The camera lingers on a pair of hands, kneading dough with unsettling precision—this is our first glimpse of the eerie domestic horror at the heart of The Horror of Dolores Roach. Prime Video’s adaptation of Aaron Mark’s podcast brings a grimy, gothic edge to Washington Heights, where gentrification meets cannibalism in this darkly comic dramedy. With Justina Machado as the titular Dolores, the series leans into its absurd premise with surprising conviction, though it stumbles when it tries too hard to wink at the audience.

Dolores Roach (Machado) is a newly released convict navigating a neighborhood that’s been transformed while she was locked up for 16 years. Her survival hinges on an unlikely partnership with Luis Batista (Alejandro Hernandez), who runs Empanada Loca above her makeshift massage parlor. When threats to their fragile stability arise, Dolores and Luis descend into a spiral of murder and cover-ups, turning human remains into empanadas in a macabre twist on Sweeney Todd’s meat pies. Machado is compelling as the resourceful but desperate Dolores, balancing vulnerability with cold-blooded pragmatism. Hernandez, meanwhile, brings an off-kilter charm to Luis, whose obsession with Dolores borders on unhinged.

The series’ strength lies in its willingness to explore themes of displacement and desperation through a grotesque lens. The gentrification angle isn’t just backdrop—it’s the fuel for Dolores’ crimes, as she fights to reclaim her place in a world that’s moved on without her. The production design nails the gritty authenticity of Washington Heights, from the cramped apartment to the bustling streets outside. The short runtime (30-minute episodes) keeps the pacing tight, though it occasionally feels rushed, particularly when trying to balance dark humor with genuine suspense.

Where The Horror of Dolores Roach falters is in its tone. It wants to be a modern gothic fable, but the constant self-awareness—whether through Dolores’ deadpan narration or Luis’ over-the-top cannibalistic tendencies—undercuts the tension. The series also struggles with consistency; some episodes land the balance between horror and comedy beautifully, while others feel tonally disjointed. The supporting cast is strong, particularly Kita Updike as Nellie Morris, whose quiet competence grounds the chaos, but some characters (like Marc Maron’s Gideon Pearlman) are reduced to caricatures.

The series’ cancellation after one season feels like a missed opportunity. While it never fully escapes its podcast origins—there’s an undeniable staged quality to some scenes—the potential was there for a darker, more ambitious exploration of its themes. The Horror of Dolores Roach is for viewers who enjoy their horror with a side of satire and aren’t afraid of messy, morally ambiguous protagonists. It’s not for the faint of heart or those looking for polished, prestige TV.

Machado’s performance is the anchor of the series, grounding the absurdity in something tangible. Her Dolores is equal parts sympathetic and terrifying, a woman pushed to extremes by circumstance rather than malice. Hernandez holds his own as Luis, though his character veers into campiness at times. The chemistry between them is undeniable, making their twisted partnership the heart of the series.

The series also benefits from its exploration of gentrification, a timely theme that adds weight to the otherwise outlandish premise. Washington Heights isn’t just a setting; it’s a character in its own right, a neighborhood caught between its past and an uncertain future. The series uses this tension to explore what happens when people fight for survival in a world that’s left them behind.

That said, The Horror of Dolores Roach isn’t without its flaws. The humor can feel forced at times, and the pacing is uneven, with some episodes struggling to find their footing. The series also suffers from a lack of ambition in its storytelling, occasionally feeling like a staged podcast rather than a fully realized television drama.

But when it works, it works beautifully. The first episode sets the tone perfectly, introducing Dolores’ world with a mix of dark humor and genuine pathos. The supporting cast adds depth to the story, particularly Jessica Pimentel as Flora Frias, whose play about Dolores adds an interesting layer of meta-commentary.

The Horror of Dolores Roach is for viewers who enjoy their horror with a side of satire and aren’t afraid of messy, morally ambiguous protagonists. It’s not for the faint of heart or those looking for polished, prestige TV.