Alex Casey reviews the return of Creamerie, a black comedy set in a world where a virus has killed (nearly) all the men.
The lowdown
Created by Roseanne Liang with longtime collaborators Ally Xue, JJ Fong and Perlina Lau, Creamerie is a dystopian black comedy set in a world where a deadly virus has killed every man on the planet (at least that’s what they think). Living under a new (and deeply sick) wellness regime helmed by Lane, a dainty devil in pink chiffon, society now runs on menstruation festivals, saying “oh my goddess” and continuing human reproduction through a bizarre sperm lottery.
Enter dairy farmers Alex (Xue), Jamie (Fong) and Pip (Lau), whose world curdles after they discover a living, breathing man, Bobby (Jay Ryan), on their property in the very first episode. Chaos ensues as they decide what to do with their prisoner, setting out on a journey to find out if he really is the only man left on Earth. We last saw our heroes as they discovered the truth about how their new world order operates, in what is surely one of the most shocking reveals ever committed to local screens.
The good
Season two picks up exactly where season one left off, right in the middle of Lane’s semen farming hell factory. The brutality established in the opening scene remains unrelenting for the rest of the episode, as the group face off against a litany of henchwomen, suspicious guards, and eventually each other. We get to know a bit more about Lane’s horrifying sperm bank system, as two captive “good boys” in matching rainbow knits reveal that they get to watch telly and eat jelly in exchange for their daily “expressions”.
Is there anything like Creamerie on local television? No. Is there anything like Creamerie on television anywhere? Probably not. Evoking such rich dystopias as The Walking Dead and The Last of Us, Creamerie is not afraid to pepper in glimmers of the wider world that awaits, casually breadcrumbing mentions of “the resistance” groups and “safe” places. This isn’t a show that will beat around the bush (“I prefer my bush unbeaten,” says Pip) but instead throws you right in the deep end of its gender-swapped, extremely tense, corrupt universe.
Creamerie feels like a singular vision, refreshing in its total confidence and commitment to the genre. It also helps that it looks incredible. As the group try to make their escape across the country, the lush green New Zealand forests and winding, empty roads have never looked more sinister. From the jangling rows of jizz vials to the steampunk torture devices at Lane’s disposal, Creamerie is packed with some pretty unforgettable imagery, and Jigsaw himself is probably taking notes from Liang for whatever horror device he’s cooking up next.
The bad
Based on the first episode, there might not be as many laughs on the horizon for season two. Before we knew about The Truth in season one, Creamerie was all dorky moon cup costumes and “no us in uterus” taglines, but now the mood has shifted. Perlina Lau’s Pip still provides some incredible one-liners – “I always show gumption in times of strife!!” – but there’s not much comic relief to be found otherwise. There’s also a near-lynching and a brutal stabbing, so don’t expect to be sitting down to some chilled-out, easy-breezy entertainment.
(A note from the future: I will admit that I also watched a bit of episode two, and there are a few thrilling comedy cameos in the wings, and a bit more trippy tomfoolery to come.)
The verdict
Roseanne Liang told The Spinoff yesterday that season two is “Creamerier than ever”, and I have to agree. This is full Creamerie, so make sure you savour it and don’t drink it all at once.