Even though the situation is a little odd, it’s that fundamental misfit nature of Ida that proves so endearing.  McKee knows how to milk that dynamic for all its worth.  His “May” was one of the more offbeat horror films of recent years, a dark romance that veered into tragedy and murder.  What kept that transition believable was the emotional starting point.  McKee’s sympathy comes into play here, and it saves the episode.

What an episode.  It’s easily the most vulgar and frankly sexual of the “Masters” series yet.  Most of that comes from the way McKee shoots through the story of two girls without ever pausing.  He keeps it simple and real.  The relationship between Ida and Misty (Erin Brown) stays vibrant and believable, so that we never question the sexuality.  We just accept the emotions.  Ida desperately needs companionship, and Misty (what a name) needs . . . what?  Sex?  A sense of belonging?  Some really sweet looking bugs?

Misty has an unfortunate encounter with one of Ida’s newest bugs, which leads the plot down a curvy, goddamn goofy road.  The bug that comes between the two women is a bizarre Brazilian guy with a big proboscis that can extend out and impregnate host animals.  No guesses for what that proboscis represents.  Wink wink.  The bug puppet is a joke.  Literally.  It’s an awful looking puppet, and McKee doesn’t mind.  He shows it often, and he wants us to laugh.

Unfortunately, that take-this-all-in-fun mood provided by the bug (along with an assortment of other weird choices) makes the episode a crazy mix of genre that is never quite sure what it wants.  For example, Angela Bettis speaks as though she were a nun in a Catholic school.  Why?  There’s no real reason for it.  Instead of being endearing, her method of delivery feels slightly dispassionate.

If dispassionate describes Ida, zero-dimensional describes her fellow entomologist, Max (Jesse Hlubik).  Most of his dialogue consists of one repeated line of dialogue is about how hot Ida’s lesbianism makes him.  The first time I heard him talk about her stories as “shower material,” I laughed.  The sixth time, I wanted to punch him in the gonads.  Why take a fun character and give them so little to do?

Erin Brown gets a lot to do.  Misty’s character is one with a few more dimensions and revelations than anticipated.  The astute watchers will probably have their suspicions about her, and they will be right.  It doesn’t matter if her motivations are surprising or not – she’s convincing and alluring when she needs to be, and her gradual transition give the story its real meat.  As an actress, she’s got it.  She can jump from lovable to coy to repellent in an instant.

As for the bug and how it comes between the girls, and how that whole issue is resolved, well . . .  it’s so damned silly that you’ll either laugh your ass off or swear at the television.  I liked Ida Teeter and Misty, and I understood where they were, misfits that they are, at the end of the story.  So I laughed and enjoyed it.  It’s very likely that you won’t.  But you really owe it to yourself to see a movie that has the world’s first strangely compelling cinematic love triangle between two lesbians and a big fricking spider.

Checkout our review of Episode One: Don Coscarelli's  Incident On and Off a Mountain Road

Checkout our review of Episode Two: Stuart Gordon's H.P. Lovecraft's Dreams in the Witch-House

Checkout our review of Episode Three: Tobe Hooper's Dance of the Dead

Checkout our review of Episode Four: Dario Argento's Jenifer

Checkout our review of Episode Five: Mick Garris's Chocolate

Checkout our review of Episode Six: Joe Dante's Homecoming

Checkout our review of Episode Seven: John Landis' Deer Woman

Checkout our review of Episode Eight: John Carpenter's Cigarette Burns

Checkout our review of Episode Nine: William Malone's Fair-Haried Child