If the eight-years-and-counting wait for Creep 3 and the return of modern horror cinema’s most unlikely villainous icon is proving unbearable for you, along comes six half-hour mini-stories featuring Mark Duplass’ oddly loveable psycho manchild sometimes referred to as “Peachfuzz”* to tide you over until then.
Each episode functions as a Creep movie in miniature and, indeed, series co-creators Patrick Brice and Mark Duplass confirm that each episode is a pitch considered for Creep 3. The first episode is kind of a remake of Creep, in which Duplass’ character advertises to find a filmmaking collaboration/potential intense friendship/possible lover, and we see the found-footage result of that. It’s entertaining, especially if you need a refresher on the nature of the franchise. You could even jump in here without having seen the two prior movies, but I wouldn’t exactly recommend it. If nothing else, you’d be missing two good films, and honestly the series doesn’t quite reach the heights of those films anyway.
Episodes two, three and four present variations on the same basic premise, but with thematic variations on the scenario as commonly seen in sequels or episodic television: skydiving, the Church, true crime documentary. These are likely better-enjoyed when watched weekly, rather than in quick succession the way I experienced them. We know the viewpoint characters are doomed, and we know that our antagonist character will continue to get away with serial killings even as his body count racks up to numbers that are beyond improbable in the real world; a problem, incidentally, that slasher-movie spinoff series Wolf Creek also runs into.
But in any case it’s episodes five and six that are the best reason to give The Creep Tapes a look. These are the two episodes that feel like they actually might have worked as Creep 3 pitches, for they offer something we haven’t seen before. Episode five, “Brandt”, is almost a theatre play, Duplass in a motel room seeming to slowly lose his mind as he and his alter ego “Peachfuzz” wait for the Godot-like Brandt of the title. It’s an interesting and – to this reviewer – dissatisfying episode, for we are given instances of phenomena that could only be supernatural. Yes, you can assume that what we’re seeing is through the eyes of madness, but that’s a bit of a cheat in live-action, isn’t it? Still, it remains an interesting look at the depths of our lead character’s madness, beyond his emotional intensity and offbeat cinephilia.
And then episode six, “Mom (and Albert)”, ends the series on an undeniable high note. It’s probably the only episode that genuinely keeps you guessing with its confusing, mutually gaslighting relationship between Duplass and his mother/mother figure/Freudian goldmine. She’s an intriguing character, Krisha Fairchild’s performance mingling maternal frustration, sexuality and ambiguous psychosis. She’d be welcome to return to the franchise any time – if anything, it’d be a disappointment not to see her again., and this is the only episode that actually feels squeezed into its sub-half-hour runtime. That’s not to say that the others outstay their welcome, but they’re correctly-paced for what they are, delivering their ideas compactly. Here is an episode that could really stand to stretch out and breathe. It’d be nice to see more, is what I’m saying, and I guess that’s what we’ll be getting soon enough as Shudder adds to its roster another franchise that could serve as its flagship with its sheer low-key competence.
*which is really the name of his imaginary friend/alter ego with the scary wolf mask, but we don’t have any other name to call him.