone about it? Kinsey immediately gets the hots for him and I do not get it at all. I’m not a traumatized teenage girl who rewrote my mind with magic keys, so maybe I’m missing something. Or maybe I’m just an adult with good judgment. Because it’s easy to see- Gabe sucks!
The “appealing” thing that he did was join Kinsey’s mean-spirited magical prank of tormenting bully-girl Eden. And the whole scene got way out of hand. There was something very upsetting and male gazey about the way the camera is filmed her humiliation. Something about the combination of her skimpy bad girl clothes and the implicitly (but not explicitly) way they violated her was gross and fetishy. By the time she got around to making out with the statue I was like, “um yeah, Kinsey is using magic to brainwash and rape this girl right? That’s what’s going on here?” But it was made so much worse by all food stuff, and the swimming stuff. I am not googling it because I know they are all fetishes with their own icky names.
It made me uncomfortable for sure. Some of that is textual- Scot also gets uncomfortable and leaves. But wherever my line is, the show went way, way, way, way over it. Mind control is not a new concept to me in fantasy, nor is the sexualization of teenagers. (I mentioned Sex Education in my last review, a show I found brilliant. Don’t watch this show, watch that one).
4. Eight ball app
Tyler flirting with Julie sent me to looking at my phone each and every time they were on screen. And I don’t even have the hottest app on it, which is apparently a magic eight ball? I’m not hip to the latest trends, so my phone just has lame Twitter on it. Man those two have no chemistry. And I’ve complimented Connor Jessup in the past, but I am cooling towards him. Part of it is the writing. Tyler here seems angry, paternalistic, and unsupportive, just a surly, self-involved asshole. Wow that was a lot of negative words. But Jessup isn’t bringing a lot in the charisma department. He could be mitigating his character’s unappealing nature with… something. Magic eight ball app, is this guy gonna win me over to this character? Shake shake. You can guess what it says.
5. The short drive to Matheson
So for five episodes now, Ellie Whedon has existed only to come by Keyhouse and recite backstory. “Sometimes with Rufus I just lost my head,” she says, definitely not foreshadwing anything at all. Of course by the end of the episode, we learn that not all is what it seems, so maybe there’s a great reason for that.
And wait, doesn’t Uncle Duncan live hours away in Boston? He seems to drop by to parent Bode once a week. Which is really nice of him, but why bother making a deak out of how far away he lives? Stick him one town over, or put Matheson closer to the city. It’s fictional! You can make him live wherever you want! Oh, but Aaron Ashmore is killing it though. The turmoil and concern and confusion and love swirling across his face when he hugged Bode was one perfect moment of acting.
Now Dodge has an excuse for being anywhere and everywhere- it has the Anywhere Key. That’s would make it easy to break into Joe Ridgeway’s house and unceremoniously murder him. Of course, we end the episode with a bona fide twist- Dodge is nowhere to be seen, it’s Ellie who is at the scene of the crime! That’s pretty alarming. It does make me want to watch the next episode. But we ain’t doing that until next week. Thanks for sticking with me o ye Seekers of the Keys.
