As a fantasy romance series, Shahmaran feels like it could be something more. Blending in Turkish folklore and a steamy romance, the show is based on the legend of the titular feminine mythic creature and a prophecy promising Shahmaran’s return, if only they’re willing to make the same sacrifice she did long ago. There’s something here about coming to terms with your past, whether that be your heritage or your family’s history of mental illness and trauma. However, the show’s slow pace can dissuade viewers, and the series can’t help itself from leaning too far into the drama of it all.

The concept of fated love is a motif shared through many myths and legends for a reason. When done well, the promise of destiny feels like a potent fantasy for people looking to feel intimacy and connection with someone else. What stands out in Shahmaran is that fate isn’t good to its lovers here, given that their prophesied love is more a harbinger of doom, and that it’s the cause of Sahsu’s hallucinations. It’s an interesting idea, and instead of rooting for the two because of fate, the hope instead is that their love would be strong enough to overcome this curse. However, there’s something eerie about their relationship. The entire Mar community refuses to share anything to Sahsu, to the detriment of her safety. Maran’s family is obsessed with the idea, using binoculars to spy on Sahsu’s room, keeping tabs on her, and trying to convince Maran to fall in line. It toes the line of being cult-like, but it doesn’t feel like the show will acknowledge this. It feels like the show would just blame it on fate.