Whether you love them or not, the TV spin-off has become an essential piece of our entertainment picture. Last week marked the end of the latest season of Breaking Bad’s prequel Better Call Saul, which found the series growing into its own interesting and original beast. It isn’t just a continuation of what we know, but a strengthening on an unlikely franchise. We are just as enamored by the journey of Saul Goodman as we are Walter White, and it defies the notion that spin-offs are inherently stupid and lazy. Sure, most of them are but that is to discredit some of TV’s greatest second acts, whether they be Happy Days’ Mork & Mindy, Cheers’ Frasier, or The Tracy Ullman Show’s The Simpsons.
Yes, sometimes a good idea just needs to be expanded upon. There are worlds created that we don’t want to escape and instead focus on the strange intricacies of a side story that was around for half an episode.
That is the world that I believe Penny Dreadful: City of Angels came from. I am not entirely sure how it ties into the original series (save for an underlying theme of classic horror machinations), but there is something exciting because it immediately brings up in me a memory of its flagship series that aired on Showtime for three glorious seasons. During that time, there was nothing like it, and every week allowed you into the magical madness of Eva Green’s career-best performance.
I have no reason to discredit the Natalie Dormer-driven vehicle, but little of the City of Angels marketing has immediately grabbed me. While I am infatuated with the world of classic horror, I am not someone who immediately jumps onto the latest genre fare. I am like you, afraid that I am walking into some cheap SyFy-level production where you’re more expected to love its kitsch value than appreciate any nuance or depth that it gives the characters. I understand that there’s a place for cheap thrills, but when you ask me why Frankenstein (1931) is in my personal Top 5, it’s not solely because Dr. Frankenstein made an awesome monster. It’s the humanity and emotional complexity brought to a character who can’t talk, who has deemed an outcast before he gets a say.
That is what makes Penny Dreadful something exceptional. At the time I was well versed in almost every Showtime series whether it be The United States of Tara, Weeds, or Masters of Sex. It only seemed natural that I would watch their latest show, itself feeling like some response to the rise of horror properties like The Walking Dead. I had little expectations when I pressed play on that first night. Though by the end of it all I was a convert and willing to go into this strange world, especially since there was the promise of Frankenstein’s Monster™ and a rogues’ gallery of memorable creatures that you’d find in the Victorian era serials known as “penny dreadfuls.”
There is a reason that this series gets pulled up every time that a new Eva Green movie comes out. While she has become more selective in her work, the early 2010s were the glory days. We were spoiled with her throwing herself into a role Nicholas Cage-style where nothing was too strange. Even if few of these could be considered masterpieces, her commitment to the roles was something to behold, and you felt like you were watching one of the most exciting performers of her generation. I still feel that way, even if nobody would argue that Dumbo (2019) takes those kinds of risks. Her role is genuinely weird, but not because of anything she’s doing.
However, her career-defining work as Vanessa Ives has created a perfect cult for a reason. The series doesn’t exist solely to create surrealist nightmares for the audience with phenomenal set and costume designs that transport you to the moment. The story focuses on a group assembled to take on the supernatural forces that haunt Victorian London. It’s got characters that you probably have heard of with Dorian Gray (Reeve Carney) and Dr. Frankenstein (Harry Treadaway). There’s also gunslinger Ethan Chandler (Josh Harnett) rounding out the cast as they go on adventures that take the audience into this dark and demented landscape.
There is a reason that Ives became the central figure in the series. While there aren’t any bad performances, she was the one who confronted something unknown, more interpretive. She was constantly battling demons that enter our souls, wishing to take over and corrupt the world. Even while this is happening, there’s a belief that her professionalism will shine through. She becomes a one-woman show, managing to confront these powers with a raw focus that few performers could pull off. If you think that you’re a gifted actor, you try acting opposite a demonic doll while conjuring up a spell that will save the world.
There is a passion in Green’s eyes that I haven’t seen too many others bring to their roles. She buys into this wholesale in a way that lures you in, wondering if what you’re watching is real. The amount of times that she becomes possessed finds Green stretching her own physicality, finding new ways each time to make her face twitch with a darker soul clawing its way out. Even at her most brazen, we have this sense that we’re watching magic, and it is. This is the reason that we’re watching. There is pathos in this detective mystery like no other, elevating the shlock into visceral joy.
To the series’ credit, it also creates a deep and emotionally rich internal life for Ives. As the story progresses, she evolves from a sidekick character to something more central. That may just be because the creators realized how much brilliance Green brought to the role. You can watch “Séance” and see a woman possessed, crawling across a table and spouting vile gibberish and feel like you’re witnessing a genuine demonic possession. Nobody could be as ravaged by internal horror as Green, and it did her character well when the demons became more dramatic during the third season when she had to face psychiatric evaluation.
The first season is a bit uneven as to who gets focus, but that may just be because nobody expected the series to be more than a gimmick. It was a show built largely on properties that we recognized, only transported into a violent, sexual Showtime series that had the gall to murder Frankenstein’s Monster within the first few episodes and dedicate time to Dorian Gray’s debauchery. Even the fact that it had the restraint to not tackle Dracula mythology until the third season shows how much more room this series had to grow. It may have covered the Top 40 of classic horror by this point, but you believed (nay, wanted) that Penny Dreadful was going to be that series that never ended.
Then again, it was just the show that felt like it was always doomed to cult status. It was nowhere near as accessible as The Walking Dead – choosing to mix high-wire chaos with darker character moments – and that made the show exciting to watch every week. It was our little secret, where it was borderline prestige horror in every way but reputation. It was dirty, scrappy, and not afraid to take risks. This wasn’t your Once Upon a Time. It was one where characters ended the episodes bruised, emotionally erratic as they tried to regain sanity that felt like it was slipping from them. It was something that Green understood especially well, making these three seasons an evolution like no other.
Rarely has a character that was this manic allowed to feel so grounded within the world of horror. Not only that, but the track record for Showtime series has been largely on a downward slope for each subsequent season. This was not the case for Penny Dreadful. The further along it went, the greater, more ambitious it became and created this world of profound wonder. There was a love for this genre that few shows thought to put into things, and it became especially endearing when the show decided to end on its own terms. Yes, it came with a tragic and controversial finale, but that was more the effort of the writers than any forced hand. This was a show confident enough to follow instincts, and it’s something to admire.
But don’t worry about Reeve Carney. He recently was the lead in the amazing Tony-winning musical Hadestown and I suggest you check that out right now.
I wish that I could go into City of Angels with the same enthusiasm. While I understand that Penny Dreadful was more than one actress, I doubt that I would’ve been as drawn to the world without her. I am sure that the writers will bring with them a dedication to continuity and expand the world in ways that I’ll enjoy. After all, I am a sucker for a good Los Angeles mystery and it’s a logical extension of the original. It doesn’t make total sense, but I imagine that Dormer’s time on Game of Thrones will have prepped her for this journey. Even if it ends up being one season of madcap journeys, I hope it finds a way to evolve the property and not just use name recognition.
Even then, Penny Dreadful was one of those great miracles that you don’t often get in life. There’s not a whole lot of horror shows that can use Frankenstein, Dorian Gray, and Dracula among other sources, and not make it seem chintzy. I have been encouraged by the news that people have discovered the series on Netflix, binging its 27 episodes run in quick, addictive precision. I have been tempted to revisit the series at least once every month if just because my Eva Green fix isn’t being fulfilled elsewhere. I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough one of these days, but there’s a reason that she stands out to me. She’s crazy, sympathetic, charismatic, and a whole lot more of unexpected joy every time she’s on-screen. I still haven’t found a show that’s been as sincere and loving to its weirdness as this without having some ick factor. This comes from a place of love, and it informs perfectly why this show excels where others fail.
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