Stream It Or Skip It: ‘John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams’ on Peacock, Where The Horror Legend Helms An Anthology Of Docu-Scares

Peacock refers to the six episodes of John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams as an “unscripted horror anthology,” and it marks the renowned filmmaker’s return to directing after a decade-plus absence. Carpenter, who helms one episode, is also a producer here, an introducer – “True stories so terrifying because the horror is real,” he tells us in voiceover during the opening sequence – and he also composes the series theme, lending it a bit of the scintillating spooky synth grooves he brought to horror classics like the original Halloween and the left field spooky szn banger Prince of Darkness. Still, Carpenter’s involvement feels a bit like vibes only, as Suburban Screams relies heavily on the generic docuseries format of talking head interviews combined with reenactments. 

JOHN CARPENTER’S SUBURBAN SCREAMS: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? 

Opening Shot: “The following is a true story…” we are reminded, and an aerial shot reveals what looks to be a body, shrouded tightly in red as it’s carried on the stiff current of a wide river.  

The Gist: It’s not a body. It’s a person. And she’s alive in there, gasping for breath. But in order to learn about her story, we need to travel back to 1999 Ontario with a man named Dan, who says in a contemporary interview that everything started with a random Ouija board experience. “I regret playing,” he says. “I wish I wouldn’t have.” And then reenactment takes over, introducing us to Past Dan, his girlfriend May, and his housemate Joey. Prone to partying, the group one night decides to impulsively explore the world of spiritualism. But without one of the Hasbro game boards everyone had in their childhood handy, Dan fashions his own Ouija from the lid of a pizza box, complete with a cardboard planchette to be whisked across the letters. “We call upon the spirit world,” Dan intones in the stilted reenactment, “and welcome any spirits to talk with us.”

The horsing around and nervous laughter hushes quickly as four sets of index fingers ride the planchette and it spells out K-E-L-L-Y. Kelly? As in May’s cousin who recently disappeared after falling in with a crowd of drifters and drug users? And noises upstairs lead them to find the kitchen furniture stacked at an impossible angle. “Am I going crazy?” Dan remembers thinking that night. “Is it possible something from the other side can communicate with us?” Compelled to try and contact Kelly again, they return to the Ouija, at which point Dan vomits muddy river water all over his homemade board. 

“I felt like I was losing my sanity,” Dan says. And as he describes becoming ever more obsessed with finding out what happened to Kelly, Suburban Screams tinges the reenactment with a smattering of horror movie tropes – a pallid hand reaching for Dan in his sleep, mysterious wet footprints tracked across his floor, and a vision of a woman, her features caked in theatrical decomp. “Help me…” 

As Dan’s visions continue, they lead him to consider what tangible evidence he might offer police in solving Kelly’s disappearance. But he keeps driving out to the river, hoping to find closure, for both himself and what he believes is the restless soul of a woman who was taken too soon.    

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Netflix disinterred Unsolved Mysteries in 2022, and the three new volumes of the veteran docuseries definitely lean on eerie coincidence and peoples’ yearning to find what they believe is the truth. And the recent Hulu doc Demons and Saviors did its own bit to add questions of paranormal activity to a true crime frame.   

Our Take: Ultimately, that’s what John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams feels like – yet more fodder for the bulging glut of true crime docuseries material. Initially, the freakier elements of Dan’s story have the ability to put a tingle in your neck. But the series setup, as straightforward and superficial interviews in the present bounce off reenactments that serve to illustrate the story in the past and not much more, channels the sort of documentary stuff that nowadays populates every single streamer’s offerings. While it’s impressive that Past Dan was able to whip up a Ouija board from memory with little more than some cardboard and sharpies, it’s not scary in the least. Combine an already clunky reenactment with a smattering of played out horror movie imagery – and never go back to try and explain the kitchen furniture moving independently or Dan’s voluminous river water puking – and the overall sense of Suburban Screams is that of a run-of-the-mill docuseries instead of anything trying to actually terrify its audience. We found ourselves wishing for an on-camera introduction to the stories from John Carpenter himself, which would have at least provided a further link to his legacy of horror filmmaking. As it is, Suburban Screams is a dead-end cul-de-sac.

Sex and Skin: None.

Parting Shot: In the present, Dan still tears up talking about it. “I would like Kelly’s case to be solved,” he tells his interviewer. “I think that’s why I’m sitting in this chair.”

Sleeper Star: “In our suburbs” – spidery keyboard stab – “evil lurks behind closed doors…” We’ll award the Sleeper Star to the brief introduction for Suburban Screams, which does include narration from John Carpenter and a theme composed by Carpenter, Cody Carpenter, and Daniel Davies that harkens back to the filmmaker’s synthesizer-heavy movie music.  

Most PIlot-y Line: “Kelly…are you…here?” Who among us hasn’t touched the planchette in hopes of conjuring a spirit from the great beyond… 

Our Call: SKIP IT. John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams leans far too heavily on docuseries and true crime mechanics to really consider its horror elements, which ultimately just feel like window dressing. For a real Carpenter fix, all you need is a few minutes of this. 

Johnny Loftus (@glennganges) is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift.