Scream Queens is Ryan Murphy's best TV show

Scream Queens’ opening scene is a doozy. The slasher comedy kicks off in the ’90s with a group of Kappa Kappa Tau sorority members desperately wanting to dance to TLC’s “Waterfalls” during a house party. It’s their song, okay? Nothing else matters. So what if a fellow sister has just given birth in a bloody bathtub—it’s gross, and no one’s dealing with “the postpartum mess.” The mother inevitably dies, her baby survives and disappears, and the show jumps 20 years ahead. This sets the stage for season one’s silly suspense and even sillier tone. It both fits and supersedes co-creator Ryan Murphy’s usual, er, extravagant narrative flair.

Murphy is a master of over-the-top projects that aren’t necessarily good like The Politician, Ratched, and American Horror Story. (The latter boasts 12 increasingly ludicrous seasons.) But nothing is as amusing and gleeful as his work on Scream Queens. The show, which ran from 2015 to 2016 on FOX, is a bizarre attempt to parody horror comedies. (In a 2015 interview, he even claimed to invent the genre. Who doesn’t love a little self-delusion?) Scream Queens’ heightened reality, exaggerated performances, emphasis on caricatures instead of fully formed characters and, frankly, totally cuckoo writing resulted in an electric and unbelievable two seasons. It is, without a doubt, the best and goofiest TV show Murphy has brought to life so far. (He co-created the series with Brad Falchuk and Ian Bremmer.)

As Scream Queens unspools its masked murderers, the mystery becomes less and less compelling, even as the show hits all the genre basics (the red herrings, the gory kills, the cliffhangers…). The writers don’t even wait until the finale for the big reveal. The protagonists and villains are defined solely by one awful trait, with their lines and personalities developed around it. On paper, none of this should land. At all. Yet, Scream Queens works, with Murphy bringing together the best parts of AHS and Glee, his other notable hits. Plus, every actor is in top form here. Emma Roberts, Niecy Nash, Jamie Lee Curtis, Keke Palmer, Lea Michele, and Glen Powell clearly understood the assignment to be freaky.

Season one follows the Red Devil targeting current KKT members in the name of revenge, writing messages like “Sluts Will Die!” on their walls. It’s almost too easy to root for the culprit because the sorority sisters are a bunch of wealthy, narcissistic fools. Wallace University’s reigning queen bee, Chanel Oberlin (Roberts), is especially devious and racist. “Turn me into Jada Pinkett-Smith,” she says while getting tanned. In another scene, she humiliates a Black pledge, Zayday Willaims (Palmer), with a white marker. Her compatriots here are useless, suggesting a game of Truth or Dare to zero in on the killer. It’s Pretty Little Liars’ level idiocy, but who cares? They’re being indulgent, not making any sort of meaningful commentary. It’s the only way to process SQ. Meanwhile, another KKT rookie, Hester (Michele), insists on calling Chanel “Mommy.” So, yeah … who would ever root for them once the killer starts hunting?

Scream Queens, to be sure, is extra as hell. But it triumphs—and is very funny—because Murphy and everyone involved completely embrace this quality. The now-legendary moment of Chanel ordering her coffee is proof, as is Nash’s Denise Hemphill yelling, “Why you got a knife stuck in your throat?” when she discovers her friend’s slumped body. There’s no struggle to be earnest, something that hurt other Murphy shows like The Politician and 9-1-1. At first glance, Scream Queens seems to take inspiration from Scream, but it’s more akin to Scary Movie, a spoof that knew just how to push the buttons of the genre by being as unabashedly stupid as possible. It knew, in other words, how to have fun.

Season two isn’t nearly as addictive, but the premise keeps SQ’s lunacy intact by having Dean Cathy Munsch (Curtis) open a hospital to cure the incurable. Almost everyone from season one ends up working there, and finding themselves the target of a killer called the Green Meanie. (Yes, really.) Now, this is a medical center with a swamp and quicksand in its back yard, so it’s immediately clear how deeply unserious everything is going to be. The medical cases are insane, and werewolves, skin tumors, and other horrors abound. Once again, the actual suspense is too silly to genuinely care about because it’s … not the point.

Scream Queens mostly makes it work by doubling down on Chanel and Cathy’s hatred for each other, exploring Hester’s psychotic brilliance, and throwing a delightful John Stamos into the mix. Notably, Curtis gets to pay tribute to her mother, Janet Leigh’s famous Psycho shower scene. Scream Queens’ comedy is derived heavily from pop culture and political references, with random quips about everything from ABC’s Quantico (remember that FBI drama?) to Twilight. Take Denise’s excellent joke after waking up from a cryogenic chamber: “How’s Hillary working out as President?” (The writers also touch on slasher films as well as other moments from the zeitgeist throughout the series’ run.)

Sure, Scream Queens is not perfect, but it hits a uniquely entertaining stride. It may not have gotten the eyeballs, ink, or awards that serious projects like Dahmer (ugh, maybe his worst?) and American Crime Story did. But the show captures the most exciting, even unhinged, avenue of Murphy’s talent. And we’d love to see him take a walk down that dark and silly street again.

Scream Queens is available to stream now on Hulu.