Gory and scary North Carolina-shot series premieres May 31 on DC Universe's streaming service

DC Universe’s “Swamp Thing” is best watched curled up in a ball in the center of the couch so the mutant vines can’t snag your ankles.

When I was a kid, seeing Alan Parish’s house overtaken by man-eating rainforest vines in “Jumanji” fueled more than a few of my nightmares, a trauma I thought I had shaken until this new series introduced its instrument of evil — an overzealous species of swamp vines hellbent on murdering, maiming and keeping me up at night.

“Swamp Thing” is just the latest ripped-from-the-comics series to hit the DC Universe streaming service, but it’s the first to skew toward the horror genre – and it doesn’t just dip a toe in it. It throws its whole body in headfirst.

Strikingly scary and, at times, flat-out disgusting, the show stands out among comic book TV adaptations that usually aim for a middle-of-the-road audience. The CW’s Arrowverse (“Arrow,” “The Flash,” “Supergirl”) employs dark elements, but it is ultimately rooted in the power of the light.

That’s not the case with “Swamp Thing,” which leans heavily into the darkness, and doesn’t shy away from the gore, foul language and tragedy of life in its tale of nature gone rogue.

The show follows scientist Abby Arcane (Crystal Reed), a rising star in the CDC dispatched back to the hometown she put in her rearview mirror when a swamp-borne virus starts infecting citizens. The sweaty, mosquito-ridden backwater town of Marais, Louisiana is not a forgiving place. It’s economically built on the back of the swamp and business isn’t exactly booming.

Deadly virus aside, Abby’s homecoming is anything but welcoming thanks to a deep-seeded history with the town’s unofficial king and queen, Avery (Will Patton) and Maria Sunderland (Viriginia Madsen), her once-surrogate parents who cut ties with Abby after their daughter’s tragic death – a fateful day that still haunts them all.

But she finds a new ally in Alec Holland (Andy Bean), an ambitious, not to mention charming, biologist hired by Avery to do tests on the swamp’s health, only to uncover a sinister agent in the water that may be behind the virus.

It’s that deadly cocktail of moss and mutation that births the Swamp Thing, an elemental hero out to protect the planet against those who seek to harm it for profit – something all of Marais is fighting to get a piece of.

But let’s get back to these nightmarish vines. Without its title character and no discernible flesh-and-blood villain to spar with in episode one, “Swamp Thing’s” first act is tasked with tapping an infectious curiosity for what might be lurking in the deep — and the vines aren’t shy.

Essentially its an origin story, something audiences are more familiar with than ever in this saturated age of superheroes. On the heels of “Avengers” and “Justice League,” we’re well past needing to be told the rules of making a hero in order to enjoy the payoff. So retreading those familiar beats makes the pilot feel like a waiting game. (DC Universe’s own “Titans” sidestepped this by starting its story after Robin’s reign in Gotham.)

Luckily, the wait is worth it. The arrival of the Swamp Thing, and the stunning practical suit worn by Derek Mears, is a sight to behold – one breathed life into by Brian Tyler’s menacing score.

Guiding the audience to that grand entrance, director Len Wiseman delivers a beautifully shot pilot, setting a malevolent tone that’s the heartbeat of the show and never lets up – even when the danger is more human than supernatural.

The show shot several scenes on Greenfield Lake in Wilmington and every ounce of the lake’s innate beauty lives on the screen. Wiseman and the crew’s eye for the duality of a swamp, the unsettling and yet intoxicating aura, is palpable.

Reed anchors much of the pilot as the show fills out its sprawling supporting cast. Abby is a headstrong doctor whose best medicine in the face of terrifying diseases (besides actual drugs) is compassion. But in Marais, she finds her own wounds pried open when confronted by the Sunderlands’ lingering hate toward her. Madsen, in particular, chows on all the scenery she’s given and asks for more.

Bean brings an accessible charisma to Alec, whose fascination with the swamp’s peculiar properties puts him squarely in the middle of its dangers. At his core, he’s a funny nerd who gets giddy about science and has a dog – what’s not to love?

With the show’s mood ring as murky as its swamp, Alec’s buoyant energy adds a levity that lightens the load – and is sorely missed when he’s not around.

Talking about “Swamp Thing’s” early episodes doesn’t feel fair to the potential it develops, mainly because whether or not this show will sink or swim rests on the broad shoulders of its creature and, for now, he’s just getting his sea legs.

But in its initial form, the series is a messy, sweaty and genuinely scary romp in the swamp that embraces nature’s dark side – murderous vines and all.

Reporter Hunter Ingram can be reached at Hunter.Ingram@StarNewsOnline.com. Hunter is a member of the Television Critics Association.