Yaga gives Baba Yaga a voice, and that's its best trick

Why do we keep telling stories about the wicked old witch and never ask what she thinks of us? That is, more or less, the complaint the title character of Yaga makes herself, and it may be the smartest thing about the show.

The facts first, briefly. Yaga is a Canadian supernatural horror mystery created by Kat Sandler from her own 2019 play, and according to Wikipedia) it premiered on October 23, 2026 on Crave, with AMC+ carrying it in the United States. It runs eight half-hour episodes. Carrie-Anne Moss plays Katherine, a university professor, and Hudson Williams plays the missing heir Henry Park, with Noah Reid and Clark Backo as the investigators.

The witch finally gets the mic

Baba Yaga has always had a branding problem: the hut on chicken legs and a reputation that does the talking for her. Sandler's pitch, as her collaborator Mackenzie Donaldson put it, is a "crazy fairy tale dressed up like a detective series." We think that disguise is the right call. A missing-person plot gives modern viewers a familiar door into the folklore, and the folklore gives a routine procedural some teeth.

The most interesting choice, though, is the voice. The Hollywood Reporter notes that Yaga herself opens and closes each chapter with raspy voiceover, lamenting that no one will stay and get to know her, and adding, "I'm very funny, you know." That is the thesis in miniature. A witch who is allowed to be funny, bitter and self-aware stops being a monster of the week and becomes a character. If the series keeps that perspective at its center, it has a real answer to the cliché.

Moss is the draw, Williams is the hook

Let's be honest about the marketing. Williams arrives fresh from Heated Rivalry, and Wikipedia reports that print copies of the original play sold out after his casting was announced. That is a fandom pipeline, and there is nothing wrong with it. Playing two roles, the cocky Henry and his withdrawn roommate Logan, is a nice showcase.

But the same review argues the real star turn belongs to Moss, who turns her character's maturity, the very quality that should make her invisible, into a source of sexual power. We find that the more exciting idea. A genre that too often treats older women as either invisible or dangerous gets to make them both at once, and we think that echoes what the Baba Yaga myth has always been about.

Where the spell wobbles

Here the evidence turns cautious. The Hollywood Reporter calls the show enjoyable enough to binge but "not quite sharp enough to treasure," and says it is better at suggesting hidden depths than excavating them. It also says the characters Williams plays get less screen time, and thus less depth, than one might hope, and that Reid's womanizing is overplayed. That review is based on seven of the eight episodes, so the finale could change the picture.

The numbers are friendlier, though thin: Wikipedia lists 90% positive on Rotten Tomatoes from 10 reviews and a Metacritic score of 69 from 5. The page is undated, so those figures may be a snapshot, and it is a small sample either way. We would not treat it as a verdict.

Our reading is that the problem is a familiar one: themes of wealth, male entitlement and female rage are present, but the review says that path is already well-trod by other shows. Folklore is not a shortcut to depth. The myth is the seasoning, not the meal.

Our verdict

Watch it, especially if you like your horror mischievous rather than grim. The half-hour format makes it a low-risk weekend binge, and Moss alone justifies the first episodes. But don't expect a definitive reinvention of Baba Yaga. What it offers is something more modest and still welcome: a witch who talks back. If the later episodes trust her voice as much as the premise does, Yaga could be the rare fairy-tale update that earns its reframing. If not, it will be a stylish, chilly mystery that only points at the idea.