So, how soon is too soon?

Apparently, the answer is "never." It's been a year since the Hamas attacks in Israel, and the content machine has decided that's plenty of time for the trauma to marinate. Now it's ready to be served up as premium streaming drama. HBO and Paramount are in a race to the bottom, dropping One Day in October and Red Alert within days of each other, both fictionalized accounts of a real-life horror show.

Let's just pause and read the PR script, shall we? Fox says they approached their series with "the utmost care, sensitivity and urgency." David Ellison at Paramount promises "artistic excellence and accuracy."

"Urgency." That's the one that gets me. The urgency to do what, exactly? The urgency to process a global tragedy through art? Give me a break. It’s the urgency to stake a claim, to turn a headline into intellectual property before the blood is even dry. It feels gross. No, 'gross' doesn't cover it—this is a calculated, ghoulish piece of corporate strategy dressed up in the language of empathy. They want to turn it into content before the bodies are even cold, and for what? For subscribers, for buzz, for...

I just can't. It's exhausting.

Storytelling or Just Brand Extension?

The Ghouls, Clowns, and Conspiracies

And look, it’s not like the rest of the October slate is some bastion of thoughtful originality. The content grinder demands bodies, and it doesn't care if they're real or fake.

Next up in the ghoul parade is Ryan Murphy, of course, with Monster: The Ed Gein Story. Because what the world needed was another installment in his serial killer franchise, this time focusing on the guy who inspired Psycho. Charlie Hunnam dropped 30 pounds for the role, which is the kind of awards-bait trivia they love to push. We get it. He's a serious actor. But I'm just so tired of fetishizing these broken men. We've scraped this barrel clean.

Then, just in time for Halloween, we get to go back to Derry. Again. It: Welcome to Derry is a prequel to the movies that were a remake of the miniseries based on the book. Bill Skarsgård is back as Pennywise, which is fine, but the creator is already talking about mapping out three seasons going further back in time. Three seasons? It's a clown that eats kids. It ain't The Wire. This isn't storytelling; it's brand extension. It’s wierd.

At least Tim Robinson is trying something different with The Chair Company. He and Zach Kanin from I Think You Should Leave are doing a full series about a guy who thinks his office furniture company is a criminal conspiracy. It could be brilliant, or it could be a sketch stretched way too thin. Robinson says the character is "not as tough of a hang" as his other roles, which is a low bar. Honestly, the premise just reminds me of the war I waged for six months to get a chair with lumbar support at my last real job. Maybe there is a conspiracy.

Real Anger and a Forced Universe

At Least The Brits Are Angry

If there's any glimmer of hope in this pile-up, it’s coming from across the pond.

First, there's Riot Women. The pitch alone is better than half the stuff on this list: five menopausal women in Hebden Bridge form a punk rock band. It's from Sally Wainwright, who gave us Happy Valley, so it’s got the pedigree. Joanna Scanlan's character says it all: "We sing songs about being middle-aged and menopausal and more or less invisible. And you thought The Clash were angry." Yes. More of this, please. Something with a pulse. Something that feels like it was written by a human being with something to say.

Then you've got Down Cemetery Road on Apple TV+. Emma Thompson and Ruth Wilson. That's a heavyweight pairing. Thompson is a PI and Wilson is an art restorer looking for a missing girl after an explosion. It's based on a Mick Herron novel, the guy who writes the Slow Horses books. Wilson says it has the same "humour and wit as Slow Horses" but is structurally different. I'll believe that when I see it. Apple is desperate to make "Mick Herron Universe" a thing, and I'm skeptical they can catch lightning in a bottle twice.

Welcome to the Content Recycling Plant

Filling the Hours

And the rest? It’s just… content. It’s stuff to have on while you scroll through your phone.

The Diplomat is back. Keri Russell is great, Allison Janney is now the president, sure. It's a perfectly fine show that I will watch and forget almost immediately. Aidan Turner and Bradley Whitford are joining, because you always have to be adding new faces to the mix.

The Last Frontier sounds like a script they found in a filing cabinet from 1997. A creator literally described it as "Con Air meets The Fugitive." Are we supposed to be excited by that? A plane full of convicts crashes in Alaska. Jason Clarke has to hunt them down while suspecting the CIA is involved. I feel like I've seen this movie a dozen times already.

Even the non-fiction feels recycled. Apple has a five-part documentary on Martin Scorsese. I love Scorsese. You love Scorsese. But how many more documentaries about him do we really need? We get it, he's a master. It's got interviews with De Niro, DiCaprio, Spielberg… the usual suspects. It'll be fine. It’ll be perfectly respectable. And completely unnecessary.

Then again, maybe I’m the crazy one here. Maybe this is what people want. An endless stream of the familiar, the shocking, and the comfortably prestigious. A story about a rabbi and an agnostic podcaster (Nobody Wants This) getting a second season with Seth Rogen as a guest star. A Harlan Coben thriller (Lazarus) that, for once, isn't based on one of his books. It all just blends into a low hum of streaming noise, designed to keep you subscribed for one more month.

So This Is Entertainment Now?

It’s all just fuel. Real-world massacres, 70-year-old murder cases, Stephen King's back catalog, a director's entire life's work. It all gets fed into the same machine. The machine doesn’t care about sensitivity or art or originality. It just cares about watch-hours. And it is always, always hungry.

Reference article source：

• Nobody Wants This to Mr Scorsese: 11 of the best TV shows to watch this October - BBC