Yvonne Strahovski, Scott Speedman in The Peacock Thriller

At the kind urging of Peacock, I can't tell you much about their new thriller-style film, Tea cup.

I can't tell you what the series is actually about, even though it is based on the novel by Robert McCammon Stingso the information is easy enough to find if you're interested. I can't tell you what happens to most of the main characters, although I'm not sure under what circumstances I would have been tempted to do so anyway. I can't tell you about the really crappy special effects that inspired the rainbow treatment of the show's title — and, like, fair enough, though no one will actually be thrilled with the discovery when it arrives.

One thing I'd like to tell you, without revealing which character says it, who it's said to, or the general context in which the words are spoken, is that the last line of the eighth and final episode of the season is: “We're not going anywhere until you tell us what the fuck is going on.”

It's a sentiment that 99% of viewers will have already expressed to themselves as both a request and a statement of fact, as this is one of those shows that absolutely stops short of coming out and directly articulating a specific narrative. details, in order to retain them for the majority of the season. That choice is infuriating but also makes perfect sense, since then Tea cup he gets sillier and stupider the more breadcrumbs he scatters.

Most of these are delivered in the 51-minute fifth episode, a flashback-heavy slog that abandons the reasonably brisk pace that was previously the drama's main asset. This marked the point for me Tea cup it went from enticing, if never emotionally engaging, to completely monotonous.

So, within the limits of what I can say without spoiling things, what is Tea cup From?

Well, adapted by Ian McCulloch (Yellowstone), begins with a woman wandering frantically through a forest, her hands tied together. He's mumbling a jumbled mix of words, the most distinguishable of which are “Murder Marker.”

At a nearby farm we meet the Chenoweths. Maggie, a vet who we are repeatedly told does well under pressure, is giving her son Arlo (Caleb Dolden) an object lesson in foreshadowing/hand symbolism, catching a wasp or hornet against a window using a TEA CUP! She has the child listen to the angry bug clacking against the porcelain and says, “It's a storm in a teacup.” Soon their lives will be a storm in a teacup. That literal teacup and other teacup observations make recurring appearances until the writers eventually get bored and move on.

In addition to Arlo, Maggie has daughter Meryl (Émilie Bierre), who she can name Romeo and Juliet and knows details about the cows' stomachs and her husband James (Scott Speedman), who is in the dog house for predictable reasons. James' mother, Ellen (Kathy Baker), lives with them. He has MS. Something strange is happening to their animals.

Enter the Shanleys, the family next door: husband Ruben (Chaske Spencer), wife Valeria (Diany Rodriguez) and teenage son Nicholas (Luciano Leroux). Their pets also behave strangely. Each of them has perhaps one personality trait each. Namely, Ruben is intense, Valeria is in the doghouse for predictable reasons, and Nicholas loves to tell bad jokes.

They're joined by Don (Boris McGiver), a neighbor who I think is supposed to be “conservative,” because he says something sarcastic about COVID. I assume his animals are acting strangely too.

Pretty quickly, they all get trapped on Chenoweth's property. The phones don't work. Their cars won't start. And if they stray too far… bad things happen. There is evil afoot that can take any form or inhabit any body.

For the first two episodes, directed by Evan Katz and Chloe Acuno (James Wan, whose Peacock involvement is selling aggressively, executive produces but doesn't direct), Tea cup at times it is disturbing and insinuating. Because a line of dialogue says so, the story is set outside of Atlanta. But its bucolic setting is designed to be a Rural Anywhere, where neighbors know each other but not closely, and yet can band together when their pets start acting strangely. It feels like an incitement to something allegorical, except that, with apologies for that one line about COVID, this series doesn't really say anything particularly interesting about our threadbare sense of contemporary community life.

It has the form of a meaningless parable, just as all of its contents have the form of dimensionless characters, and the plot has the form of countless horror and science fiction TV shows and films without ever feeling specific and distinctive. (In the end it's mostly just a rip-off The thingwhich saves me the trouble of listing other inspirations that might be spoilers.) It's a puzzle not because the characters are trying to figure things out, but because the creators are evasive and hope viewers will nod and play along.

While none of the actors are bad – Strahovski, Spencer, Dolden and Bierre, in fact, are getting impressive value out of minimal material – the mystery overshadows any human element. At one point in a later episode, two characters list the body count so far and I had to pause because I couldn't remember a single significant death. You're not really rooting for or against anyone, just for someone, anyone, to put their feet on the ground and announce, “We're not going anywhere until you tell us what the fuck is going on.”

Much could be forgiven or obscured within Tea cup if it was just scary. Aggressively it is not. The simple image of the mysterious figure wearing a vintage gas mask is powerful, but once the characters appear wearing that gas mask, there's nothing else. While I completely understand why these people use them occasionally (and why someone must have hoped that the undercurrents of COVID implied depth), practicality is one of countless details that the characters on screen simply accept. Viewers are apparently expected to do the same, especially after the endless fifth chapter, when the writers basically throw up their hands and say, “Look, we've told you two or three things and given you different nicknames for things we think are interesting, why?” Isn't that enough?”

There's one disturbing thing that happens as a result of the central situation that I can't reveal. When it happens the first time, it's disgusting and hilarious (and cheating, for reasons I won't go into detail). When it happens the second time, the look is disturbing, but the visceral response is gone. When it happens a third time, the disinterest is so complete that it must set some sort of record for general desensitization.

If the last line of the first season wasn't the most damning thing anyone could say about Tea cupperhaps I should point out the use of Linda Ronstadt's cover of Tom Petty's “The Waiting” in the finale. It's not that the waiting is the hardest part. It's just that for eight mostly half-hour chapters, the waiting is the ONLY part. Maybe you'll be able to take it on faith or take it to heart, as this series pretty much demands, but I've run out of interest.