Ratched (2020) Season 1 Review
- Daniel O'Connor
- Oct 3, 2020
- 4 min read
Developed by Ryan Murphy (Glee, American Horror Story) and starring Sarah Paulson (The People v. O.J. Simpson) in the titular role, Ratched details the origin story of cult cinema's most infamous villain...or does it? Netflix's newest original series - the prequel to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - is the latest product of misleading marketing. Unlike its compelling promotional campaign, Ratched focuses less on Paulson's nefarious nurse and more on the dramatic yet uninteresting events of Lucia State Hospital. I was disappointed, to say the least.
Milos Forman's acclaimed 1975 film garnered five Academy Awards (incl. Best Picture) yet Ratched will likely only grab nods for its stylish set and costume design - although game, Paulson isn't given much scenery to chew. The series' distinct colour-block aesthetic is vibrant and Mildred's array of novelty, fashion-forward outfits are captivating but alas, this is where the praise ends.
"raunchy Ratched"
After his unnecessarily graphic Hollywood, the questionable plot developments throughout American Horror Story and now this, I am convinced that Ryan Murphy has a *peculiar* fascination with sex. It is a recurring theme across most of his projects, and raunchy Ratched is no exception. Many of the characters - from barbaric serial killer Edmund Tolleson (Finn Wittrock) to demented amputee Henry Osgood (Brandon Flynn) to Nurse Ratched herself - have a strange obsession or history with sex. This becomes most apparent during Episode 3 (dir. Nelson Cragg) when the viewer is forced to watch a sleazy handjob, erotic role-play and the introduction of a patient with a deranged sexual disorder. This show certainly had one horny writing room!
It is not the sexual themes themselves that are shallow, but Murphy's terribly unsophisticated execution. How can the viewer be expected to feel sympathy for Ratched's harrowing childhood trauma but amusement from Henry's bizarre condition as well as affection for Edmund's crass and blatantly toxic Florence Nightingale love-story? By attempting to have its cake and eat it too, Murphy's show never truly explores the intricate complexities of abuse, mental illness or relationships.
Edmund's love interest is, possibly coincidentally/likely ironically, named Dolly (Alice Englert). Dolly is a young, pretty and impressionable nurse at the hospital who naively becomes intertwined in Ratched and Edmund's theatrics and her only purpose is to provide Edmund with "human contact" as part of his rehabilitation. She literally becomes Edmund's sex doll yet, by Episode 6 (dir. Jessica Yu), the scriptwriters want us to root for the forbidden lovers. Wasn't gonna happen, Murphy! Moreover, Dolly's demise is uncomfortably glorified with the show opting for a slow-mo effect to magnify each wounding bullet. This thankless, derogatory and objectified female role exits Ratched as a punching bag and is never mentioned again. Alice Englert, I'm sorry.
"unapologetically violent"
In business it is commonly assumed that sex and violence sell, and Ratched - currently the #1 series on Netflix - is packed with both. Anybody familiar with Louise Fletcher's 1975 depiction of the titular nurse will associate her with, among other brutal treatments, the dreaded lobotomy and Ratched wastes little time teasing this. In fact, four stomach-turning, unwatchable lobotomies are already carried out by the end of Episode 2 (dir. Ryan Murphy) which will spark a crucial choice for most viewers: Should I continue watching Ratched even though it just played its biggest card and still has six hours to go?
Fans of gruesome gore and torture porn will appreciate the other sickening 'remedies' on offer at Lucia State Hospital but, those like myself, will question the show's taste level. In Episode 3 a homosexual patient endures a torturous 117° bath to treat her lesbianism, and with that, the viewer is also forced to witness the inhumane and discriminatory procedure. In addition, the script fails to explain or justify the necessity of this scene, suggesting it was solely included for 'spectacle'. It's also comparable to the over-the-top violence that Murphy himself parodied in 2015's Scream Queens which opens up a whole other discussion for a different day.
I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, Ratched is unapologetically violent from the outset. Antagonist Edmund Tolleson is introduced through a blood-sputtering killing spree in Episode 1 (dir. Ryan Murphy). However, Finn Wittrock's equally damaging performance is actually more painful to behold. Wittrock's excessive face-acting, cringey line delivery and generic styling all deter from an otherwise thrilling and suspenseful series opener. The actor develops some nuance as the season unfolds, but it is the script's courteous character development that does a lot of the heavy lifting.
"a perverted, convoluted and uninspired melodrama"
Instead of a chilling character study à la 2019's Joker, Murphy has created a perverted, convoluted and uninspired melodrama. The series' narrative lacks focus, progression and direction. It starts off disguised as the 'origin' of Nurse Ratched, a character intriguing enough to carry 8 hours worth of story, yet Murphy introduces more complex characters who ultimately snatch Ratched's screen-time. There's the unnecessary subplot surrounding Sharon Stone's culture vulture heiress, the introduction of cartoonish DID patient Charlotte Wells (Sophie Okonedo) and a half-hearted LGBT+ relationship...Murphy's latest is undoubtedly overwritten.
Although it does set up a luring second season, Ratched's final episode (dir. Daniel Minahan) only confirms that this series was not an origin story, and that anybody expecting or hoping for it to be had wasted their time. The anticlimactic finale is mostly made up of hypothetical dream-like scenarios and takes its time concluding/advancing the narrative. It also strips Ratched of her powerful status and repositions her as a vulnerable victim. All this time, behind the mighty, shrewd and manipulative Ratched has been an even stronger and scarier Edmund, and yet again the villain has become the anti-hero...yay!

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