Every episode of Roar, ranked by weirdness

There’s a lot to be excited about with Apple TV+’s new anthology series Roar. It’s based on Cecelia Ahern’s 2018 short story collection, and was created by Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch, who also helmed Netflix’s canceled-too-soon . What’s more, the cast boasts big names like Nicole Kidman, Issa Rae, and Cynthia Erivo, as well as GLOW alums Alison Brie and Betty Gilpin. At best, though, the show is an amusing idea for an anthology. At worst, it’s a mixed bag of eight whimsical female-centric stories, not all of which pay off.Each distinctive episode centers on its protagonists’ very relatable issues, but those problems aren’t explored in a straightforward narrative. There are larger-than-life twists, from romancing a duck and eating photographs to living on a shelf and discovering suspicious bite marks. The surreal nature of the show is meant to elevate each half-hour, and that’s accomplished to a highly varying degree. Some installments are hard-hitting, while others offer nothing substantial beyond immediate quirkiness. Now that Roar is out (the whole season dropped on April 15), The A.V. Club is ranking every episode in terms of just how bizarre things get, and we’re counting down from the least to most absurd installments.Enjoy—and beware of mild spoilers.

Cast: Fivel Stewart, Kara Hayward, and Alfred MolinaIn this coming-of-age tale, a young Jane (Stewart) sets off on a revenge mission to kill Silas McCall (Molina), the man responsible for her father’s death. It’s a spin on classic Western movies that usually run on testosterone, vengeance, and shootouts. Instead, Jane and her friend Millie (Hayward) embark on an adventure that strengthens their friendship. It’s a sweet episode that’s the least bizarre of Roar’s offerings—so much so, it almost feels out of place.

Cast: Issa Rae, Nick Kroll, and Griffin MatthewsIf “The Woman Who Disappeared” has any absurdity, it’s overshadowed by the weighty story it presents. Wanda Hill (Rae) is excited about her bestselling novel turning into a Hollywood movie. At a meeting for the film, head honcho (and total dudebro) Doug (Kroll) takes over the project to turn it into a profitable virtual-reality venture about Black Lives Matter. The terrible idea robs Wanda of her voice and vision to the extent that she begins to disappear. No one can hear or see her because her opinion doesn’t count. The meaningful episode simply highlights how corporations, and their typically white leaders, use Black art for their own benefit with no consideration for the artists. The half-hour feels -esque, minus the eccentricity.

Cast: Cynthia Erivo, , P.J. Byrne, and Jordan WeitzThis visceral half-hour is grotesque but not as weird as several of the other outings in the series. Ambia (Erivo) has recently given birth to her second child and resumed her busy corporate job. Her husband, Greg (Johnson), is a stay-at-home parent. As she jumps back into her professional life, she notices random bruises on her skin that increasingly get worse. It’s easy to assume a sinister twist awaits (maybe Greg is abusive?). Instead, the episode deals in an impactful way with Ambia’s guilt over not being around her family. It’s a gruesome manifestation of how feeling culpable—even if she has no reason to feel guilty—can eat away at a person, especially a mother torn between two worlds.

Cast: Nicole Kidman, Judy Davis, and Simon BakerRoar keeps it simple—well, simpler than one would expect—with its Kidman-led episode. (Last year’s , or the upcoming , are far odder roles for her.) Here she plays Robin, who is dealing with two different familial events. Her teenage son is off to college just as Robin is helping her mother, Rose (Davis), move into the house after she was diagnosed with dementia. In order to preserve her own childhood memories, Robin develops the habit of eating printed photographs. Chomping on them briefly transports her to her past. Yes, it’s quirky, but her eating habits barely move the plot along. The idea doesn’t do justice to its talented leading star, although Kidman is still terrific here. The emotional significance of Rose and Robin’s road trip saves the episode.

Cast: Meera Syal, Bernard White, and Peter FacinelliAnu (Syal) lives in maybe the most exciting universe of all time, where a wife who is dissatisfied with her husband can return him to a store. Talk about the American dream. After 37 years of a boring marriage, Anu decides to get rid of her partner, Vikas (White), and find a suitor who doesn’t see her as a caretaker. Vik is discarded into an aisle with the other sad-sack returnees, with a discount tag promptly attached to him. (It’s a shame the episode later mellows down on this exuberant concept.) Ultimately, it’s a serious lesson on the importance of communication in a marriage, made even more complicated by the central couple being Indian immigrants who were brought together as an arranged marriage. Anu is forced to reconcile with her decision when her neighbor “purchases” Vik. The tale then turns into a jealous push-and-pull as Anu does some self-reflection before deciding on her future.

Cast: Alison Brie, Hugh Dancy, Chris Lowell, Ego Nwodim, and Jillian BellThis is a murder mystery wrapped as a feminist fable about violent crimes against women. It’s an intriguing blend of genres, too. Becky (Brie) has no idea why her soul is stuck in this realm after getting killed. Ghost Becky inadvertently assists the two officers on her case. She also believes her purpose is to help gruff Det. Bobby Bronson (Dancy) sort out his life. (This is where the episode loses track of its main story.) “The Woman Who Solved Her Murder” plays with supernatural elements as Becky struggles to communicate her existence. The absurdity comes from Becky watching others react to her death and then processing her own feelings about it before solving the crime. It’s an unusual,–style spin on thrillers with a timely message to boot. No spoilers here, but Brie’s lively performance brings it all home.

Cast: Betty Gilpin and Daniel Dae Kim “The Woman Who Was Kept On A Shelf” is a gripping half-hour about a woman struggling with her independence and identity. Amelia (Gilpin) is a successful model who marries an initially loving Harry (Kim), only for him to keep her on a custom-built shelf in their huge mansion as a prop: a literal trophy wife, if you will. This episode works because of its visual quirkiness; shot after shot of Amelia, decked in absolutely gorgeous outfits, chilling on that tiny shelf to appease Harry. The small space becomes her whole isolated world. Eventually, his attention dwindles, so she seeks to go outside again. Her weighty decision is indicative of how difficult it is to escape a manipulative relationship. Amelia’s climb down is a loaded moment. It looks fairly easy, but for her, seeking freedom is a monumental step. Gilpin delivers a masterclass performance when Amelia goes in the sun for the first time in years. In freewheeling dance, she rediscovers the simple joys of a beach or doing yoga in the park. So Yong Kim’s direction work makes it all the more worthwhile.