Julio Torres’ ‘Fantasmas’ Will Shock and Delight You

While I’d never root for a movie to be delayed, especially not because of a labor strike, I think it may have been divine intervention in the case of Julio Torres’ fantastic directorial debut Problemista. The film was originally scheduled for a theatrical release last August, but was delayed until March of this year due to the SAG-AFTRA and WGA strikes. That postponement might’ve meant that people had to wait to be welcomed into Torres’ world of just-left-of-reality oddities, but it also means that the film will be fresh in their minds when watching his bold new series Fantasmas, which begins airing June 7 on HBO and streams on Max.

Fantasmas finds Torres once again boring into the minutiae of mundane, everyday activities and objects, this time to create a version of New York City where nothing is ever quite as it seems. (Honestly? Kind of exactly like the real NYC, only with more hazy clouds of green mist.) While the writer and comedian has brought his microscopic evaluations to other TV shows, past comedy specials, and Saturday Night Live sketches, he’s never quite had the right platform to go full-tilt gaga. Movies are a bigger financial risk than television, where you can appeal to the hidden peculiarities of viewers within the safety of their own homes.

And appeal he does. Something is just a little bit off about Fantasmas from the start, until what appears to be a one-off comedic aside about an old, Alf-like sitcom keeps going and going, making it apparent what this series really is. Torres’ show is a collection of brilliantly made, narratively cohesive vignettes where no detail is too small to perfect. Surprise guest stars pop up everywhere, game to be as nutty as Torres wants them to be—even the way Tilda Swinton cameos will shock and delight you, and she’s Tilda Swinton! For fans of art-forward comedy, who deride the unremarkableness of daily life but are fatigued by the overdone, self-deprecating humor of traditional series, Torres’ latest project is a gift. Fantasmas is special because it feels both fresh and familiar, making it one the very best new shows of the year.

Torres plays a version of himself in the series, and the trouble begins for this Julio from the very start. His dreams are plagued by visions of having to prove his identity by getting a government ID, one of the two running jokes that coil through each episode of Fantasmas. (The other is the search for a diamond-encrusted earring shaped like an oyster, which Julio believes will give him the clarity in life that he’s seeking.) Julio’s detest of government protocol makes its way over to this show from Problemista, which saw Torres rallying against the immigration system in ways that were similarly abstract, but still palatable for the average moviegoer. Fantasmas is a bit different. If you’re put off by its peculiarity, that’s by design. All you’re asked to do is lean into it, in the same way that Torres does writing and directing each of the first season’s six episodes.

That aforementioned Alf aside occurs just four minutes into the series premiere, when Julio meets one of Fantasmas’ hysterical recurring characters, a rideshare driver named Chester (Tomas Matos). Chester insists that Julio not touch the TV on the back of the seat, it must be playing Melf at all times. Suddenly, we’re thrust into an episode of Melf, which initially appears to be the ideal family sitcom (with Paul Dano in a typically bizarre role), until a shocking narrative turn takes the plot awry. Spoiling where the vignette goes would be to spoil the jaw-dropping fun, but just know that once you think it has gone as far as it will go, the scene goes even further. Not in any way that is violent, sexual, or grotesque, but in a way that is uniquely of Torres’ mind.

Watching Fantasmas often feels like hanging out with your friends and taking too large of an edible, sending you and your besties down a wormhole of THC-induced tangents. At times, you can’t believe what you’re seeing simply because episodes feel like such a treat to indulge in, like someone is scratching that part of your brain that craves creative release. The mind-melting depths that Torres can go to are nothing short of brilliant, but it’s the writer-director’s ease of getting to those places that is really impressive. Every episode, with its faultless details and spirited pacing, seems to flow so naturally from Torres’ mind. None of this seems manufactured or hamfisted, even though Fantasmas is entirely the product of someone who sees the world in a way that many of us can’t until we’re shown how.

What’s even more marvelous is that Torres is building his own creative world, where the connections between his different projects make them feel even more rich and lively. An adorable little robot assistant named Bibo (Joe Rumrill) migrates to this show from the end of Problemista, in an updated model that is just as inefficient here as it was in the film. And then there’s Torres’ love of casting his friends and close creative collaborators, like the pitch-perfect Martine Gutierrez, who had a laugh-out-loud bit part as a snooty gallerist in Problemista. In Fantasmas, Gutierrez plays Julio’s softly-spoken pin-up girl agent, who is actually a performance artist who played the part of an agent so long that she forgot she was acting. It’s those kinds of little particulars that make this show such a joy to watch as the rewards of this character writing are reaped as the series goes on.

There are too many guest appearances to count in Fantasmas, and none of them are as you might imagine. Aidy Bryant plays a woman who sells designer dresses for a certain household item; John Early voices a rodent; Kate Berlant pops up at a theme park run by an e-commerce brand; Evan Mock does what he does best and looks pretty on camera. There is someone and something here for everyone, but to give away anything too precise would rob you of all of the fun and laughter that Fantasmas has in store for you.

Amongst all the surprises, Torres weaves in biting commentary on things like immigration, healthcare, television executives who only care about money, and corporate banking. There’s a real sharpness here, despite the series being filmed with a gorgeous, hazy grain. The show is about as fantastical as Torres’ comedy has gotten, and yet, it’s still completely approachable. It takes a hefty bout of confidence for a writer to craft something so uncompromising and strange, and that courage is contagious. If Julio Torres can produce some of his most compelling work by looking around to make the abnormal normal and vice versa, nothing is stopping any of us from peering at the world with the same ectoplasm-green lenses.