On occasion, AHS has a tendency to get too lost in the twists and gore to produce a clear mission statement. That's not the case with Roanoke. The season is divided into three distinct chapters: the show within a show, My Roanoke Nightmare, the found footage from the doomed sequel, and Lee's big interview with Lana. Each one of those chapters paints an increasingly disturbing picture of America's obsession with fame and crime, and the way those obsessions converge in the way we eat up the grisly details of true-crime documentaries.
Because of its reality show framing device, Roanoke is just as eerily relevant now as it was when it premiered in 2016. When we look back on the season, it's important to remember that precious few of the characters died of supernatural causes. Instead, they die by each other's hands as truth and fiction twist together to poison their perceptions of one another, particularly in the cases of Shelby and Matt. By commoditizing their horror story and agreeing to return to a house they barely escaped from alive, Shelby, Matt, and even Lee doom themselves.
They're not the only ones that suffer because of My Roanoke Nightmare's popularity. The actors' desire to capitalize on the show's success leads them to ignore the signs that the horrors they reenacted were in fact real. Meanwhile, fans of the show also endanger themselves by seeking their own brush with fame by sneaking onto the property. Ultimately, the reality show spawns an endless cycle of voyeurism, greed, and violence that leads to everyone who comes near it dying in a grisly manner. But even as people's lives and careers are destroyed, America simply can't look away from the horrors unfolding on their screens — and if that realisation doesn't send a chill down your spine, then nothing will.