In a year where horror film franchises have found middling success in episodic format, Season 2 of The Creep Tapes might be the most fruitful. Patrick Brice and Mark Duplass return with more tapes, more victims, and more insight into a killer’s psychopathic behaviors. It’s an inverted “Monster of the Week” program—we know the monster, and tune in to see how he strikes again—and Season 2 makes even better use of the anthology format. It’s a darker, more delicious season that pokes fun at the serial killer subgenre, digging deeper into the horrifying recesses of a delusional mass murderer’s psychology. Brice and Duplass have a blast with Peachfuzz’s encounters, making clever use of each tape’s violent lesson.
Mark Duplass showcases many sides of Josef this season, eschewing redundant rehashes of the first two movies. Episodes range from copycat killers to hilarious standoffs with law enforcement, as Josef is forced to wit and charm his way out of danger. The original films might be more intimate, as they have more space to develop interpersonal relationships between slasher and victim, but The Creep Tapes allows for varied flavors of deception. At twenty-ish minutes per episode, Brice and Duplass face limited runtimes when slaughtering new targets—but the show isn’t about whoever’s slain before the credits. The Creep Tapes is a portrait of Josef, pulling back the curtain so we can see what makes this mask-wearing lunatic so successful, and how he keeps avoiding justice.
It’s the humor of The Creep Tapes that’s surprisingly addictive. Josef has always been a devilish middle-aged scamp, but Season 2 had me doubled in laughter at times. The first episode, where Josef confronts a cut-rate copycat played by David Dastmalchian, is a genius way to subvert expectations from the start while also tickling our funny bone. A later episode starring Robert Longstreet in a Saw-inspired puzzle dungeon is equally comical, as Josef watches his dud of a captive fumble over “easy” clues. Duplass exploits Josef’s immaturity and bluntness with the same smile, but storytelling scenarios accentuate his troublemaker persona. Josef loves playing with his food, which Duplass excellently sells—thankfully, that pitch-black hilarity is this season’s main course.
However, anthology math is a complex equation to perfect, and The Creep Tapes Season 2 is no exception. Each tape (aka episode) is drastically different in approach, and there are undoubtedly some weak points. A particular episode where Joseph preys on an opportunistic documentarian goes a bit too cuckoo, while the season’s Christmas special pushes the boundaries of what we believe Josef can pull off without raising alarms. In striving to vary the box of poison chocolates that is Peachfuzz’s gift to us all, and under tight time constraints, a few concepts fail to match the series’ highest buzzed-about parts. The ratio is favorable, but dips in quality are unavoidable.
Thankfully, peaks heavily outweigh the valleys in The Creep Tapes Season 2. Rivals, curveballs, and dimwits challenge Josef as we get a clearer picture of the man-child who loves axing innocent people in the brain. The additions of Dastmalchian, Longstreet, Katie Aselton, and more provide him with stellar scene partners, whether they’re pleading for their lives or giving off a strangely incestuous vibe. It’s an oddball season for the sickos—a little less Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon, a little more Master of Disguise (but vastly funnier). Duplass pushes his performances to uncomfortable yet charismatic extremes, all while his misadventures wade into Fast Five territory, allowing both creators to let their most curious ideas breathe life into an otherwise predictable blueprint.
The Creep Tapes Season 2 is a nasty piece of work with a rebellious and riotous streak. Duplass isn’t afraid to lose Josef to his least sensible inhibitions, because the way his mind navigates obstacles is the attraction to most episodes. Season 2 is unexpectedly fun-filled, leaving outright horrors behind (albeit a smidge too often). Brice and Duplass have just as dependable an anthology program as Shudder’s recent V/H/S output, which is a testament to the appreciation for both. Peachfuzz might not haunt your nightmares, but Duplass’ performance will stick around way longer than the final episode’s outro.
Movie Score: 3.5/5