Cassondra Feltus is a St. Louis-based freelance writer best known…
Aaron Mark’s (Random Unrelated Projects) dark, Sweeney Todd-inspired tale of a serial killing masseuse began in 2015, on the off-Broadway stage with the one-woman play Empanada Loca, starring Daphne Rubin-Vega (In the Heights). Three years later, the writer-creator-director turned it into a Spotify podcast called The Horror of Dolores Roach. Now in its third iteration, Mark and co-showrunner Dara Resnik (Home Before Dark) adapted the story into an eight-episode TV series for Prime Video and Blumhouse.
Dolores Roach (Justina Machado) has been through it. We meet her in 2019 as she’s leaving New York State, having served her 16-year prison sentence for possession with intent and assaulting an officer. Upon release, she takes the unpleasant journey back to her old neighborhood of Washington Heights. However, everything changed while she was away. New establishments line the streets, sidewalks are overrun with hipsters and rich moms, and drug dealers handle not-so-subtle transactions out in the open.
When she goes to her old apartment hoping to see her former boyfriend, Dominic, she finds a young couple occupying it. This overwhelming realization that she doesn’t have a home or anything familiar is just one of many anxiety-inducing sequences. There’s also the maddening fact that she spent almost two decades of her life in prison for marijuana, a drug so common that it’s nearly legal now. (Weed was illegal in New York until 2021.)
Wading through a sea of gentrifiers, Dolores recognizes Empanada Loca, where she finds the new owner Luis Batista (Alejandro Hernandez), a former customer and neighborhood friend who still harbors a mad crush on her. The two catch up over empanadas and weed, and he offers to let her crash in his apartment under the shop. When he finds out that she learned how to give excellent massages in prison, earning the nickname “Magic Hands,” Luis encourages her to put this acquired skill to good use and start her own business as an unlicensed masseuse. And despite only advertising her services on the back of a menu and operating out of a bedroom below an empanada shop, the customers start rolling in.
One of Dolores’ first clients is Luis’ disgruntled landlord Gideon Pearlman (Marc Maron), an older white man who’s the type to be so casually racist that it sets him off when he’s accused of being racist. As seen in the clip released by Prime Video, Pearlman rambles on about the burdens of his job, how he’s from a working-class family and therefore down with the struggle, and how generous he’s being about Luis’ late rent. Dolores tries to keep her cool because he has the power (and intent) to evict them. But he seals his fate when he feels her up.
Dolores’ post-murder mindset goes on a rollercoaster ride of emotions — relieved, exhausted, horrified, and kind of elated. However, she’s quick to accept her actions, immediately going into survival mode, and planning her next move. But her impromptu kill unknowingly helps the shop by providing Luis with Empanada Loca’s new ingredient.
The Horror of Dolores Roach could be a hilarious Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt-type sitcom: an ex-con down on her luck trying to adapt to a new reality while she’s surrounded by eccentric New Yorkers. The tone has the coziness of a fun comedy with its collection of supporting characters. Nellie (Kita Updike, reprising her role from the podcast) is Luis’ one and only employee, often on her phone because business is slow. Then there’s the odd but good-natured delivery guy Jeremiah (K. Todd Freeman) and Caleb (Jeffrey Self), a somewhat stereotypical millennial with privilege and a podcast. We don’t meet Ruthie (Cyndi Lauper) until later but when we do, it’s hard not to love the heavily New York-accented private investigator.
With its blend of dark comedy, drama, and horror, The Horror of Dolores Roach masters the unexpected. An intense moment becomes comical, often turning into something disturbing or heartbreaking. Dolores’ bursts of violence and Luis’ cannibalistic disposal method result in some surprising gore. Hernandez accurately described the series as, “half body horror, half stoner comedy,” with his character taking on the role of weed connoisseur. Naturally, his frustratingly relaxed “everything’s chill, mami” attitude clashes with Dolores’ perfectly valid “I’m going back to jail” anxieties.
Close-up shots and sounds of bloody raw meat, sizzling empanadas, and hands kneading skin create a chilling atmosphere, an impressive accomplishment with the bright and lively Washington Heights. Siddhartha Khosla and Garrett Gonzales, both of whom worked on Only Murders in the Building, enhance and expand on that feeling by alternating somber Sweeney Todd-esque piano, suspense-building violin, and upbeat Latin music. The transition from an orchestral horror score to Daddy Yanky is a trip but an enjoyable one.
The Horror of Dolores Roach is a fascinating exploration of redemption, survival, systemic racism, and gentrification, with some murder, cannibalism, and power dynamics thrown into the mix. This exciting entry into the “good for her” horror sub-genre gives Only Murders in the Building meets Orange Is the New Black, along with its inspiration from Sweeney Todd. The series boasts a culturally diverse cast of talented actors led by Justina Machado and Alejandro Hernandez and their Emmy-worthy performances. The laughs and gasps are so addictive you’ll likely watch all eight episodes in one sitting.
The Horror of Dolores Roach premieres July 7, 2023, on Prime Video.
Cassondra Feltus is a St. Louis-based freelance writer best known for film, television, and pop culture analysis which has appeared on Black Girl Nerds, WatchMojo, and The Take. She loves naps, Paul Rudd, and binge-watching the latest series with her two gorgeous pups – Harry and DeVito.