The first three episodes of Adilkhan Yerzhanov’s horror series are an unforgettable combo of Kazakh folklore and gritty crime drama
Like my fellow Cinapsian Dan Tabor, Adilkhan Yerzhanov’s Steppenwolf was my surprise favorite at Fantasia last year, and a wild introduction to Kazakh cinema at large. It was a sprawling, sinister epic that infused the heartless, apocalyptic wastelands of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road with the gallows humor and action bravado of peak George Miller. So I was beyond stoked when Fantasia’s second wave of announcements revealed Yerzhanov was returning — not just with a new project, but with the first three episodes of a ten-episode horror TV series. Even better (or eerier), the show had reportedly been pulled by its distributor before release for being too frightening in early focus group screenings. But my excitement wasn’t just about diving deeper into Yerzhanov’s work, or even Kazakh Scary Tales’ deliciously ominous backstory — it also came from the fact that I had absolutely no frame of reference for what a Kazakh horror series would even be like.
Set in the desolate rural steppes surrounding Yerzhanov’s recurring fictional town of Karatas, Kazakh Scary Tales follows Detective Birzhan (Kuantai Abdimadi), transferred with his family from the big city to his decaying country hometown, as he investigates a mysterious wave of mass miscarriages at the local hospital. In Karatas, corruption is as much a tradition as the shadowy creatures that lurk after dark–as deadly mysteries are quietly buried to avoid drawing the attention of bureaucratic overlords, criminal networks, or worse, supernatural forces.
But Birzhan, quickly nicknamed the “Meerkat,” isn’t one to let these cases go. Birzhan’s investigation into the miscarriages rapidly intersects with the mysterious disappearance of the head doctor’s daughter, launching him into a relentlessly curious, darkly sardonic pursuit of the truth–evoking the forthright optimism of Twin Peaks’ Dale Cooper as much as the gruesome, rotten occultism of any season of True Detective. As he pushes past Karatas’ fear and denial alongside hoodie-rocking town psychic Sara (Anna Starchenko), Birzhan begins to provoke the very forces—both spectral and human—that everyone else has learned to leave undisturbed.
Opening with meditative quotes on folklore and heroism from Kafka, Nietzsche, and Ai Weiwei, Kazakh Scary Tales complements its horrific backroads demons with Yerzhanov’s keen focus on the equally monstrous impulses of his characters. Fans of Steppenwolf or Yerzhanov’s other work will find welcome company among Karatas’ seedy denizens. Kazakh Scary Tales is just as bleak and darkly hilarious, provoking viewers with gruesome mysteries and gut-busting black humor. Sequences steeped in practical effects and sinisterly inventive camera placements aren’t for the faint of stomach. But across these first three episodes, Yerzhanov shows a deft command of tone, leavening the dread with much-needed bursts of comedy — whether through characters’ deadpan skepticism, blunt reflections on rural corruption, or Birzhan’s barb-laden bromance with Karatas’ resident coroner.
It also helps that Abdimadi’s Birzhan feels like a natural evolution of the occult detective archetype, a Kazakh twist on figures like Twin Peaks’ Dale Cooper or The X-Files’ Fox Mulder. Like them, Birzhan is principled and unflinching among Karatas’ rougher company, but he’s far more weathered: less whimsical than Cooper, less paranoid than Mulder, and more willing to test the boundaries of both human and arcane law if it brings him closer to the truth. Yet, unlike many around him, he seemingly refuses to fall sway to the ambient corruption that permeates Karatas. Haunted by past tragedies — cases gone wrong precisely because of his dedication to justice — Birzhan remains committed to the belief that something good can be salvaged from the rot. Even in a world stalked by ancient demons, he believes our better angels still have work to do in the dark.
Equally compelling is Starchenko’s Sara, a delightfully gothic street psychic who takes a low-key approach to helping out her fellow villagers. She’s the go-to for Karatas’ cops and criminals alike for supernatural aid, casting spells without casting judgment. Starchenko also surprises with her physical performance — particularly in scenes of visceral, body-wrenching possession that showcase her raw, kinetic intensity.
These three episodes are rich in atmosphere, establishing Karatas as a convincingly lived-in setting while slowly deepening the eerie, elusive folklore that stirs after nightfall. Like Twin Peaks, there’s a roadhouse that blasts infectious Kazakh bops, and there’s no shortage of seedy drama between the hard-bitten villagers and some truly silly-ass cops. But the real standout of Kazakh Scary Tales is just how bizarre yet grounded its supernatural elements feel. Outfitting the pale white spirits of something like Ju-on: the Grudge with traditional steppe garb, the spirits of Kazakh Scary Tales are wonderfully impish and mischievous. These ghosts aren’t exactly the cause of Scary Tales’ bloodshed, but they’re more than happy to linger at its edges, flitting through Yerzhanov’s frames with silent glee. Their modestly malevolent energy gives the show a constant hum of dread, growing more chilling the more they seem to enjoy the chaos. One demon, Albasty, morphs between human and monstrous form, adding some gnarly practical creature FX to the more subdued scares. There’s no shortage of specters or shapeshifters to help Kazakh Scary Tales live up to its title–and one of its greatest strengths is how immersive and gripping its vision of Kazakh folklore becomes when fused with Yerzhanov’s grounded, grimy crime storytelling.
With how enjoyably wicked these first three episodes of Kazakh Scary Tales are, I can only hope the twisted charm and folkloric intrigue of Yerzhanov’s full ten-episode season eventually sees the light of day. This is a uniquely compelling exploration of a folklore rarely given international spotlight, and Yerzhanov doesn’t just approach it with stylish flair: he makes it broadly accessible and emotionally resonant. Whether you’re drawn to dread-soaked demons, deadpan detective drama, or the surreal, dust-choked vibes of the steppe, Kazakh Scary Tales offers a haunting ride well worth following to the bitter end.
The first three episodes of Kazakh Scary Tales had their world premiere at the 2025 Fantasia International Film Festival. The show is currently seeking international distribution.
