Skip to content 
When the name Baba Yaga is first thrown out in Kat Sandler’s series, “Yaga,” the response is what you’d expect from a thirty-two-year-old guy in the year 2026: “Wait, the guy from ‘John Wick’?” The answer doubles as recognition and explanation for a title that, on its own, feels strangely incomplete: “Oh, okay: they couldn’t call it ‘Baba Yaga’ because then everyone would think it’s a ‘John Wick’ show. So it was called ‘Yaga’. Because it’s about witches.”
But “Yaga” is also strangely incomplete in execution, mainly because it’s not nearly strange enough. Adapted from Sandler’s play of the same name, the eight-episode series retells the legend of Baba Yaga as a detective-driven mystery – not the legend of Keanu Reeves’s improbable murder, but the historical one from Slavic folklore about a witch who, depending on the narrator, is either a nice, friendly, old woman, or a monster abduction
Sandler’s story teases the two possible explanations, presenting his witch characters as suspicious and helpful at the same time to ensure that either explanation remains plausible for as long as possible: They are there to prey on the townspeople, or they are there to help our investigators crack the case. Or, perhaps, it’s a bit of both.
But “Yaga” never reaches its potential as a horror show or a mystery (and I can’t say if its feminist underpinnings pay off either, since only seven of the eight episodes were available for review). It is not scary enough to qualify for the first one or to bea witchenough to sustain the latter. Instead, it follows the tropes of a traditional, less exciting crime drama while stretching out a whodunit that spends far too long accepting the answer. won’t be including will and double trouble, double, burning fire bubbles and cauldron. As much fun as it is to watch Carrie-Anne Moss toy with various fuckboys, it would be nice to know why she’s doing it much, much faster (if at all).
Things unravel with the disappearance of Henry Park (played by “Heated Rivalry’s” Hudson Williams in another Crave production). Henry is the heir to his family’s fishing empire, but he’s better known around their small, coastal town as a brother who throws big parties. He lives in a large mansion with one roommate (1): a friend named Logan who, despite not being related to him, looks exactly like Henry. Both roles are played by Williams, and while neither takes up that much screen time, the actor does a good job of distinguishing the titular playboy from his quiet sidekick.
Our leads are, of course, our investigators: Carson (Clark Backo), an off-the-books police officer in the Whittock police department whose personal life is not very well developed, and Rapp (Noah Reid), a private investigator flown in (literally) by the Park family who inhales too much oxygen. When Rapp is dropped off at Henry’s house by helicopterCarson takes one look at his outfit and smiles: black tie, black leather jacket, brown leather duffel bag. He’s not dressed for the wet Canadian countryside, but another cop says exactly what Rapp hopes he’ll say: “I think he looks pretty cool.”
Rapp’s first comment is right on the nose: It’s impossible to be full of himself. Cocksure and brazen, Rapp is paired with Carson by the local boss, but he doesn’t work well with others. He runs his own theories as he searches for Henry (which conveniently involves lots of drug-fueled parties and women who suit his charms) and pursues whatever he feels (or if he feels that way, in case he moves on to another suitable woman). If that means a small illegal search and seizure, so be it. If it means sleeping with a suspect (or two, or three), well that’s just a perk of the job.
Rap comes off as such as clichéd bad boy you can’t wait for Carson to pop his inflated ego, and “Yaga” admits that desire almost as quickly as it proves its need. When Rapp climbs out of the helicopter to introduce himself, settling his hair back into place after the whistling blades of his slick, faux-casual style have been removed, he slips and eats dirt. Great! Get it, “Yaga!” This guy sucks, and he could only be coded as more of a douchebag if he was hacking crypto on the side and smoking cigarettes for health benefits.
But then… he just… sticks around? Unexamined and motivated for reasons still unknown? Rapp’s schtick goes on so long, working his “magic” on so many Whittock women, I find myself asking, “Is Noah Reid Canada’s version of Ryan Gosling?” No, of course not! Ryan Gosling is Canada’s version of Ryan Gosling! Furthermore, if anyone in the “Yaga” cast should be treated as the most unpredictable man in the northern part of North America, it is Hudson Williams. After “Heated Rivalry,” no one would think twice about that boy going to bed with anyone he wants, even if he also has the worst match in town.
“Yaga” offers some delicious sympathy in the form of seductive, empowered suspects like Katherine (Carrie-Anne Moss), a professor who loves bones so much she wrote a book called – I’m not kidding – “Sexy Bones.” And there are several sexual scenes here and there, although they are usually swallowed by an ominous statement from a witch who has not yet been seen, disturbing hallucinations, or Rapp’s involvement.
“Yaga” feels like it’s building to a welcome place — about society’s centuries-old persecution and mistrust of women, about the appropriate response to oppression, about bad men with good hair — but the subtext isn’t enough to sustain eight episodes, even when they clock in at about 30 minutes each. It doesn’t help that our de facto protagonist, Carson, is a blank slate. If she was able or willing to balance Rapp’s poisonous energy, perhaps “Yaga” could cast a sure spell. As it is, it is a lot of incantations without the magic to come.
Grade: C
“Yaga” premieres Friday, October 23 on AMC+ with two episodes. New episodes will be released each week through the two-episode finale on Friday, November 27.
