The Absinthe of TV Shows
The singularity of The Curse and Emma Stone's performance in it
“I’m very grateful to the critics—but I’m just learning not to care what you think. But thank you! Thank you still so much it means a lot, thank you!”
That was Emma Stone accepting the Critics’ Choice Award for Best Actress earlier this year for her performance in Poor Things (a very good—and very weird—movie). Unsurprisingly, the entire room laughed when she said that. After all, she did probably sum up what everyone there thought about awards.
The irony with awards is that no matter how much they try to present themselves as meritocracies—they’re not. The struggle with awards is that no matter how much you understand they’re not meritocracies, you appreciate the recognition because you still treat them as meritocracies anyway. This rings especially true in the world of media, where careers rise and fall via the opinions of others. But I’m sure the idea of wanting outside recognition is far from a foreign one even if you’re not in the media sphere. No matter how much you internalize (correctly) that outside opinion isn’t the essential barometer to measure your own progress, you can’t help but search for approval from others because receiving that validation helps confirm that you’ve set yourself on the right path.
Which brings us back to Emma Stone, who is deservingly very familiar with what it feels like to win awards. Despite that familiarity, I have a feeling she might be thinking about her words from her Critics’ Choice acceptance speech in light of Wednesday’s Emmy nominations. She was noticeably absent from the Drama Actress lineup for her performance in The Curse, which you could argue was unsurprising given the show got completely blanked across the board. But even though I’m no critic, Stone and The Curse not being nominated feels like a surprise and a shame (I won’t say “snub” even if I do think so because again, awards are not a meritocracy). As divisive as The Curse may have been, it was at least a better, much more thought provoking piece of television than Season 6 of The Crown, which the Emmys saw fit to nominate for Outstanding Drama Series despite the fact not even Elizabeth Debicki’s performance as Diana could conceal the entire season was—literally and figuratively—a catastrophic car crash. And even if The Curse as a whole may have been too much to handle for voters, Stone not being nominated is shocking considering she gave what I would call the best performance on TV over the past 12 months.
You’re probably rolling your eyes (“He said he wasn’t a critic and now he’s bestowing a critical opinion, someone show me where the unsubscribe button is!”). But you really don’t need to be an expert or a TV fanatic to recognize Stone’s work on The Curse is brilliant. What will help you understand just how brilliant it is though, is understanding The Curse as a show.
Unfortunately, I don’t quite know how to even begin describing The Curse. Did I mention I’m not a critic?
If you’ve watched any other project from the minds of co-creators Nathan Fielder and Benny Safdie my job is easy: The Curse is their take on HGTV. You can attempt to fill in the blanks in that vague statement (you’ll fail), but at least you’ll understand what I’m trying to insinuate when I say “their take.” If you haven’t watched any of Fielder or Safdie’s projects, I can only say that The Curse is a satirical take on HGTV of biblical proportions and implore you try and watch it. “Try” being the operative word there. For while I genuinely do think it’s a good show, it’s also one I hesitate to recommend because I know it won’t be a lot of people’s cup of tea bottle of absinthe. In many ways, that is what The Curse is: the absinthe of TV shows. It’s alien-looking, controversial, an acquired taste, and unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. Not to mention completely overwhelming when consumed on its own. It’s certainly no Slow Horses (a well-deserving Emmy nominee for Outstanding Drama Series this year and, as I said before, the perfect follow-up to a weekend of fast-paced racing at the Italian Grand Prix).
If you still don’t believe The Curse is, to put it mildly, an extremely weird and uncomfortable show, let me tell you about how the “curse” that gives the show its name comes about. Asher (played by Fielder) is pressured by his show’s producer Dougie (played by Safdie) into giving cash to a girl selling drinks so that the cameras can capture a moment of charity. Realizing he only has a $100 bill, Asher proceeds to do exactly what any sane person would do: he gives the girl the $100. Except he then snatches it back from her once the cameras stop rolling. And then proceeds to attempt damage control by telling her he’ll get change for the $100—so he can come back and give her $20. The girl’s (correct) response: “I curse you.” If reading that made you cringe or squirm you’re in luck—the awkwardness only gets more visceral from there. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone stopped eating cherry tomatoes and/or refused to step foot into a chiropractor’s office after watching the show.
It’s clear over the course of the season that Asher is the main source of the show’s eccentrically awkward moments and Dougie is the main source of the show’s chaos, but both characters are more like caricatures that serve the show’s satirical aspects. One of the hosts for a TV show being way too awkward to be on-camera in the first place and an Iago-esque producer who is willing to morph the reality of a reality show in the name of quality content creation are pretty par for the course when you think of how to satirize TV, even if The Curse takes those tropes and runs with them beyond your wildest imagination. As great and uncomfortable as the end results are, this sheer weirdness also makes them easy to comfortably leave behind in the fictional realm after you’ve laughed and squirmed your way through each episode. But things are different where Whitney (Emma Stone’s character) is concerned. She’s just as cringeworthy as Asher and Dougie, but in a way that is distinctly more subtle—and human. Unlike Asher or Dougie, Whitney is sociable. But she’s sociable in a way that makes you cringe the more you watch because you realize that she’s trying so hard to not say the wrong thing and upset anyone that she ends up saying all the wrong things and making everyone around her gravely uncomfortable. It’s this character that hits close to home because, unlike an Asher or a Dougie, chances are you’ve met a Whitney before. More than that, you may have even wondered if you yourself have come across just like her at some point.
However, just because Whitney’s awkwardness manifests in a more relatable manner does not mean she’s a character who deserves sympathy. You quickly realize that, like the mirrored surface of the passive homes she and Asher are building, her try-hard persona is all a facade reflective not of good intentions, but of what she wants you to see so that you ignore the unpleasantries lying inside. And that’s all down to the brilliance of Stone’s performance. Her ability to precisely control how she emotes with her face means that, unlike the sleek and stationary walls of a passive home, she can oscillate between conveying the cracking and crumbling of Whitney’s own walls and the agony and awkwardness of trying to repair them in the blink of an eye. It’s definitely a tough balancing act. Show too little of this turmoil and the character is rendered inconsequential. Too much? The character is rendered farcical. But Stone’s impeccable sense of timing means she gives these glimpses into Whitney’s psyche at exactly the right moments to show just how cold and calculating Whitney is. And once you’re aware of that, you can’t help but do exactly what Stone wants you to do every time Whitney appears on screen: cringe.
It’s tempting to speculate how a show as singular (and I mean that in a good way) as The Curse and a performance as masterful as Stone’s didn’t get recognized by the Emmys. But like Stone herself said, maybe we should all just learn not to care about what the critics say. After all, just because something isn’t an awards nominee or winner doesn’t mean it’ll be automatically forgotten. And like it or not, you definitely won’t be able to forget The Curse once you watch it.