The moment Emma Stone‘s Whitney Siegel freezes mid-laugh, her eyes darting wildly as if she’s just remembered something horrifying, is when The Curse reveals its true nature. It’s not just a comedy about a cursed marriage; it’s a psychological unraveling disguised as domestic farce. Created by Nathan Fielder and Benny Safdie, this 2023 series blends the absurdity of reality TV with the discomfort of marital dysfunction, resulting in a work that is equal parts hilarious and excruciating.

The premise is simple but effective: newlyweds Whitney (Stone) and Asher Siegel (Fielder) are filming their own HGTV show while trying to conceive a child. But when an alleged curse disrupts their lives, their relationship—and their sanity—begin to unravel. The series leans heavily into the performative nature of domestic bliss, contrasting the polished veneer of Whitney’s TV persona with the raw dysfunction behind closed doors. This duality is where The Curse shines brightest.

Stone’s performance is a masterclass in physical comedy and emotional vulnerability. Her ability to shift from bubbly enthusiasm to quiet despair within seconds is remarkable. In one standout scene, she delivers a monologue about the pressure of “having it all” while her face betrays the terror of realizing she might not. The camera lingers on her expressions, forcing the audience to sit with her discomfort—a technique that becomes one of the series’ most unsettling trademarks. Fielder, meanwhile, plays Asher with his signature deadpan awkwardness. His delivery occasionally stumbles into flatness rather than intentional humor, but his chemistry with Stone is undeniable. Their dynamic is the series’ emotional core, even when the script lets them down.

The supporting cast adds texture to the narrative but with mixed results. Barkhad Abdi and Oscar Avila bring depth to their roles as Whitney’s colleagues, while Hikmah Warsame and Nizhonniya Austin feel underused despite their potential. Christopher D. Calderon’s Fernando, a contractor with a penchant for conspiracy theories, steals scenes with his bizarre one-liners. His character serves as both comic relief and an uneasy reminder of the absurdity lurking beneath everyday life. Benny Safdie’s Dougie Schecter feels like an extension of Fielder’s brand of humor—awkward and repetitive—but his presence adds a layer of meta-commentary on the nature of reality TV.

Visually, The Curse is a standout. The cinematography often mirrors Whitney’s fraying psyche—tight close-ups, disorienting angles, and a color palette that shifts from warm domestic hues to cold, sterile tones as the narrative darkens. A particularly effective sequence involves a dinner party where the camera lingers on guests’ reactions in real-time, amplifying the discomfort of forced social interactions. These moments showcase Fielder’s penchant for realism, even when the subject matter veers into surrealism. The series also makes clever use of jump cuts and abrupt transitions, mirroring Whitney’s deteriorating mental state.

However, The Curse is not without its flaws. The series suffers from unnecessarily long episode runtimes, a common pitfall of premium television. Fielder’s tendency to linger on awkward silences or tangential subplots (like Whitney’s bizarre friendship with Safdie’s character) often drags the pacing. The curse itself—meant to be a metaphor for marital strife and societal pressures—lacks clarity. It’s unclear whether the supernatural elements are real, psychological, or purely symbolic, leaving the narrative’s stakes murky.

Thematically, The Curse excels when it zeroes in on shame and self-sabotage—topics Fielder clearly has personal experience with. Whitney’s desperation to maintain control mirrors the pressure women face in domestic spaces, while Asher’s passive-aggressive withdrawal reflects modern masculinity’s struggles with vulnerability. These insights are compelling but often get buried under the show’s tonal whiplash. The series also touches on themes of performativity and authenticity, questioning whether happiness is a genuine state or just another role we play for others.

The Curse is not an easy watch. It demands patience and a tolerance for discomfort, much like Fleabag or The White Lotus. But where those series maintain a sharper focus on their central themes, The Curse occasionally loses its way in tangents and uneven pacing. The series is for viewers who appreciate dark comedy and psychological tension but may frustrate those seeking a cohesive narrative or consistent humor.

In the end, The Curse is a messy, fascinating experiment that doesn’t quite stick its landing. It’s bold enough to demand attention but uneven enough to test patience. The series is a show that will provoke strong reactions, whether admiration for its ambition or frustration with its execution.