I was reading this wrap-up of the fifteen best episodes of TV shows from 2018 and I was thinking that I was going to throw a right fit if the sixth installment of The Haunting of Hill House wasn’t on there. But it was, and the writer — Liz Baessler — waxes most eloquently about that episode.

But it’s the sixth episode, “Two Storms,” that stands out not just for its storytelling abilities, but for its sheer technical achievement. After five episodes devoted to each of the five Crain children, this sixth sees them all together with their father possibly for the first time since the night they left Hill House, 25 years ago. The episode is a series of single, ultralong shots of meticulously choreographed movement performed by the entire Crain family on two very different stormy nights. It’s an unabashed flex of creative and technical ability, but it’s one that’s executed exquisitely, and rather than fighting against or defying the television format, it celebrates it, stirring together information parceled out over the past five episodes and holding itself to a single episode’s runtime. It expands the bounds of what tv can accomplish while reminding you, again and again, that it is tv. It’s beautifully done, and the way it draws out the Crains’ tension and grief, stretching it unbearably thin until it finally snaps with the first visible cut in 50 minutes, is incredible.

After watching that episode I was just like “fuuuck.” There are some works of art that, even if you like them or love them, you think, Yeah, I could do that. It’d be hard but that’s achievable if someone gave me the time and resources.

And then there’s art like “Two Storms” where you realize that, no, you could not do that with any amount of time, money or resources. It’s just not possible. What an amazing bit of TV and an exultant piece of art. I’d hold that episode against any other major achievement of the Western artistic tradition and argue that it doesn’t need me, for it in fact holds its own.

That’s one of the few TV episodes I have ever in my life watched, sat there for a few minutes stunned, then watched it again.

What’s so particularly marvelous about it is that if you aren’t a huge movie/TV nerd like I am, it’s all done so seamlessly that you won’t even notice it consciously. This was not the directors or writers showing off — all of the technical and artistic wizardry is done solely in service of the character arc instead of some demonstration of ability. It’s not for some sizzle reel. No, it’s to tell a better story. And that’s what makes it so wonderful.

What a great episode. What great art. There is magic in this universe and this is it, right here.