YAGA Review: A Dark, Unsettling Modern Fairy Tale Series

Something old whispers beneath the salt wind. YAGA, Kate Sandler’s latest television adaptation of her 2019 play, trades urban grit for coastal fog and dares the familiar to feel strange again.

Set in a small fishing town, the series begins with a disappearance—Henry Park, heir to a local fishing concern, vanishes without a trace. Enter Rap, a private investigator who arrives like a question mark. He meets Carson, the local cop, and Catherine, a university lecturer whose complicated personal life adds unpredictable layers to the case. What starts as a missing-person mystery soon threads through folklore, with clear nods to the Baba Yaga myth that stalks the story like a shadow.

Eight episodes run their course with a steady mood: eerie rather than outright terrifying, curious rather than predictable. Sandler keeps large parts of her dialogue intact from the stage text, which gives the show a theatrical rhythm—snappy exchanges, stilted silences, and sudden bursts of humor that feel handcrafted rather than mass-produced. The chemistry between the leads—especially the actors playing Rap and Carson—anchors the first episodes and sells the stranger tonal shifts that follow.

Critics have been generally favorable. Rotten Tomatoes shows five reviews and an 80% critics score. Metacritic, also tallying five critics, sits at 69 out of 100. Those numbers tell you this: YAGA is not a flatline hit, but it’s doing something interesting enough to merit attention.

What reviewers notice most is balance. Radio Times (80/100) praises the fresh details that keep even theatergoers guessing and applauds the sharp, witty dialogue and strong on-screen chemistry. The Pittsburgh Tribune-Review (72/100) calls the opening trio of episodes a successful blend of humor and supernatural hints. The Wall Street Journal (70/100) highlights the series’ ambiguously unnerving central figure—Baba Yaga herself—and notes the show’s persistent sense of mystery. Screen Rant (70/100) argues the adaptation becomes a satisfying hybrid of horror, offbeat comedy, and myth across its first seven episodes, making it a fine pick for a Halloween watchlist. The Hollywood Reporter (60/100) admires the show’s bold performances and seductive atmosphere but suggests it doesn’t fully deliver a wholly rewarding experience.

So where does YAGA sit in your queue? Think of it as a mood piece—less jump-scare horror, more an invitation to sit with discomfort. The supernatural elements are woven in like threads of an old tapestry: visible, intricate, and occasionally tangling the main plot. If you like your mysteries with texture—characters who argue, flirt, and bury secrets while an older, stranger logic creeps in—this will probably land for you.

There are moments when the show’s theatrical roots make it feel intentionally stylized; some viewers will find that invigorating, others distancing. But Sandler’s control over tone, and the cast’s willingness to follow her into weird territory, means YAGA rarely feels bored with itself. It wants to be sly. It wants to unsettle. It wants to be remembered.

Curious? Turn off the lights. Let the fog do the rest.