Horror master John Carpenter’s interests have tilted away from directing for some years now, as he’s preferred to focus on other interests like music and his comics company. He’s back in the chair for new Peacock series John Carptenter’s Suburban Screams—and it’s too bad the occasion isn’t a more memorable one.
Carpenter helmed one episode of the six-part show; he’s also one of Suburban Screams’ executive producers, composed the music in his signature style (along with his regular collaborators Cody Carpenter, who’s also his son, and Daniel Davies), and lent his hallowed name to its title. Carpenter’s association with Suburban Screams is easily its biggest draw; unfortunately, the show itself is an uneven mix of true crime, urban legends, ghost stories, and “it happened to me” personal narratives that slide all over the credibility scale, despite each episode being prefaced with a solemn reminder that “the following is a true story.” There are already lots of shows out there that cover the same turf—Peacock itself has a robust true-crime section—and Suburban Screams doesn’t do much to distinguish itself… beyond Carpenter’s involvement.
That said, Carpenter’s entry, “Phone Stalker,” is probably the season highlight, simply because it’s the only one that brings palpable tension to its narrative. It follows a Long Island woman recounting her years-long ordeal being harassed by an anonymous tormenter, an apparent tech whiz whose repertoire included obscene phone calls, texts of hideously doctored photos (plus at least one dick pic), and invasive spy-camera footage.
The other more interesting episodes include “A Killer Comes Home,” which follows the tale of a murderer who terrorized an otherwise peaceful community in New Brunswick, Canada; after he was captured and convicted, he then escaped prison and returned to the area to add to his body count. It unfolds from the point of view of the local newspaper editor, with headlines and vintage TV footage that give its America’s Most Wanted-style recreations some necessary veracity. In a different mode is “Bunny Man,” which investigates an urban legend prevalent in a Washington, DC-adjacent area of Virginia that’s based partially on local folklore and partially on a wave of reported sightings of a man, dressed in a bunny costume and carrying a hatchet, in the 1970s. In this case, the “true story” is more about how residents reacted to the legend, and not about whether or not the Bunny Man actually existed.
The remaining three episodes are all first-hand ghost stories—one Ouija board snafu and two haunted houses—that are impossible to substantiate beyond whether or not you believe the person telling the story; in one instance, the “San Diego County” setting is so clearly not California (Suburban Screams was filmed mostly in Prague) that it further detracts from any illusion of believability. The takeaway is that Suburban Screams doesn’t really know what kind of show it wants to be; its official description tags it as a “genre-busting unscripted horror anthology series” that aims to tap into “premium cinematic scene-work, news clips, home photos, and archival footage, combining the visual language of horror films with the tools and techniques of documentaries, creating a uniquely frightening experience for viewers.” But it’s so inconsistent from episode to episode it feels like picking one genre—true crime, with documentation to back it up; eerie urban legends, with an exploration of local history and cultural context; or even personal ghost stories told with a bit more attention to that “cinematic scene-work”—would have been more effective. Watch the Carpenter episode if you’re a fan and completist. But if it’s reality-based horror you seek, this shouldn’t be where you turn for a satisfying binge.
All six episodes of John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams are now available on Peacock.
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