Rabid Series Review: A bizarre and unsettling pandemic-inspired take

This Filipino horror anthology series taps into the many substantiated and unsubstantiated fears brought about by the Covid era. The subjects of isolation, claustrophobia, paranoia and the sheer extremes one may need to confront for the sake of survival, are captured rather well in this four-part inaugural instalment. Rabid is both bizarre and unsettling, taking a leaf from the current pandemic’s playbook to explore the innumerable psychological effects the virus has unleashed on an unsuspecting populace. The fact that these psychological aftershocks are still being diagnosed, just tells you how little we know about the full extent of the disease. Much research and study may have gone into its physical manifestation (and rightly so), but not enough has been explained as to how Covid affects brain functioning. The show excels at distilling that uncanny fear of the unknown. The first two parts are infused with a lingering sense of unease. There are clear horror elements at play, but the eeriest aspects are firmly rooted in reality; that reality being the new normal.

Director – Erik Matti

Writers - Michiko Yamamoto (Story & Screenplay), Mary Rose Colindres (Screenplay), Leovic Arceta (Screenplay)

Cast – Jay Glorioso, Chesca Diaz, Jake Macapagal, Ameera Johara, Donna Cariaga, Ynigo Delen, Vance Larena, Pam Gonzales, Ayeesha Cervantes

Streaming On – Netflix

Part 1 (Bad Luck Is A B*tch) presents a Filipino family going about their day when they come across an old woman. Her cardboard sign states that her son died of Covid while taking care of her, and she has no means of returning home. The mother takes her in, feeds her, and introduces her to the family. The husband and daughter voice their fears, which are dispelled quickly by the simple argument that she is a frail lady who can neither hear nor speak. What harm could she possibly cause? But trusting easily - best intentions and goodness of heart, notwithstanding - have consequences. The next part (HM?) is about a recently-unemployed single mother who has a brainwave to begin an online home-cooking business in the middle of the pandemic. She combs through the internet, requesting influencers in the space to provide her with valuable tips, but nothing comes of it. The general consensus is that her cooking is subpar. However, the words “secret food ingredient” typed desperately into a search engine are set to change her fortunes forever.

Part 3 is light on dialogue and heavy on atmosphere. Unfolding in black and white, Nothing Beats Meat is presumably set in an undefined future where a pandemic has wreaked havoc. It tells the story of a couple residing in an underground shelter. The wife is afflicted by an unknown virus, giving her the appearance of a zombie. Her hands are perpetually bound, and she needs to be fed and given water. Guttural, animalistic sounds are all she can manage. The husband, who remains unscathed by the illness, tends to her as if one would an invalid, but his affection and enthusiasm do not dim for an instant. Nothing about the situation is normal, but he sees and treats his wife like the human being she once was, not the unrecognisable entity she has become. Sh*t Happens is the last offering of the anthology’s first season. It follows a young nurse working the night shift of a hospital. She is required to assist an elderly patient with mental health issues. Unnerved by the interaction, she goes back to her desk. An old, comatose, wheelchair-bound female patient is seen in the hallway. Assuming responsibility for the strange patient is only the first nightmarish step the inexperienced nurse will take on that never-ending graveyard shift.

The show succeeds in passing on a sense of claustrophobia to the viewer. Being trapped in a restrictive environment, with no means of escape, is a metaphorical nudge to isolation/quarantine in the times of coronavirus. Each narrative is set in similar environs. Nothing feels open, free. Whether it is the oppressive presence of a supernatural being overpowering a hapless household or the existence of a long-since-shut-down Covid ward operating in a parallel dimension, you are bound to feel boxed in. Bad Luck Is A B*tch starts off strong, with the weirdness surrounding the new entrant quite palpable, but fails to sustain once the reveal makes itself known. That being said, the wide-ranging theme of class/privilege and the all-around acting, must be commended. Part 2 is undoubtedly the highlight of the series, delving into the human condition via its mother-son-triumph-and-tragedy narrative. Not just does it score on the unsettling quotient, its emotional angle (culminating in a deft touch of artistic irony) stacks up well against similar Hitchcock fare. Though Nothing Beats Meat puts forth a powerful message of unconditional romantic love, it ought to have been longer, thereby according additional insight. The final part suffers from too much melodrama, rendering its horror and violence ineffectual.

On the whole, Rabid’s inaugural season captures the more horrifying aspects of the new normal, presenting the unknown and the bizarre on the backdrop of a raging pandemic.