This new six-part comedy series is as razor-sharp as a vampire’s fangs, skewering everything from the horror genre’s historically iffy treatment of people of color, lazy media stereotypes of Muslims, and real-life fixtures of Islamic communities. It never feels bogged down by the weight of the issues behind it, though, always staying true to the lightness of its silly — but ingenious — concept.

The show follows the goofy Abdulla (Arian Nik), a British-Pakistani trainee doctor and horror nerd who has enough on his plate — what with an unavailable crush and the social pressures of being a not-so-perfect Muslim — without also having to contend with being turned by vampire-dominatrix Kathy (played with gusto by Jaime Winstone). Writer Kaamil Shah manages to pack an impressive amount of cutting humor into each 20-ish-minute episode, whether through Kathy railing against the appropriation of vampire culture during Halloween (presented less as an anti-woke joke and more as a wry analogy to media misrepresentation of real minorities) or a wink to Muslims about the epidemic of hypocritical haram police in our communities. This balance between universal humor and inside jokes that speak directly to — rather than over the heads of — British Muslims makes Count Abdulla a very welcome addition to TV comedy in general, as well as a refreshing widening of the horror genre.

Created by Janine Nabers and Donald Glover (Atlanta), Swarm is a dark and bloody deep dive into fan culture. It follows Dre (Dominique Fishback), a young woman whose obsession with a Beyoncé stand-in takes a dark turn after the unexpected death of a loved one.

Artful, daring, and legitimately scary, Swarm is one of the bolder shows to come to streaming in a while. It doesn’t hold back, not with the commentary nor with the blood, which can be too much for some viewers, but if you were thrilled by films like Misery and The King of Comedy, then this mind-blowing take on celebrity mania will certainly have you hooked.

Mysterious and hair-raising, Revenant is a supernatural drama whose demonic possession deals with modern-day detectives and Korean folklore. This strange mix of genres makes the show’s premise slow to unfold, taking time to introduce the complex agents in each part. At front-and-center is working-class woman Gu San-yeong, who gets possessed by a demon. Kim Tae-ri’s expert acting makes both believable, simultaneously terrified and terrifying in equal measure. To be free, Gu accepts the help of folklore professor Yeom Hae-sang, who has been hunting down this demon after his mom’s death. With his mom’s death, as well as many others, being dismissed by the police as suicides, the show questions the reasons behind Korea’s high suicide rate. Acknowledging the struggles of Hell Joseon, Revenant suggests what Yeom advises: To listen, pay attention, and learn the reasons why they’re here.

Though it may seem like it at first, Lockwood & Co. is more than just Ghostbusters by way of YA fiction. For one, it is properly terrifying. The growls and screeches, the misshapen ghosts and the heartstopping jumpscares are all proof that the showrunners know what it takes to create an authentic horror series. The worldbuilding is also impressive; the show rightly doesn’t dump all its secrets in one go and instead reveals them slowly and naturally, which adds to its credibility. 

In lesser hands, Lockwood & Co. might have ended up as cheesy child’s fare, but with a skilled cast and crew behind it, it proves to be stirring for audiences of any age. The impressive CGI and costume design give it a prestigious sheen (it’s not tacky, in other words), while the tender moments make it as relatable as any well-told teen drama.

While this spin-off of Netflix’s previous Castlevania series doesn’t have the most interesting take on vampires, Nocturne’s stellar action scenes and its use of the French revolution as a historical backdrop are enough to give it a personality worth keeping an eye on beyond the first two episodes watched for this review. There isn’t all that much plot in these early installments, and neither are there memorable vocal performances that really capture these characters. But when the show has to be grisly and exciting (which is often), it hits the stake on the head. And even in its more static moments, the vampire characters cast a large shadow over everything, appearing exactly as seductive and monstrous as they’re meant to be—just like the aristocracy they’re meant to represent.

Starting off as the 24th(!) overall season of this long-running TV franchise at the time of its release, The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon understandably treads very familiar ground: general paranoia and distrust, humanity divided into survivalist factions, a search for a cure. In its early episodes, though, this series gets a boost from its uniquely historical setting—which creates a feeling of these characters stuck in a previous century—as well as a strong focus on religious faith in the time of the apocalypse. Still, this spin-off continues to go through the same action-horror motions, sticking to what’s expected at the expense of any suspense or meaningful development for its stoic title character.

While Romancero’s story certainly promises to grow deeper over the course of its six-episode run, the first two episodes that were watched for this review don’t provide much reason to get invested. The series clings to the original appeal of binge-able streaming—it practically demands we watch it all in one sitting—but it also forgets to fulfill the episodic demands of television: that every installment communicate something coherent or at least add something to the whole. And while Romancero does have a persistent eeriness about it, even its horror elements don’t create enough intrigue or a sense of danger (at least in these first episodes).

The show’s decision to throw viewers directly into the action in medias res—no explanations, no initial character establishment—is exciting at first, but quickly saps the narrative of suspense. Similar to the two kids who are shown running from a horde of people in the night in the first episode, Romancero at first doesn’t seem like it’s heading towards anything in particular. It’s a real case of either you’re in or you’re out, and for this writer, the show’s opening moves aren’t enough.