The Fall of the House of Usher’s Most Harrowing Death Is Its Least Brutal
In Mike Flanagan's last Netflix series, it was never really about justice
Photo Courtesy of Netflix
“What do you want?” Rodrick Usher (Bruce Greenwood) asks C. Auguste Dupin (Carl Lumbly) in The Fall of the House of Usher’s final episode. “Justice,” is his short answer. “And what does that look like?” Rodrick volleys back, to which Dupin follows with an assertive: “I’ll know it when I see it.”
In the aftermath of acid rain, animal attacks, falls from thousands of feet, stab wounds to the heart and various other vital organs through thousands of glass shards, and a bisection followed by a crushing blow from a massive, collapsing building, it’s difficult to imagine that we haven’t already seen that justice play out. After all, even if Rodrick Usher was still standing at the moment, his kids have all already passed in increasingly violent and brutal fashion, each paying off a tiny fraction of their father and aunt’s tab one at a time. But that was the deal, wasn’t it? The mysterious Verna (Carla Gugino), seemingly Death herself, made it perfectly clear: the Ushers would be untouchable in life, but would go together in death.
The Fall of the House of Usher catalogs poetic justice, quite literally, through its adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe’s most famous tales, sending its titular Ushers through elaborate, Saw-like deaths in order to pay for their most egregious sins: simply being Ushers—oh, and all their own misdeeds as well.
In the beginning, you could argue that Prospero (Sauriyan Sapkota) didn’t deserve it, not really—he was just a kid, too starved for affection but too gorged on money and access to have a caring bone in his body. Camille (Kate Siegel), while admittedly a terrible person and an even worse boss, was tame enough, driven by a profound hatred for her sister fostered by their father’s penchant for pitting his children against each other. Even Napoleon (Rahul Kohli), while a horrible person and partner, still wasn’t as bad as his older siblings. As we move further into the mutilation and atrocities committed by the eldest Ushers, it’s so easy to get lost in the revelry of the kills—there is joy in the bloodshed. They deserve this, you say over your popcorn as Victorine (T’Nia Miller) stabs herself in the heart after mutilating her girlfriend, as Tamerlane (Samantha Sloyan) smashes all the mirrors in her home, as Fredrick (Henry Thomas) gets slashed in half then crushed by rubble. The delight that comes from those kills reveals as much about the seemingly eternal Verna as it does those watching it happen; it’s fun to watch people face their comeuppance. But, as the series comes to a close, Lenore’s (Kyliegh Curran) death is a sobering halt to that revelry, and acts as a stark reminder that good people will always get caught in the crossfire. And that, in the end, it wasn’t really about punishing any of these people for their misdeeds anyway; like most callus acts in this world, it was all just a transaction.
Despite Verna telling Lenore that her death would be the most difficult to enact, she still did it; she still made her pay a toll that wasn’t hers to pay. Instead of having thousands upon thousands of deaths on her hands like her grandfather, Lenore’s actions caused a chain reaction that saved thousands and improved millions of lives. And yet, it still wasn’t enough to write her off, just this once. Though it did earn her something the other Ushers were offered but that each passed on: a quick, painless death. At the Rue Morgue, Verna repeatedly tells Camille to leave and that she shouldn’t be there, but driven by the sheer hatred she holds for her sister, Camille stays to collect that evidence. Verna tells her that her death could have been quiet and peaceful, she could have just died in her sleep; similarly, she tells Fredrick that his newfound cocaine habit would have made a heart attack so easy, but as soon as he pulled out a pair of pliers to harm his wife, she had to take more drastic measures. She gives them each every opportunity to do the right thing, but the only Usher granted that peaceful demise was Lenore. But still, no matter how good and kind Lenore was, unfortunately, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway—she was Rodrick Usher’s one true punishment.