Why do we watch horror films? Well, I certainly don’t! I’m way too scared, thank you very much. But why other Do you enjoy them? I would guess brain damage, but scientists say it is the experience of real fear in a safe environment. To put it even more grandiosely, it is a way of dealing with our own mortality.

The horror genre is alive and well, but I reckon true crime is the new horror of our generation. Everywhere you look, today’s audience is grappling with their mortality through books, documentaries, podcasts, films, or television shows.

And it is this last area, television, in which I was embedded when I helped shape it The sticky one (along with Brian Donovan). Inspired by the true crime called “The Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist,” where scofflaws from the Great White North made off with nearly $20 million CAD worth of the sweet stuff.

Of course, that real Crime was slow, methodical and, let’s face it, kind of boring. The crooks were eventually caught (at least some of them) and then served prison sentences (even fewer of them). Her story could have been told in countless ways, and if the current television market had anything to say about it, the best way to tell a true crime is to be as dark, haunting, and gory as possible. Hey, no bad ideas when brainstorming! But for someone who feels like there’s already enough horror in the real world, we wanted to take a different route. What if this true crime was heartbreaking, desperate, and despite everything, still kind of damn funny?

The real story wasn’t funny at all, but when I allowed myself to deviate from the facts, all of these unexpected qualities came to the fore. I’ve always enjoyed telling stories about underdogs. Stories of people who fight against all odds with their backs against the wall. Probably because I was a small child and had my back against many of the most beautiful walls that primary and secondary schools had to offer. (Note: Avoid concrete and rest your back on a nice soft wood: aspen or white pine, if available).

So we started there. Who would be so desperate that stealing maple syrup was not just a good solution, but the only solution? By ignoring the actual crime and focusing on the fictional characters, the answer became immediately clear. It was equally important not to let all three leads be driven by the same desire. Not only would it be repetitive, it wouldn’t be fun. In fact, the series’ greatest appeal is watching three completely different characters, with three completely different intentions, strive for the same prize for three completely different reasons.

With this foundation, it was possible to deal with the serious and heartbreaking moments without overdoing it and drowning in it. By delving into the seriousness and reality of each protagonist’s psyche, it is possible to find the funny while committing the “true crime.” Because our characters are not just parts that can be moved to commit the crime in question. They are driven by their own insecurities and limitations. And they can’t help but get in their own way.

Brian and I set the tone of the series as if he and I were forced to steal 500 cows. We could do it! At least part of it! I mean, we wouldn’t bring all 500 home alive – a lot of Holsteins would break free or die. But if our lives depended on it, we could do the job. Somehow. And even though we would end up covered in crap, we wouldn’t laugh about it at all. We would be horrified and shaking with trauma endorphins. But if anyone else watched us try to capture those heifers, they would laugh until the cows came home (or died in traffic).

Of course it helps to have fantastic actors behind the characters. Margo Martindale is a national treasure and can make drama and comedy equally great. Chris Diamantopoulos had exactly the hungry energy we didn’t even know we needed to bring his low-level Boston gangster to life. And Guillaume Cyr has the vulnerability to be likeable no matter what he’s doing on screen. What’s more, all three actors knew instinctively that they weren’t there to make jokes. We’ve talked about this a lot: none of her characters find her funny at all. Like any good burp or fart (comedy classic!), the humor comes in the quietest parts.

So be horrified, Jamie Lee Curtis (who is also an executive producer and has a small role in the series)! Mind your own mortality, audience! But for my money (CAD), I want to see a truly desperate gang commit a completely absurd crime in a way that finds some sweetness in this oh-so-sour world.

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Ed Herro is co-creator of Amazon The sticky onenow on stream on Prime Video.