[Editor's note: The following contains spoilers for Escape the Undertaker.]
Netflix has been toying with "interactive" original films and series for a few years now, these sort of choose-your-own-adventure style narratives that ask the readers to gently guide the storyline along by occasionally picking one of two options. The latest, Escape the Undertaker, is an extremely silly, mildly spooky haunted house adventure that serves as a perfect Halloween time distraction for anyone with kids into horror and/or professional wrestling, provided you choose to follow the prompts that direct WWE stars Kofi Kingston, Xavier Woods, and Big E through the house of the titular undead mortician. Conversely, Escape the Undertaker is the funniest thing Netflix has ever produced in the entirety of its 24-year history as long as you immediately choose "I am too scared" and leave the interactive special after two minutes.
Please let me explain. The interactive special opens on The Undertaker, who, for anyone unaware, is canonically a zombie wizard from the wastelands of Death Valley who has been to and returned from literal hell several times but still chooses to compete in pro wrestling matches for championship belts. His brother is a demon with a history of lighting people on fire who you must also accept listens whenever a human referee tells him the rules. Pro wrestling is extremely good. In the Netflix special, we find The Undertaker—portrayed, as he has been for three decades, by Mark Calaway—wearing a floor-length leather jacket and MMA gloves in the comfort of his own home, welding together a set of mystical keys and dramatically intoning about the "dark arts" and "unnatural forces" he's experienced during his 30 years as a living embodiment of evil / professional athlete sponsored by Skittles. More specifically, he's talking about the magical urn that gives him his powers.
"The urn has an endless need to consume souls," The Undertaker says. "Anyone foolish enough to attempt to wield its powers must prove themselves worthy of handling it. So, ask yourself, are you brave enough to wield my urn?"
As mentioned, you then get the option of choosing "I am too scared," and I simply cannot recommend doing this enough. After two minutes, the special just ends and launches you into the credits, in which every single position possible on a film set is attributed to "The Undertaker." There are no words to describe how funny that is. Please, I implore you, ponder the implications of this extremely funny two-minute joke. Imagine The Undertaker, assumedly still wearing the costume of an extra in Underworld, setting up a fun little short film shoot in his basement. Imagine The Undertaker sitting down with Adobe Premiere Pro and getting frustrated when he can't get the white balance exactly right. I think the best gag in the credits is "Music By: The Undertaker," because it allows me to picture iconic supernatural pro wrestling figure The Undertaker diligently syncing ominous cello hits to his monologue.
But then, then you gotta' also imagine someone scrolling through Netflix, landing on Escape the Undertaker, firing up this horror movie that an immortal Satanic professional wrestler painstakingly wrote, shot, edited, and scored by himself, hearing that same pro wrestler ask "are you brave enough to wield my urn??" and then immediately saying "no this is too scary" and turning it off. Just absolutely devastatingly funny.
To be clear, Escape the Undertaker is a pretty dang fun time if you choose to move past the first option, mostly because Kofi Kingston, Xavier Woods, and Big E are the most earnestly delightful performers working today. But, to be even clearer, as a flawless, no-notes joke that lasts just around 120 seconds, Escape the Undertaker is the funniest thing Netflix has ever done. Rest in peace to my guts, I cannot stop laughing at the phrase "Associate Producer: The Undertaker."