Swarm profoundly re-invents the serial killer anti-hero arc

Donald Glover’s new Amazon Prime Video series provides fresh commentary on fan culture and pathological murder alike

By the time season four of You was released, I made a pact with myself to never stream a serial-killer drama again. I promptly shelved this resolution upon watching Amazon Prime Video’s Swarm

Released on March 17, 2023, Swarm, was executive-produced by Donald Glover and written by playwright Janine Nabers with the help of former president Barack Obama’s daughter, Malia Ann Obama. The show spotlights twenty-something Andrea “Dre” (Dominique Fishback), a Black woman whose aspirations and actions are dictated by a devotion to her pop-star idol Ni’Jah. Dre is an ever-faithful member of the Hive, a group of superfans of the artist, who’s billed as a cultural icon not-so-loosely inspired by Beyoncé. Dre masks her social awkwardness with an unwavering affinity to Ni’Jah, bringing her into nearly every conversation in which she engages and shunning anyone who speaks ill of her. Though Dre’s foster sister Marissa (Chloe Bailey), with whom she is both financially and socially dependent, is also a Ni’Jah fan, she, unlike Dre, has a social life and a job to fall back on. When Marissa suddenly dies, Dre descends into a frenzy of violence, seeking out anyone on the internet and in real life who denounces Ni’Jah and bludgeoning them to death. Among her suspects is Eva (Billie Eilish), who runs a group for women detoxing from technology.

On its face, Swarm seems completely ridiculous and has all the ingredients for a surefire flop. It’s almost laughably meta in its obvious Beyoncé stand-in, and its social commentary on hype culture is amped to the highest ideological extreme, which could have distracted from its core message. However, Swarm soars due to its compelling parallels to the contemporary pop-cultural zeitgeist. Through Dre’s reverence of Ni’Jah, the show provides an indelible commentary on the diciness of celebrity worship.

In Swarm, the celebrity-fan dynamic proves to be the perfect avenue to explore the real-life implications of a pop culture so engrained in technology. Swarm seamlessly captures the social media echo chambers that both hype up and polarize their idols: Dre runs a fan account for Ni’Jah, racking up thousands of likes, comments, and followers for her not-sooriginal takes on Ni’Jah’s songs, outfits, and lifestyle. It also shows the dark side of these echo chambers: the people who fight against the hype, those who dare criticize Ni’Jah face the ultimate price and are “stung” by people like Dre, the Hive’s most carnivorous bees.

In tackling the toxicity of social media fanbases, Swarm also contributes to an ongoing conversation in pop culture around parasocial relationships, indicating that these associations are inherently grounded in false dreams rather than reality. Dre is certain that if she were to know Ni’Jah on a personal level, the two would be best friends. However, when she finally meets Ni’Jah after leading on a concert security officer and subsequently killing him, she suffers a break from reality and ends up biting Ni’Jah instead, ultimately resulting in being escorted out of the venue kicking and screaming. This scene was directly based on a real-life interaction between Beyoncé and a fan, lending sinister authenticity to the story arc.

In addition to being a show rife with socialcultural commentary, Swarm portrays a serial killer anti-hero narrative.

After watching all four seaons of You, I was ready to do away with the genre as a whole; however Swarm is so sophisticated that viewers may even forget its entire story arc is centered on a pathological serial killer. While characters likeYou's Joe Goldberg kill to advance their own interests, often in the twisted pursuit of what they deem to be love, Dre kills out of a shameless devotion to an artist who makes her feel valued and bears witness to her lived reality. She is also a Black woman, making her part of a group that has not previously been spotlit as the anti-hero in serial killer dramas.

Thankfully, Swarm is effective enough in its representation that Dre’s murderous pursuits do not link her to any angry-Black-woman trope. Instead, Dre’s humanity is centered. Her story is nuanced and her relationships are complex. As a foster child, Dre suffers from severe trauma and is prone to fits of anger. Her foster family was ill-equipped to handle her care, and thus they revoked their adoption. This level of complexity is rarely seen in other serial killer dramas, which I now realize is why I grew to detest the genre so viscerally.

Due to Swarm’s timely commentary on celebrity-fan dynamics and single-handed transformation of the serial-killer anti-hero narrative, it has cemented itself as one of my favorite recent streaming shows. While I will still hold myself accountable for not watching any more serial killer dramas, I will definitely tune in if Swarm gets renewed for a second season.