How The Magnus Archives crawled it's way deep into my heart

In the many years of existing on this wretched, cold, godforsaken place called Earth, I've heard many stories in many forms, from books and movies to shows. However, never in my life did I think I was going to get into podcasts and never could I imagine that a podcast was going to become such a vital and important part of my life, intriguing me with it's complex world, a rich tapestry of characters and beautifully haunting writing. However, this did indeed end up happening, and the main culprit was a little horror fiction podcast called The Magnus Archives, season one of which I've finished yeserday, after several months of listening to it in my free time, whilst studying or while doing chores around the house and yard.

(Art by: psychaoticpeace on Tumblr)

Ok, sure, I listened to two other podcasts before this one, however, both of those were documentary ones, ergo, they did not exactly have a story. They were engaging, informative and well written, sure (I mean, Hell, I love a good documentary or non-fiction book, sometimes even preffer them to fiction ones), however, I wasn't really invested in the world, story or even characters for that matter. If you want to know my very brief thoughts on both of those, I'll give you a quick rundown. However, if you're more interested in the review itself, you're welcome to skip this passage.

The first one I ever got into was Aaron Mahnke's Lore (2015-...), as I've really enjoyed the Amazon Prime produced TV adaptation and decided to see what all the fuss was about and ended up leaving the experiance satisfied. I've heard there's books based on the podcast too which I may or may not be ordering sometime in the future because, if you know me, you know I love me some folklore and morbid history.

The second was Voices of Monsterhood (2019-...), which I only checked out because it was created and hosted by a guy who was the creator and host of, at the time, one of my favorite YouTube channels, World of Monsters. It covered fun, niche and well picked out thematic ways to talk about different types of monsters in folklore and media, but it was a bit too talk show-esque for my taste, despite the interesting information. Lore handled this concept far better IMO, but, hey, that's just my opinion.

What The Magnus Archives revealed to me, however, was the fact that there is a whole, new, fresh and exciting type of media out there called fiction podcasts, which are pretty much what it says on the tin, opening my eyes to a plethora of new and exciting titles, such as Limetown, Old Gods of Appalachia, Welcome to Night Vale and The Black Tapes, all of which I am very excited to check out.

In fact, I've actually started listening to Welcome to Night Vale (I'm about two eps in) and I am quite possibly on the ridge of obssesing with it, despite the fact that it's VERY different in both style and tone to TMA, with the latter being a mix of cosmic horror, supernatural thriller, urban fantasy,mystery and pure, unfiltered and heartbreaking human tragedy and the former seeming like the brainchild of H. P. Lovecraft, Alex Hirsch and Douglas Addams (and it's exactly as weird, funny and chaotic as that description sounds).

So, what made me fall in love with it so deeply? Well, let's not stall any further and see what exactly made me so uniquely obssesed, starting with...

(1) The Writing

TMA's writing is phenomenal on multiple fronts.

The majority of the first season (except for the last two episodes) is presented to the audience in a semi-anthological format, as Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the London branch of the institution known as The Magnus Institute for Occult and Anomalous Research (founded by the enigmatic scholar Jonah Magnus in 1818) reads out various statements by people who've had encounters with things not of this world, each stranger, darker and crazier than the last.

• A fellow walking down the street at night encounters a very uncanny silhouette in an alleyway.

• Two sisters end up in a seemingly sentient underground cave system that wants to entrap them both.

• A famous ghost hunter discovers geniuene proof of paranormal activity alongside something far more peculiar.

• A doctor teaches an anatomy class to a rather strange group of students.

These are just some of the many stories presented in the series full of absolute gems that emplore various writing styles and exist in a variety of subgenres and each and every one of them managed to disturb me. But Kris, you read and watch a lot of spooky stuff on a daily basis, how come something as simple sounding as these stories managed to frighten you, but movies, books and shows that traumatized generations failed to do so? Well, to tell you the truth, oh the artificial voice inside my head that represents my audience, I am very much a tough nut to crack when it comes to horror, as, outside of literature, not many other media within the genre geniuenely scares me.

Well, guess Jonathan Sims (yes, the writer/creator of the show shares the name with it's protagonist) had to come along and say Hey, you know how you were scared of the dark as a kid? Probably a good idea to keep up with that proud tradition.

TMA managed to get under my skin so deeply for two reasons.

(1) As with literature, the fact that there are no visual aids to the story adds to it being disturbing, as, not only does it play into the fear of the unkown that's deeply engrained within us all as a species (which is usually a common trope within the cosmic horror as a genre in general), but it also allows us to imagine the world, the characters and, most importantly, the scares, for ourselves, and, as we all know, there's nothing in the world that's scarier than human imagination.

(2) Despite the bizzare and otherworldly elements featured within all of the stories, the show itself remains pretty grounded in reality for the most part. Most of the locations are real, the dialoge between the characters feels authentic and Sims even emplores various writing styles in order to distinguish each individual statement from the rest, allowing each story to stand on it's own two feet and provide a unique and memorable experiance for the listener. All of this  both enhances the horror and makes the characters and settings a lot more relatable, allowing the listener to get further immersed in the world and story (something that's dreadfully missing from a lot of fiction these days). This also extends to beyond the statements themselves, especially when it comes to the banter between the characters, wheater they're the rest of the Institute staff (archival assistants Martin Blackwood, Sasha James and Timothy "Tim" Stoker, as well as the head of the Institute himself, Elias Bouchard) or even episodic characters who come in to make a statement (which only happens about twice in the whole season, but, hey, the show's far from over).

But, the show doesn't just excel in it's horror. I did say it's brilliant on multiple fronts, didn't I?

There's a reason why I said the show's format is semi-anthological, as, if you listen carefully, you'll notice small hints that these seemingly random and unconnected events and people slowly start blending into one another. Seemingly random background characters from one story show up in the a new one a mere few episodes later. Similar motifs like fire, the dark, enclosed spaces, the uncanny valley, etc., and terms like Leitners and The People's Church of the Divine Host keep popping up in cases that seem completely unrelated to eachother. All of this goes to show that this no mere anthology, but, instead, a complex and multi-layered story leading up to a grander conclusion and disturbing revelations. Other than that though, like I said, these stories are so well written in their own right that one would have probably enjoyed them even without the overarching plot being there.

And I already mentioned the banter, so why not talk about it a tad bit more?

Whilst there are more serious interactions recorded between Jon and the rest of the staff (most notably S1E22: Colony, S1E26: A Distortion, S1E39: Infestation and S1E40: Human Remains), just like in real life there's a plethora of moments that fall under the more comedic umbrella that both ease the tension and help the listener relax after about 20 minutes of hearing some of the arguably most distubing stories ever put on paper (my favorites being present in S1E23: Schwartzwald and S1E24: Strange Music) and there are some (like the conversation between Elias and Jon in S1E17: The Bone Turner's Tale) that easily bridge the gap between both. Again, like I said, it helps to both ground the story or even occasionally releave the audience of the tension and allow them to relax a tad bit and it works really well both ways, as each character has a distinct and memorable personality and purpose in the story.

(Art by: romonreynah on RedBubble)

(2) The Performances

Ok, wow, that ended up being a far longer paragraph than I was initially expecting. So, why don't we talk about something else the show executed flawlessly?

Whilst we do get a chance to hear the voices of all of the principal members of the Institute staff (and even a few episodic characters who come in to make a statement, like lab technician Naomi Hearn in S1E13: Alone, paranormal investigator Melanie King in S1E28: Skintight and doctor Lionel Elliot in S1E34: Anatomy Class), we're mostly stuck with Jon for the entirety of the show's run and, to his credit, the guy has an absolutely hypnotic voice and a big part of the reason as to why the stories are so effective is exactly due to his magnetic and eerie performance.

Whilst I didn't have many exposure to podcasts, like a lot of the folks who grew up in the 2000's and 2010's I've had my fair share of experiances with something similar. That being creepypastas or, more specifically, creepypasta narrations. For the less well versed members of my reading crowd, creepypastas, are sort off the online equivivalent to classic urban legends. Short horror stories published online, usually either anonymously or under a pseudonym, primairly written in first person, (however, occasionally one can find examples of third person storytelling being used in them as well) and oftentimes emploring visual aids, such as photographs or videos in order to make the story itself seem more legitamate. Whilst a lot of these can get very popular if they simply exist in written form, a lot of them gain traction through narrations, most often by content creators on YouTube who've made entire careers based off of this trend. My personal favorite out of the bunch, however, is the American freelance author, music artist, cosplayer, comic book artist and just all around goth icon, Katie O'Laughlin, known primarily by her pseudonym Madame Macabre. Other than the fact that the majority of her songs are absolute bangers (I'll link up the playlist of her songs here if you'd ever want to check them out for yourselves because they are brilliant). Whilst she did start her career off with the webcomic The Seer, her YouTube fame, she gained traction mostly due to her absolutely banger songs and narrations of well known creepypastas and urban legends. And, let's just say that isn't a surprise, considering that her voice has that soft and maternal, yet also slightly sinster tone to it that makes each and every story that much more compelling to listen to (in fact, I've literally listened to her original story Have you ever heard of Madeline Jones? mere hours before writing this review).

Anyways, where was I? Ahh, right, Johnny Sims.

If there was ever a voice that gave me goosebumps, it was this one. Similar to O'Laughlin, his demeanor strikes a perfect balance between grounded and theatrical, making the listener feel quite comfortable as it's very easy on the ears, however, at the same time trying to ignore the strange shadowy silhouetts that seem to stand in the corner silently. Observing and crawling closer and closer to them as the episode progresses. Or is that just me?

Sims also manages to sell the more emotional elements of the character he's playing, as we see Jonathan slowly progress from a hardboiled, bitter and overworked skeptic who dissmises each and every statement (culminating in one of my favorite confrontations in any piece of media I've seen) into not just a paranoid believer, but also a visibly physically and mentally broken soul who needs to learn how to cope with the engulfing storm of the strange and supernatural that comes the Institute's way. Sure, we've seen this archetype be done a bajillion times before, however, the pure unfiltered rawness and sincerity in Sims' performance sells it even more to me as a listener. Listening to him finally confessing his true beliefs regarding the subject not only made my jaw drop, but his performance was so emotional I legitimately started crying (shut up, it's you whose weird, not me).

His vocal talents seem to shine elsewhere as well, as the guy also has a band of his own called The Mechanisms and, if you love your music to be a mix of rock, metal and folk, then they'll absolutely be your jam. I've been binge listening to their songs for the past few days now and I am a certified fanboy.

(Art by: piedpiperr on Pinterest)

(3) The Soundtrack

The show is very minimal when it comes to it's usage of music, which, in all honesty, is a good thing, as it enhances the dialoge driven, description-heavy horror of the series perpetuated by the sinister drones of a vintage tape recorder. Despite that, however, on the rare occasions we do get music (most notably in the opening credits of each episode) it perfectly manages to encapsulate the melancholic tone of the series, quite literally telling us that what we're about to witness isn't just a series of tales of inhuman, otherworldly horrors. It's equally as much a story of perfectly human tragedies and fears that perpetuate our mundane daily existence. Sam Jones and Elliot Coner's wonderfully melancholic accompanying soundtrack helps in both increasing the feeling of perpetual dread seeped in every nook and cranny of the world created by the podcast, putting the audience (who are already on edge) into a hypnotic and trance like state, that's equally as distressing as it is relaxing. Honestly, the main theme is probably equally as iconic as the show itself and, whoever hears it once shall never forget it, even for a second.

So, in the end, would I reccomend listening to The Magnus Archives?

The Magnus Archives is a beautiful story that combines within itself all the elements that make horror and urban fantasy so good, delivering a story that's filled with engaing twists, turns and spine-chilling revelations. If you love either of those genres and appreciate when the media you consume is filled with a rich tapestry of nuance and complexity, that manages to combine horror, human drama and mystery all in one place in a beautiful and harmonious melody that echoes as a serenade of the dark and the gloomy, then you'll get an absolute kick out of it. However, keep in mind,this isn't an easy to understand simplistic anthology, so, uhh, buy loads of red thread before you get to listening to it.

Season one's finale made me go through all the feels, as I laughed, cried and shook, sitting on the edge of my seat. I pretty much spoiled myself half the plot of the later seasons (courtesy of reading the wiki and having a best friend whose equally as obsessed with it as I am), however, I am still looking forward to seeing what these characters, who I've grown to cherish deeply, will get up to next.

All I'll leave you with is this: Vigilo. Audio. Opperior.

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