I know like three things about the Magnus Archives based on osmosis and those are that it's really spooky, it's sad a lot, and there's morally lacking old men involved with 90% of the spooky and sad things. Sounds terribly engaging.
Oh yes, it really is. But also there is a lot of humour in it, especially when you take a step back from the situation and deconstruct it—eg eldritch creature doesn’t know much about humans, so it signs up for a class. Ragtag crowd must go off to save the world, but are implored to save their receipts as well so that in case they succeed and make it back they can have them expensed. That sort of thing. (Think Hannibal’s puns. A lot of that type of thing, even more on the relisten... the eyes have it.)
But what I like most about it is that it’s aware of exactly the story it is telling, why, how, and the audience it wants tells it to. A ‘by us and for us’ type thing. And as a self-confessed cosmic horror nut—and content creator—I can say that a serious problem in the genre is its refusal to take accountability for the Lovecraftian tropes it is based on, a laziness at best and resistance at worst to interrogate, subvert, and reclaim them, which is a shame as they are so ripe for the taking. Lovecraft was a bigot even back in Lovecraft’s day and to deny that his views are reflected in his narratives—to deny that those narratives run as a current through horror going back to the genre’s inception, as exploitation of fear of ‘the other’—is something I no longer have time for.
And The Magnus Archives gets it so, so right because the way it presents horror elements never delves into exploitative sexual violence, or any of those old stereotypes of mental illness, racism, anti-semitism, transphobia, ableism, homophobia, misogyny, xenophobia etc—which when deconstructed unfortunately form a large part of the backbone of ‘the canon’ of horror. This means that in dispensing with these entrenched narrative shortcuts people who have faced marginalisation and discrimination can actually enjoy it. If I can sum this up, its central question is more what is fear rather than who should I fear, and I feel this is the shift that is required in horror if it is to remain something that is relevant going forward.
I think you’d enjoy it. It’s a gorgeous, subtly-layered thing and a lot of thought and love clearly went into it, and its biggest strengths lie in the quality of the writing, sound design, and VA work.
Oh yeah and it’s canonically queer—how about that?