The Beauty

In short, The Beauty is a return to bingeable Murphy goodness (and a harking back, subject-wise, to arguably some of his best work, Nip/Tuck).

“The Beauty” is one of the most captivating shows Murphy has released in a long while, invoking previous hits like “American Horror Story,” “Nip/Tuck” and “Pose.” It’s a sci-fi body horror that, despite comparisons, will likely win over fans of “The Substance.”

FBI agents Cooper and Jordan, played by Evan Peters and Rebecca Hall, are called in to investigate. While other strands of the plot come with a high dose of kitsch, these two – Peters in particular – ground the show in some sort of reality.

It’s a better and more cohesive series than Murphy’s “Grotesquerie” and slams home a harsh point — that we are all to blame when it comes to worshipping beauty.

Ryan Murphy’s deliciously demented new series zips past “The Substance” to deliver its own serial-killing take on body horror. It’s a dose of fresh hell for the Ozempic era.

The Beauty wears its influences loudly. But given the material, it’s a good approach.

It’s ridiculous, certainly, but it’s entertaining too. .... The Beauty thinks it’s smarter than it ultimately is, but against my better nature, I did find myself somewhat enjoying the show, with its big-budget, ritzy locations and gorgeous production design.

The Beauty is focused, gruesome and just funny enough to keep things moving. All of this is miraculous, given Ryan Murphy’s recent track record.

Audacity, again, is the show’s calling card. It is also a series that, though utterly wacky, is increasingly absorbing, thanks largely to the cast.

All in all, this show is best appreciated as a wild ride. Murphy excels at world-building, and his skills are on full display here. Yes, there are some annoying tics (like overusing the theme song), but the show, for all its faults, is still an immersive experience.

The Beauty puts all of its ideas on the surface of the story, leaving little room for interpretation or ambiguity. But it’s so entertaining—and feels so timely without being a doomy drag—that it seems uncharitable to complain that it isn’t a masterpiece.

“The Beauty” is a frenzied ride that will undoubtedly endear audiences at times and have them begging to get off at others.

Some storylines are meant to be poignant but are overwhelmed by the weirdness or feel exploitative, or the characters aren’t dimensional enough to move you. There are plot twists, of course, and rejiggerings, but it’s too obvious to be really terrifying; the game is given away early. .... At the same time, there’s enough nonsense, edging into ridiculousness, that the series might best be approached as a black action-comedy — at the end of the opening scene, the gendarmes are splattered with pieces of supermodel — or a very fancy B (maybe C) picture. “Star Wars” built an empire on the latter.

Especially in its later going, it takes its fantastical “what if” premise to uniquely off-kilter places, in the process transforming its maiden season into a tantalizing jumping-off point for even loopier potential follow-ups.

For a while, watching the highlights are worth sitting through the lowlights. How many other shows can have an Emmy winner (Peters, so great on Mare of Easttown) casually deliver a line like, "an assistant editor at Vogue combusted in the Condé Nast cafeteria today"? But even in the early going, Murphy, Hodgson, and company struggle to find a narrative focus, and they let the story completely unravel by the end.

In a cascading series of unmotivated twists, enemies team up, a villain has an unconvincing change of heart and the whole thing ends on a frustrating cliffhanger. But give Murphy and company credit: “The Beauty” may be semi-hollow headed, but it’s never boring.

There’s literally no way of predicting what might happen next on The Beauty, leading to a sometimes appealing kind of chaos as it stretches to accommodate its eclectic cast.

Expanding on earlier themes from Nip/Tuck, Murphy’s repellent comic-book adaptation is an absolute riot yet lacks the substance of a recent horror film that goes by the exact same name. 

There are far too many episodes, another modern disease, but I will say this for it — it isn’t boring.

The Beauty’s flamboyant approach to that Ozempic-meets-HIV premise is impossible to forget and is also, for better and for worse, some of the most stimulating work out of the Murphy machine in years.

The Beauty is about as subtle as a root canal without Novocain, but thankfully it’s a lot more fun. If you can stomach it.

One of Murphy’s most thought-full (if not thoughtful) shows in years. It’s highly debatable how many of those thoughts are fresh or original or fully examined, but it’s a busy show that will keep many viewers occupied trying to make sense of its breadcrumb trail of familiar ideas and familiar twists and turns.

While the likes of The Substance and Dead Ringers offer in-depth explorations of their character’s psychological struggles (through extended and escalating body horror), The Beauty pales in comparison, offering only surface-level insight into the interiority of the characters. .... The series is also visually stunning – as fans will have come to expect from a Murphy production – and has a great cast.

Considering the show ends on a brutal cliffhanger, there is hope for a second season that will only succeed if it tightens its grip on the storytelling. Despite its kitchen sink of ideas, there is still plenty to gain from watching the series, including beautifully grotesque instances of body horror, oddball storylines, and novel performances.

The writers never settle on a tone, but that does not seem due to a lack of ambition. Seemingly recognizing these sober times, they explore more serious societal issues — if too briefly.

“The Beauty” merely reinforces Murphy’s distasteful infatuation with mixing nudity, violence and (several times) nude violence—a sort of Reese’s peanut butter cup that puts lurid taste treats together.

“The Beauty,” which, like so many of Murphy’s shows, is pastiche held together by proud vulgarity and a sadistic streak. .... None of this quite hangs together.

It’s TV, in other words, designed to be glanced at, but not necessarily watched. Other beauty products are available.

With muddied messaging and a preoccupation with the beauty standards it is seemingly critiquing, "Beauty" fails to be anything substantial.

Despite setting aside any pretense of being taken seriously, there’s scant material to be savored across 11 repetitive episodes.