'My Sad Dead' Netflix Review: Like Watching A Painful Slow Death

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if a host of ghosts was just watching you in your sleep, or while you’re in the bathroom, or when you’re meant to be alone? Watching My Sad Dead brings this eerie feeling of uncanniness to life in a strange but somewhat hollow manner. While I enjoyed the idea of this show, which makes you feel, more than anything, confused and distraught, I can’t really say I enjoyed the show itself. Is it disturbing? Without a doubt. In just 4 episodes, the Argentinian show covers everything from housing trouble, the handling of the poor, death, grief, the discrepancies between the old and the young, and so much more. It’s certainly got some excellent ideas at its core, but due to the slow and disturbing nature of the show, I’m not sure I can say I had a positive reaction to it.

The 4-part limited series follows a retired doctor named Emma, who finds herself in a grim position after the death of her mother. It opens with the scene of her dying mother, with Emma standing right by her till the end. Emma is a retired doctor, who has been helping people for years, but because her ability to hear the dead is rather common knowledge, everybody seems to lack empathy when it comes to her, mostly because they’re afraid of her. In the meantime, the story that follows the death of her mother is an absurd turn of events, leading to the entire community suddenly having the same ability as Emma and her young niece, Julie. The show then focuses on the dynamic between the town and Emma, her daughter Caroline and her, as well as her relationship with the dead mother she’s constantly looking at at home. Of course, there’s the niece and her mother, i.e. Emma’s sister, too. 

Grief is a complicated emotion, and this town isn’t simply grieving the death of its elderly; it’s grieving the death of their homes, their water, the relationships they’ve shared for years. It’s a cycle that needs breaking. So while all of this sounds interesting on paper, it presents itself as a VHS tape that’s a broken record, almost. Visually too, the show has a pink tint, a color that’s meant to make you feel like you’re looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses, but there’s nothing rose-tinted about this situation. I guess that’s the contrast the director wanted to bring out through his absurdist lens. Or maybe it’s just style. Either way, it adds another layer of visual eeriness to the show. The only other thing I’ve watched of Pablo Larrain is “Spencer,” and I can tell the Chilean director is keen on being stylistic with every choice he makes. In terms of background score, I can’t really say anything, because most of the time you’re hearing the sounds of the dead: screams, moans and whatever else you’d like to call it. It’s certainly disarming, especially when you first start watching the show. 

The 4-part series wants to address a lot all at once. What it does best is comment on the gentrification of small Argentinian communities and the frustration that brings with it through crime, drugs, and ultimately death. It speaks to the helplessness of these communities, and Emma essentially acts like an angel in disguise, trying to bring everyone the peace they’ve been searching for. In addition to its political landscape, the show attempts to address mental health in minors, and takes an interesting route that I’m not sure I fully understand. It’s certainly interesting to see an inclusive body image in this show through the character of Julie, but portraying a minor through a sexual lens, especially when her body doesn’t fit regular beauty standards, is an odd choice to me. Julie’s character is hard to understand; she’s got an awful lot going on, but most importantly, she’s neglected by her parents because of her mental state. Whatever it is that she’s going through, of course it’s unusual and something that needs to be taken seriously, but the way the show frames her scenes and uses her body to convey the message borders on problematic. While I can understand that My Sad Dead is trying to normalise such a body type, in a way, the show is also presenting it in a dark, almost for-a-gag kind of way. This is why I am kinda stuck wondering if I’m repulsed by what’s going on or if it’s meant to make me feel liberated in some kind of way. Well, my only question is: why in horror? Sure, the actress playing Julie is an adult, but the situation itself feels like it could’ve been handled a bit more with care. 

But I suppose that’s as far as I can go sharing my gripes with the series. If you’re looking to spend your weekend watching something unique and really different, then give this one a go; it will surprise you and leave you ruminating, if nothing else. I can’t really recommend the show for everyone, considering the dark matter it deals with, but if you’re okay with handling disturbing content, then give this one a try, because at least on that note it won’t leave you disappointed. However, I must warn you that it is a slow burn, and if you go into it expecting mainstream horror, then you won’t get it. There’s no jump scares or scary ghosts. Everyone here is stuck in the past, and all they need is some sort of redemption.

I found Emma as a character the most interesting bit about My Sad Dead, and Mercedes Moran does an impeccable job of playing her with such grit and determination. The same applies to the rest of the cast, who clearly enjoyed doing such a strange and unique show. Ultimately, I want to give My Sad Dead 3 out of 5 stars despite the hiccups. I found it intriguing to say the least, and that’s more than a lot of stuff we get to see today.