Horror Heights – “Fall” (2022)

SPOILERS BELOW! Don’t read if you don’t want to know.

What’s the Horror: Two climbers get stuck on top of a 2,000 ft. tower

Does the Dog Die? There’s the death of one extremely mean bird

Gore Factor: Maybe a 2? Aside from the bird, there’s really no gore in this one

Character Quality: Weak. Borderline annoying. But there are enough thrills for me to overlook it.

Re-Watch Scale: I re-watch this one a lot. It’s an easy watch, and those heights never cease to freak me right the hell out.

I kept the review title because it pretty much sums up my feelings about this movie

Indeed, as a movie, Fall should not work. I think for many people it does not. But given how long I have been watching horror movies, the big thrill I get out of this one is that it actually terrifies me. I’ve watched it many times now, and every time I cringe, wince, and hide my eyes – the tall shots never cease to freak me out, and that’s a lot of fun and one of the reasons I love horror. It’s great to find a movie that will get to me repeatedly, even if it is wildly uneven, ridiculously stupid, and completely implausible. Hey, I’m a horror fan. I’m used to these characteristics.

SPOILERS BELOW! DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW!!

As previously mentioned, Fall is about two female climbers who climb a 2,000-ft tower on a lark and then get stuck up there. If you’re wondering how a movie could sustain this premise for an hour and forty-five minutes, well, it’s clear the writers already thought of that. Unfortunately, they toss in some silly side stories to try and pad out the length, and those things hold the movie back from being awesome. Stephen King said he wished he’d thought of the premise and written a book before anyone else came up with the idea, and I totally agree. If anyone could have made this premise work over a series of days, he could have. But he didn’t. Oh well.

Hey looka me! I’m an idiot!

Our main character is Becky, and we first see her as she and her husband Dan, along with her best friend Hunter, are scaling the side of a huge cliff. Now look, I know nothing about rock climbing. I am lucky to climb a flight of stairs without toppling over. But my first impression was that these people did not look like experienced climbers. First of all, with the exception of Hunter, they seem terrified to be as high up as they are, and Becky in particular comes across as very unsure of herself.

Nnnnnope.

Dan doesn’t appear to be much better, because when he slips and takes a swift plummet down until his rope (or whatever they call it) breaks his fall, he is instantly panicked beyond belief. I have to assume that this sort of thing is always a possibility when one is climbing a freaking cliff that never intended to be climbed, so I would imagine there is a proper way to rectify a situation such as this. Isn’t that why they are all attached to each other and there are ropes and clips and pulleys and shit everywhere? Again, I know absolutely nothing about that of which I speak, but his immediate freak out (complete with “high danger” music in the background) makes me wonder just why either he or Becky started doing this stuff in the first place. They both come across as nervous as hell and overly reactive to every little thing that happens – you know, more like EXACTLY like I would be if I tried this shit. And it must also be said that the shots of Dan dangling from his rope, spinning and struggling and squealing, involve what turns out to be the worst green screen of the movie. He just looked so incredibly fake here, and it worried me about how good the rest of the movie would look. But the rest of it is fine,, so I’ve no idea why this scene didn’t look better.

That first one’s a doozy, Dan

Cut to Becky a year later, sitting in a bar by herself, getting drunk, and listening to Dan’s voicemail message over and over. She staggers out of a bar that looks very “1970’s New York City”, and oops – there’s her dad waiting next to her car. He’s worried about her and tells her she needs to stop glorifying her dead husband and get on with her life, which is – a weird thing to say. I get the whole get on with your life part, but telling someone who recently lost their spouse to stop idolizing them in their mind is pretty bold, and as Becky points out, not particularly useful.

I have to say that the actress playing Becky doesn’t have the gravitas to nail this scene. She just looks so very young, and while even very young women lose spouses, I don’t feel like they take to frequenting seedy bars that are clearly watering holes for professional, pathetic, seasoned alcoholics. The whole scene comes across as cliche as a result.

Nooobody knooooows the trouble I’ve seeeeeen…

Cut to Becky in her apartment, with Dan’s ashes still in a USPS box on a table. At least, we assume it’s his ashes. If not, then damn, there really wasn’t much left of him after he landed. Becky tries to call Dan’s voicemail again, but oh my – it’s been shut down. Becky loses it and starts scrambling through her cabinets, looking for what we can assume is enough medication to end her life. Fortunately her cell phone rings – her ringtone is “Cherry Pie” by Warrant, which is done heavily-handed enough for us to get that the song is going to have some significance later. This movie doesn’t exactly hide its cards, kids. Anyway, it’s her friend Hunter, who was climbing the cliff with Becky and Dan when he fell to his death. Hooray! Becky lives!

Hear that? It’s the sound of an anvil dropping.

Hunter has “come back” from wherever she’s been because good old Dad called to tell her how bad off Becky is. Hunter does come across as likable and sincere in this scene, if a little pushy. See, Hunter has a new climb she wants to pull off, and she thinks Becks should come along, which seems a bit much to ask. But, according to her in some of the film’s signature clunky dialogue, Hunter tells her that if she doesn’t face her fears now she’ll be scared forever. Which may be true, but when your loved one plummets to his death in service to a cliffside that never wanted him there, well, maybe Becky should be afraid. I’m just saying. I think there are many, many things Hunter could have suggested here to push Becky out of her doldrums that did not involve putting her in danger. Maybe, I dunno, clean out your apartment instead? Take a trip to the beach? I’m just spitballin here.

What Hunter has in mind is climbing something she calls the “B67 TV Tower.” Cut to pictures Hunter has on her phone showing said tower. It’s tall. It’s rusty. It’s a tower. So yeah. Hunter wants Becky to climb this thing with her. It’s only a six-hour drive, after all, which – is it just me? – seems long a long way to travel. Damn, how long did they drive to reach The Cliff of Dan’s Departure? Because however long it took was too long, all things considered. Hunter wants the two of them to climb the tower, and Becky quite reasonably declines, although we all know she’ll change her mind because if she doesn’t, no movie. Sure enough, the next morning Becky walks into the bathroom while Hunter is brushing her teeth and says, “If you’re scared of dying don’t be afraid to live,” which is apparently something Dan used to say. Real deep, Dan. But maybe you should have been just a leeeeetle more afraid of dying dude. Just a little. But whatever – floating on a sea of Hunter and Dan’s platitudes, Becks is inspired. So she agrees to climb this TV tower. Hunter, of course, is thrilled.

Cut to Hunter and Becky driving up a dirt road in a desert-looking area, “Cherry Pie” accompanying their journey. Surprise! It’s Cherry Pie time again! Then we cut to inside the SUV where Becky is watching a video of herself on Hunter’s phone. She’s pole dancing – sort of? – in that we see her grab a pole and attempt to bend herself backward. Oof. I hope that wasn’t some kind of competition. Becky comments on how “ripped” she was, although she looks no different to me, and Hunter tells her she is awesome and she wants that old Becky back. So couldn’t you have suggested that they go do some pole dancing instead of this? Seems way safer. Becky then starts flipping through Hunter’s other photos in that incredibly intrusive and inappropriate way most people do when you give them your phone to show them ONE PICTURE. Stop doing that, people. It’s rude as fuck.

Seriously, where is the rest of this dude? Is he reaching out to her from the bathroom?

Becky flips to a picture of Hunter leaning over a balcony railing and smiling widely. She has a lovely smile. There’s what is clearly a man’s hand across her shoulder. Gee, who is that guy, Becky wonders. Hunter blanches a bit and says she doesn’t even remember because it was so long ago. Annnnnnnd if you can’t see that bit of writing on the cliff wall then I don’t know what to do with you. Not subtle, this film.

I’d prefer to skip this next scene, which is just the girls eating in a diner, but there are anvils aplenty that must be dropped, so here we are. We find out that Hunter has a YouTube channel called “Danger D,” which is completely horrible, and if you don’t get the hint that she names her channel Danger D and has no D in her name and Becky’s husband was named Dan, then again, you’re on your own here. Because seriously. Becky still has no clue though, and focuses not on the horrible channel name but on the fact that Hunter appears to be playing a character on her channel and not acting like her real self. Because in general, that never happens. Whatever Becky. Hunter exposits that her channel is sponsored, so she makes coin from going on dangerous excursions. I can’t recall if it’s now or later when Hunter says she just doesn’t feel alive unless she’s doing something dangerous, which aside from being clunky as hell, I guess also explains the whole “Danger D” situation. Climbing towers is one thing, but sleeping with married men? Now that’s dangerous. But somehow I suspect she didn’t upload those videos to her channel. Moving on.

I can honestly say I’ve never eaten at a roadside diner that has lamps on the table. Is it just me?

We gotta plunk down one more anvil before we leave – Becky’s phone is out of juice, so Hunter removes the light bulb from the lamp, and aligns the prongs of Becky’s charger with the holes that I assume hold the light bulb in place? I dunno, all I know is she does this and Becky’s phone starts charging. Since this is a lot of focus on something that surely doesn’t seem to matter, we can only assume this will come in handy at some point in the future.

Cut to Becky in a dream, lying in bed with Dan beside her. She tells him she loves him, and Dan responds by – tapping on her hip with his fingertips? He basically taps out the letter of each word in the phrase “I love you,” (tap once for I, tap four times for love, and three times for you – whatever Dan) and by the way Becky reacts this is the first time he’s done such a thing. I have no idea how long they’re supposed to have been married by now, or why this matters, or why he doesn’t just say it anyway, but suddenly Becks is covered with blood and then she wakes up. Time to climb! There’s a shot of the hotel floor as the curtains wave in the breeze, and damn, that is one dirty floor. Do not walk barefoot in there, Becky! Talk about danger.

Unfortunately, Hunter is much more interested in filming a spot for her YouTube channel than paying attention to where she’s driving, because the two haven’t even left the parking lot before almost creamed by an oncoming truck. Do not trust Hunter, Becky! She’s still likable, but I get the feeling that the only thing y’all are going to be climbing is the stairway to heaven. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s get to this damn tower and get the movie started for real. It’s ridiculously tall. It’s old. It’s surrounded by fencing and menacing signs that unsurprisingly warn people that death is lurking. So maybe they should be unafraid to live? But Becky is afraid, so fuck off, Dan. As Hunter describes the tower to her iPhone – to be uploaded to YouTube later – Becky quite reasonably starts to panic. She tells Hunter she can’t do it. Because she is a sane human being. But Hunter ain’t havin it. She gives Becky a pep talk that would be sympathetic and kind if she were trying to convince Becky to do anything other than this to get over her fears. But it works. Becky tells Hunter that’s the kind of inspiring message she should be posting on Instagram instead of her Danger D persona, and I thought it was YouTube, but whatever movie. Off they go towards the tower.

Hunter runs to the bottom of the tower, exclaiming “Holy shit! How awesome is this?” which it clearly is not, Hunter. And there’s something forced in her tone that leads me to believe she knows it’s not. She comes across as trying just a little too hard to be stoked here, which could be her staying in Danger D mode or something. And here is where I have to mention a few other things that bother me about Ms. D. Why is she wearing Converse tennis shoes? Becky had the smarts to wear actual climbing clothes, but Hunter looks like she’s dressed for Coachella instead of the B67 TV tower. Maybe she’s dressed for the Fyre Festival. I hear it’s making a comeback. Short shorts, Converse sneakers, a push-up bra that elevates her knockers (tits get the clicks, she says, and heh. I’ll give her that one). She 100% is not dressed like a serious climber, while Becky is in athletic gear. What gives, Hunter? I guess this is just her dressing for her followers, but if her followers really expect her to wear useless outfits while risking her life then they should all fuck off, in my opinion. Anyway, they do that thing climbers do when they hook themselves together because that is helpful for reasons I don’t understand. Maybe we should ask Dan, who is in Becky’s backpack at the moment, by the way, so they can scatter his ashes from the top of the tower.

And here comes the best part of this movie, hands down (or up, such as it is). The movie has actually done a decent job of building up tension leading to this moment, and some shots of old, shaky nails, rusted-out beams, and rickety wires help raise the stakes. This thing is tall, y’all, and it is absolutely insane that these two are going to climb it. But I’m at home on my sofa so I’m here for it.

I don’t know what I was thinking really, but I was surprised to see there was a ladder that went all the way up to the top of this thing. I mean, hey, it’s only a ladder, right? Just take it one rung at a time and all will be fine! The ladder is inside a cage-like structure for 1800 feet (info thanks to Hunter and her future uploads), but the last 200 feet are out in the open as the ladder breaks free from the structure. Seriously, why? You couldn’t extend the cage another lousy 200 feet, tower? When they reach that part, it’s gonna be windy as hell, and basically awful all around. Hunter is up ahead in her Converse and push-up bra, with Becky trailing behind and panicking the entire way. Remember, this is supposed to be good for you, Becky! Hang in there!

No. Just no.

There’s lots of cuts between the duo climbing ever higher, and the structure getting ever more unstable. Somehow, neither one notices. I mean, the thing is shaking, y’all, and shit is just falling off it left and right, plummeting so far down that we can’t see it hit solid ground. This is ridiculous. Why is this happening. Stop this, movie. You’ve lost your mind. Becky grabs one of the rusted rungs, and it snaps off, falling to the ground. We watch it go down in a sickening shot. I don’t even think they’re halfway up yet. Hunter asks if she is OK, and Becky rightly tells her she is not. Because of course she’s not. Hunter keeps climbing up gleefully. Somebody please stop her.

Where is the top of this tower, movie? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHERE IS THE TOP OF THIS TOWER

They stop for water. Hunter is amazed that the diner looks like part of a little toy town. Yes, that’s how heights work, Hunter. Next, she’s going to say that everyone looks like ants down there. Imagine what people would look like if they fell off this thing, Hunter. It’s called foreshadowing.

This climbing segment is the best part of the movie, but trying to describe it in detail here would fail to capture that, so suffice it to say after much trembling, quaking, shaking, and looking down when one should clearly only look up, the duo make it to the top of this thing. And they’re happy about this. I get being happy that you didn’t die and all, but I do not get being happy standing on a tiny little rusty metal platform 2000 feet in the air. Go home, movie. The thinning air has bloated your brain.

The girls celebrate for a while, sending Hunter’s drone out to circle around them and take some sickening shots of them risking their lives for thrills and clicks. They also scatter Danger Dan’s ashes. He’s not worth the risk, Becks. You should have just flushed him.

So, woo-hoo, wee-hee, we’re on top of the world. Isn’t Becky glad she faced her fear? Wasn’t Hunter right all along? And just when Becky is about to agree with that statement, Hunter hands Becks her camera and tells her to film her as she squats down and then hangs off the platform like she’s in the world’s worst Presidential Physical Fitness Flexed-Arm Hang. But this is Danger D, after all, so she can’t just hang there holding onto the edge of the platform like a moron, she has to take one hand off for added Darwin points. You win, Ms. D, you win. Can you please stop this now?

D is for Danger. And also for Dan, dipshit, and dumbass. And dead. Spoilers, Hunter!

Somehow this young and healthy but not even remotely muscular young lady manages not to die and hauls herself back onto the platform. I think we all know what comes next.

Hunter harangues Becks into following suit. “The old Becky would have done it,” she says, but I mean, the old Becky was married to a philandering asshole, so maybe that’s not the most inspiring thing she could have said. But it works. Hunter reassures her that it will all be fine because she is going to hold her hand while she dangles 2,000 feet in the air. That’s right, folks, the chick with a bad YouTube handle and not one visible muscle is going to dangle another human with one arm from the top of a 2,000-foot tower. I mean, not even Michael Jackson was this reckless with Blanket, for Christ’s sake. But soon it’s done. Becky dangles, Hunter manages to both hold her with one arm and snap a photo of her with the other and then pull her back onto the platform. Seriously, can Hunter fly as well? I hope so, because that is a skill she’s going to need pretty soon.

Enjoy this moment, kids

So okay, great. They climbed and conquered this salty bitch of a tower. Now it’s time to get back down to earth. Except the tower has some cards of its own up its steely sleeve, and it’s about to play its creaky old hand. They hook themselves back up or do whatever it is that climbers do before they descend anything they just scaled. Becky goes first. Off the tower and onto the ladder she goes, and as soon as she lets go of Hunter’s superhumanly strong hand, the ladder emits a sickening crack and series of jolts as the camera close-ups on screws popping off and the ladder un-attaching itself from the pole. The ladder breaks free from the top of the platform, sending Becky backward as it folds in half. NEVER LET GO OF HUNTER’S SUPERHUMAN HAND, BECKY. I feel like this one’s kind of on you.

I think this same thing happens in Urban Cowboy except Bud was only hanging like, 300 ft. Have you learned nothing from Bud and Sissy, Becky? Because it sure looked like you were downing all those depression drinks at Gilley’s.

So now Beck’s back to dangling off of the tower again, albeit at a slightly lower elevation. I doubt she finds that comforting. Becky hangs off the edge of the folded ladder for a few seconds before the ladder completely detaches from the tower and plummets to the ground. Becky follows, saved only by the miracle rope tied to Hunter, who uses that one miracle hand to grab onto the pole and stop herself from being dragged down with her.

Becky pulls a Dan by flailing and spinning from the rope while repeatedly banging into the pole and freaking the fuck out. Except this time I don’t blame her. They were nowhere near this high when Dan and his wandering dick met their demise. Hunter uses Magic Hand to wrap the rope around the tower pole and start pulling Becky back up. Hey, I just had a thought – do you think Hunter’s Magic Hand had anything to do with Dan being tempted to cheat on his wife? Seems likely.

Magic Hand manages to pull Becky back up onto the platform and they both start laughing uncontrollably. I get it, you almost died, except that you didn’t. It would be funny if only they still had a ladder to use to climb down, but Becks leans over and looks down, realizing they do not.

Oops.

And here is where we enter a whole new world of stupid. Because, as it turns out, neither Hunter nor Becky told anyone where they were going, or what they were going to do when they got there. Not even Danger D’s followers know where they are, because Hunter likes to record all the important segments of a new stunt and edit them all together before uploading, rather than upload each segment as she goes. Great job, Hunter. And yes I am putting more blame on you than on Becky because this was your stupid idea, and Becky hasn’t spoken to anyone for like a year so who would she tell? What does your Magic Hand have to say for itself now, DD? Maybe they can jump off and try to land on Dan’s ashes.

I’d also like to point out that it’s clear Hunter did not check out this tower before hooking herself to Becky and climbing up it, because even a perfunctory inspection would have proven that this structure is not stable. I mean, the camera showed us the tower’s flaws way before you gals passed Eiffel Tower height, so I think Hunter should have been able to detect them. If she’d bothered to look, that is. Which she didn’t.

Oh hey! It’s a real tower! It’s not called the B67 Radio Tower, but it is a real structure

Okay, so we’re 40 minutes into this thing, and it’s time to set up some complications for our climbers. Complications aside from being stuck 2,000 feet in the air, that is. Because just watching them try to climb back down wouldn’t be all that thrilling if they say, figured out some way to rappel down (wouldn’t they need a 2,000-foot rope though?) or did that thing lumberjacks do where they loop something around the tree trunk and scurry down to the ground.

Like this?

First, they realize their cell phones can’t get reception because they’re up too high (I tried to research whether or not that’s a thing but gave up). As previously mentioned, no one knows where they are. And if it wasn’t obvious from the photos, it’s worth pointing out that the tower is in the middle of the desert, with nothing around for miles. It’s also worth pointing out that this just confirms their stupidity in not letting anyone know where they are. Oh, and Becky’s tower tumble cut a huge gash into her leg that’s bleeding. Hunter has a drone, but the batteries have run down, and true to form Ms. D didn’t bring extras. But even if she had, the gals couldn’t get to them because Becky was wearing the backpack when the tower ladder collapsed, and it fell from her shoulders onto a satellite dish attached to the tower about 100 feet below. This also means they don’t have any water. I’m going to assume these dipshits didn’t pack any food.

So. They have no ladder, no drone, no cell service, no food, and no water. But hey! They do have some binoculars they find in an emergency box and exactly ONE flare loaded into a gun, so if any other human being decides to wander this far into The Desert of Nothingness they can get said human’s attention. Or maybe a spaceship will crash nearby and they can get the attention of the astronauts before they all convince themselves they’re on a foreign planet and kill each other for the supplies. Thank you, Twilight Zone.

Hunter uses the binoculars to spot an old camper in the distance. It looks abandoned. Try again, Hunter. She remembers that her cell phone was getting service when they were at the bottom of the tower before they started climbing. so they decide to tie her phone to the end of their rope and dangle it down as far as they can, after typing out a help message set to upload to her followers as soon as the phone connects. It doesn’t. Hunter decides to try and drop the phone lower by climbing off the platform and onto the tiny piece of ladder still connected to the pole, which is in no way going to make a difference, but it looks good.

It doesn’t work

Their next plan is to toss Hunter’s phone down to the ground since they know it got cell service when at sanity level. Of course, if they throw the phone from this height, it will just smash to bits – should we call that a preview? – unless they can reinforce it with something to cushion the fall. Is it too late to get Dan’s ashes back? Of course it is, so they decide one of DD’s useless Converse shoes can finally be useful if they stuff the phone into it. Now it’s time for more stupidity. Hunter takes off a Converse and starts to shove her phone into it, but Becky thinks it needs more padding and asks her to take off her sock too. Hunter’s face gets all panicked like it did when Becks asks her who the dude was with her in that picture she saw on Hunter’s phone, and she pauses a quick minute before agreeing to take it off. And if you don’t get how that means Hunter has a tattoo of Dan or at least something Dan-adjacent on her ankle then seriously, stop reading. I’m cutting you off. Becky suggests Hunter take off her ridiculous push-up bra and shove it in the shoe for even more cushion; Hunter agrees. We get this really cool tracking shot of the shoe as it falls; screenshots don’t do it justice but I tried. They can’t even see it hit the ground, so who knows if it worked or not. Oh who I am kidding, we all know it didn’t.

Now that Hunter’s shoe-and-sockless on one foot, Becky notices she has a tattoo – not on her ankle, more like on her instep, which is odd. We just have a second to register that the tattoo says “143” before Hunter exclaims that she sees a guy walking around at the base of the tower. Hmmm, where have we heard those particular numbers in that particular order before? And why didn’t Hunter just take off the other shoe so this little detail would never be seen? Maybe she has a matching one on her other instep. Whatever, Hunter. We’re not worried about that right now because there is indeed a dude with a dog walking around right below them.

Dude’s on his phone, talking to someone about mailing him a check. The girls start screaming, and while the dog hears them, the dude does not, and even after Becky throws both her shoes off the tower to get his attention he walks away. Sorry gals. That sucks. And now you have no shoes. All hope is not lost, though, because the dude and his dog apparently are living in that camper they thought was abandoned, along with another dude. Becks wants to shoot the flare right away, but Hunter rightly assesses that they can’t risk doing it until one of these guys is looking in their direction. And being a little darker outside wouldn’t hurt, either.

The girls engage in the least practical stakeout ever as they peer at the camper through binoculars from 2,000 feet, waiting for them to turn in their direction. Hunter is convinced the two dudes are lovers, which I can’t imagine would matter in this scenario. Gay or straight, they see the flare Becky shoots into the sky, so they leap into the camper and start driving towards the tower. They can, in fact, see them, as Becky and DD are going crazy, waving their cell phone flashlights into the air and screaming. Sure enough, the dudes are coming for them – except no. They’re just coming to steal Hunter’s car, seeing as being stuck 2000 feet up in the air diminishes the possibility of getting caught by the owners significantly. They rev up her SUV and drive off. Damn, that’s cold, my dudes. I hope you never get that check.

OK so, it’s nighttime, which is the perfect time for the movie to put us to sleep. It’s only been 55 minutes, so if they want to get this sucker to feature film length some more stuff’s going to have to happen. But the writers have stuck their protagonists on a tiny little platform 2000 feet in the air in the middle of the desert, so what else can they do except work in some silly emotional beats that don’t resonate at all. These characters are pretty one-dimensional to start with, so there’s no reason anyone would care about their relationship conflicts, but movie’s gotta movie, so here we go.

Somehow the gals have fallen asleep sitting upright with their backs against the pole. I guess Becky could do some pole dancing to spice things up, but hurt leg and all, right? Anyway, Hunter starts to roll off the tower in her sleep but Becky catches her, then tells her that Dan could never say I love you. What is this stupid trope? I know I’ve heard it before, and it’s ridiculous. Why would you marry a dude who can’t say he loves you? That’s clearly problematic. You’d almost think a dude who couldn’t say I love you to his wife might be cheating on her, which is why Becky says this to Hunter after we get another shot of her 143 instep tattoo. Hunter immediately cops to having slept with Danger Dan. Man, she cracked easily. Being trapped atop a 2000 tower really gets to you after a while, I guess. Bafflingly, Becky does not toss Hunter off the tower, but she does move to the other side of the pole so they are back to back. Heh.

But honestly, who cares about any of this? Dan was literally onscreen for like, 40 seconds before meeting his maker, and we saw nothing about Becky’s relationship with him to make us care at all about this situation. Hell, we know more about Becky and Hunter’s relationship than we know about either one of their relationships to Danger Dan, and we barely know anything about Becky and Hunter. How long have they been friends? How did they meet? Did they go to college together, or just pass each other on the way up a mountain? When did Danger Dan come into the picture? Who knew Dan first? Did Hunter and Dan sleep together before or after he married Becky? These things matter, folks, and we know none of it. Hell, we know more about the pole than we do any other character, so I’m Team Pole now. Go fight win, pole. We’re all rooting for you.

The sun has risen, and Hunter is explaining why and how she fell in love with Dan. I wonder if they’ve been having this conversation all night or if they’ve just picked the subject back up for some reason. There’s nothing all that unusual revealed here – she just couldn’t help falling in love with Dan – with Dan, for some reason – but when Becky asked her to be her maid of honor at their wedding she ended it. That – doesn’t seem soon enough, DD. She says she loved Dan, but she loved Becky more, and I can’t see how either of those things are any consolation to Becky now that she’s stuck up a pole without a ladder, so whatever Hunter. And for that matter, whatever Becky, because there is nothing interesting in any of this at all.

It appears the movie has wasted enough time, though, because Hunter decides to try and rappel down to the satellite tower and retrieve their backpack. Becky tells her it’s a bad idea, and Hunter pops off with “Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll fall,” which, way to make this all about you, Ms. Passive Aggressive. She ties one end of the rope to the tower pole, then lowers herself down off the tower while holding on to it. I don’t think there’s any maybe about this, Hunter. You are definitely gonna fall.

AAHHHHHHH

Except she doesn’t. She somehow makes it down to the satellite dish and leaps onto it without either her or the dish falling to the ground.

And again: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

See what I mean? No matter how lame and plot-holey parts of this movie might be, shots like this will always give you the willies. So good job, movie. More of this, less of relationships with Dan, please. Speaking of plot holes, here comes one of my favorites: Hunter makes it onto the satellite and retrieves the backpack. But oh noes! The rope is too far away for her to reach it and climb back up! Never mind that Becky could clearly just MOVE THE ROPE OVER TO WHERE HUNTER COULD REACH IT. Nope. Hunter ends up having to do all sorts of acrobatics here to get the backpack and herself back up to the platform because Becks is either too stupid or too pissed at her to just swing the damn rope closer to the satellite dish. I mean, I am not a climber but even I could figure this one out.

Oh, if only there was some way I could reach it…

We go through a whole thing where Hunter has to get the backpack hooked onto the rope and then she has to do this Cirque du Soleil-style leap to grab onto it herself, but of course, she eventually pulls this off. Speaking of, imagine how cool this movie would have been if Hunter and Becky had been Cirque du Soleil performers. They’d totally be on the ground by now. Oh, who am I kidding? Clearly, they would both be clowns.

Yep, she really does this.

Now it’s Becky’s turn to access her superhuman strength to pull Hunter, and the backpack, back up to the platform. She almost does it too, except at the last minute Hunter’s foot slips, and she goes hurtling back down. Did she die? Of course not. She’s still at the end of the rope, but now she’s sitting on top of the backpack, having ripped open her palms in the fall. Becky now has to pull Hunter back up on her own, as she sits on the backpack because Hunter can’t use her hands anymore. You know how this ends. She pulls it off, and Hunter is saved. Okay, movie. It was way more fun than watching these two talk about how much they loved Danger Dan, so I’ll go with it

Now they have water, and Hunter’s drone. This is where we find out Hunter didn’t bring extra batteries, so way to go Hunter. If only they had a way to charge the drone back up again…

There’s a dream sequence that doesn’t matter so I’m skipping it, except to say there are vultures. Or maybe they’re buzzards -I don’t know shit about birds. This might be important later. The next morning they realize they can probably use the big blinking red light at the tippy top of the tower to charge the drone, you know – just like Hunter showed us back in the diner! So now Becky has to crawl her skinny ass up even higher – I mean, however high it is, it’s more than 2,000 feet so does it even matter – so she can take the light bulb out and stick the drone charger in there, and hold it in place while the thing charges. I mean, bitch doesn’t even have shoes at this point, but whatever. She somehow pulls herself up there, with Hunter encouraging her by singing – you guessed it – Cherry Pie, and apparently, this big-ass tower with its big-ass red light just has a regular-ass old light bulb in it that she can take out and use the base as a charger. That seems improbable, but whatever. It works. Later, seventeen planes crash right into the tower because Becks took the bulb out. Hey, let’s watch that movie!

Before the drone fully charges, a buzzardy-vulture-ish creature starts whacking Becks with its claws, because of course it does. It’s actually – kinda funny. Unfortunately, Becky learned nothing from the time she lost their backpack when the ladder went all un-ladderish on her, because she’s carrying it again, and the devil bird manages to knock it off her shoulder. Down it goes, right past Hunter, who just – stands there and watches it fall. It literally flies right past her, and Magic Hand could have grabbed that thing in an instant, but she doesn’t even try. What gives, Hunter?

Becky fights off the demon bird somehow, gets the drone charged, and shimmies back down the pole (Cherry Pie, indeed) so they can attach an SOS to the drone and send it flying in the hopes of it reaching the hotel where they stayed. You know, down in that tiny little toy town. As soon as Becky is back on solid platform she asks Hunter why she didn’t catch the backpack, but before Hunter can totally not answer her at all, Becks barfs over the side and the moment is forgotten. They need to get a message down to Tiny Town pronto. We’re an hour and 24 minutes in, so this could be the thing that really works – except the dumbasses fly too close to the street as it reaches the hotel – and crunch. A truck smashes it to pieces. Damn, these two have the worst luck ever.

It’s getting dark, and Becks is losing energy along with her last vestiges of hope. She wants to sleep. She doesn’t think she can make it through another night. Hunter, who seems in much better shape than Becky at this point, tells her not to talk like that. Nonsensically, she tells Becky she needs to eat something. Yeah, no shit, Hunter, but what is she supposed to eat? Hunter tells her there’s always a solution, and clearly no, there’s not, but Hunter warns Becks that she can’t fall asleep because the demon birds can smell her rotten leg wound and are just waiting to pounce on her. I don’t know if this is how demon birds actually work, but hey, something’s gotta end these two at some point so fine. Still, Hunter is acting peculiarly calm right now. Becky says they should try to drop her cell phone, which has yet to run out of battery life somehow, and asks if they can use Hunter’s other shoe to cushion it. Hunter says she can’t, because her other shoe isn’t up on the platform. Becks is confused. What do you mean? It’s right there on your foot. Except that Hunter’s foot isn’t on the platform. It’s on the satellite dish below, where the rest of Hunter’s dead body is. Dun-dun-duhhhhhhn!

Ghost-Hunter (heh) tells Becks that after she retrieved the backpack from the dish, then slipped when she was almost back to the tower, Becky did not, in fact, save her by pulling her back up while she sat on the backpack. What really happened is that Hunter fell all the way back onto the satellite dish and bled out, She even asks Becky if she really believed that she was strong enough to pull Hunter all the way back up on her own, to which I say, good point, Hunter. Finally, someone realizes the implausibility of all this. Becky freaks out, rightly so, and as Hunter’s voice fades out for good she says that Becks was too afraid to admit to herself that she was all alone, so she hallucinated Hunter still being alive. This is a silly plot twist that was in no way needed, so that’s all I am gonna say about it. Moving on.

Now it’s dark and windy and thundering, and Becky’s hanging on to that pole for dear life. Cherry Pie, Becky, Cherry Pie. She pulls a Blair Witch and uses her iPhone with it’s Miracle Battery to record a goodbye message to Dad, since she’s clearly gonna die up there now. It gets confusing at this point, because as Becks is recording this message it cuts to her father, trying to text her on his phone, and it sure looks like he is listening to the message Becky recorded. Maybe Dad is hallucinating too? No, the movie is just showing us what Dad is doing at the exact moment Becks is recording her message, but it’s still confusing.

Cut to the next morning, and Becks is looking a lot like someone who’s been stuck atop a 2,000-foot tower for days. In other words, she looks dead. A vulture agrees, and settles down to munch on her leg wound. Nom nom nom goes the vulture. Oh hell no, goes Becky, and she and the vulture engage in a battle of the wits and wings. Once again, it’s pretty funny. There’s no way to fight a big ass bird and not look ridiculous, it seems. But Becky wins the battle, breaks the bird’s neck, and then turns the platform on it by eating the damn thing raw. Ew. I feel ike this should at least make her a little queasy if not downright ill, but no, Dead Buzzard gives her more energy than a Red Bull (how can they have not made that a marketing drink? Dead Buzzard! More Energy Than a Cherry Pie!) and Becky is officially OVER this fucking tower.

Looking every inch like the buzzard-eating badass she is, Becky pulls her hair back, hooks herself to the rope, and lowers herself over the side of the platform. In spite of all the silliness this movie contains, I think the actress really nails this scene. If only she’d nailed the ladder to the tower better none of this would have been necessary, but then we wouldn’t have been able to see Becky really take her power back. and haul herself down to the satellite dish where Hunter’s body is.

Yaasss Becky! Do that thing!

The music crescendos as Becky rappels down to the dish and unhooks herself when she runs out of rope, landing next to Hunter like she’s been doing this shit all her life. I’m inspired in spite of myself – how can I not be? Bitch just ate a raw bird and slid 100 feet down a 2,000-foot tower in the blink of an eye. Give us more Becky! There’s a vulture on the dish that is not pleased Becks interrupted its dinner. Becky looks it square in the eye and stares that fowl down, and the vulture dips. That chick has vulture blood dripping down her chin, man. I ain’t messin with that.

Becky holds Hunter’s dead hand for a while and I gotta say Hunty doesn’t look all that dead to me. What if Becks is hallucinating again, and she’s really cuddling a dead vulture? But we know she is not, because she types out a text to her dad telling him where she is, yanks off Hunter’s other shoe (I was half expecting Hunter to have a tattoo of her Dad’s face on her other foot, but no) and then – to be sure her phone makes a soft landing – she shoves the shoe all the way down into one of Hunter’s flesh wounds – and shoves that chick right off the satellite dish. Sorry, Hunter, she tells her, but I have to be sure this message gets through. The new iPhone 17! It sends texts through human flesh! But also, you cannot convince me a little part of her did not enjoy doing that. Bye-bye, Hunter. Tell Dan I’m not afraid of living.

Sorry Hunter – but you gotta goooooooo

Then the satellite dish gives a sickening lurch, just to remind us that Becky is still most likely as good as dead. And then the movie makes the weirdest choice. We cut from that to Becky’s Dad, driving like a bat out of hell through the night. He drives past the Tiny Town Hotel and the smashed drone. Ooooh, maybe he’s gonna have to climb up to the satellite and get Becky down! How cool would that be? But no – he approaches the B67 tower and there are flashing lights and helicopters all around. Aw damn, Dad doesn’t get to play hero? But still, watching a helicopter lift Becks off that tower will look really cool. Except – no. Dad gets out of his car, and there’s a dead body on the ground covered with a sheet. I think the movie is trying to trick me into believing that this is Becky – clearly, that is what Dad thinks – but I never thought it was anyone other than Hunter. I mean, this movie is NOT going to deprive us of the moment Becky gets rescued off that tower, is it? Except yes, it is.

Just as Dad is about to lose his shit, we hear Becky call out to him. She’s sitting in an ambulance covered in a blanket. Um, yay? She’s alive, and while Dad is happy, I can’t help but feel let down. How could we not see Becky’s rescue at all? Is it just to give us a cheap half-second of thinking she’s dead like her father does? That’s all I can figure because otherwise, the choice makes zero sense. Becky runs into her father’s arms, tells him she is going to be okay, and as Hunter’s body is carried away, we hear her voice repeating her inspiring speech about how life is short and blah blah blah. I don’t like this choice either. It should have been Becky’s voice we hear in those last movie moments, not her cheating friend who carelessly led her up a tower and almost got her killed. Wrong move, movie. Wrong move.

But yay for Becky anyway. I mean, the movie didn’t give her the full resurrection she deserved, but she made the most of what she did get. Now I just want to see her hunt down those guys that stole Hunter’s car and beat their lousy asses.

Horror Movie Fave: The Harbinger (directed by Andy Mitton, 2022)

SPOILERS BELOW! Don’t read if you don’t want to know.

What’s the Horror: A deadly pandemic (yeah, I know, but I promise this one is worth watching)

Does the Dog Die? No animal cruelty in this one

Gore Factor: Maybe a 2? There’s really no gore to speak of here. Trust me, it doesn’t need it.

Character Quality: Excellent. Gabby Beans (as Monique) is captivating.

Re-Watch Scale: Not too often. Not because it isn’t amazing, which it is, but it’s a hard watch given that most of us, self included, really want to just forget all about the early days of lockdown, when no one knew what the hell we were dealing with and how long it was going to last.

SPOILERS AHEAD – LAST WARNING

The Harbinger came out in 2022, as did another film called simply Harbinger. I’m not sure if that’s why this one didn’t get as much attention as it deserves, but trust me, it deserves your attention. It deserves ALL the attention. Better than any pandemic-based movie I’ve seen over the past few years, The Harbinger serves as a sad, scary metaphor for death and how fear of it can completely dominate people’s lives. It also evokes the panic and trepidation of those early weeks and months of COVID-19, when everything, and everyone, felt dangerous, and learning how to navigate our lives in a different way felt daunting and depressing.

Gabby Beans as Monique

The Harbinger presents us with a world in still, silent turmoil: Monique has moved back into her father’s house with her brother to stay with them during the pandemic. She’s uprooted herself in order to ride out the crisis with her loved ones, hiding out at home and marveling over how they can now order groceries in advance and pick them up without making any contact with anyone (remember how novel that was in the beginning?). It’s the dead of winter, and while Monique and her family sit down for a warm family dinner, the view outside is cold, grey, and completely still – there’s nothing going on out there, no movement, no action, no life.

But there’s a twist here that, even though it’s not a detail the real pandemic contained, feels as real as COVID itself: in this version of the pandemic, when you die, everyone you ever knew immediately forgets that you ever existed. Let that sink in for a moment. The second you’re snuffed out, all of your loved ones forget who you are. And every time someone you love checks out, you forget who they were. Imagine it: All over the globe, people are looking at photos on their phones wondering who the hell that person is. And it’s you. Terrifying. Aren’t we all afraid of being forgotten after we’re gone? Isn’t so much of what we do in life an attempt to leave a legacy behind? Imagine being a parent and realizing that your children will forget you the instant you stop breathing. Now imagine being locked up in your apartment, looking at photos of strange people and wondering why the hell you’re surrounded by images of strangers. It’s horrifying, existential stuff. It harkens back to that first year of COVID-19, when the number of dead became so overwhelming we grew numb to it, unable to comprehend how so many human beings could perish in one day. And we weren’t even able to honor them with a funeral service. They just … died. And if they had to be hospitalized, that was another kind of disappearance, because you couldn’t visit them. You didn’t get to say goodbye. So many people died afraid and alone. And The Harbinger harkens back to those fears with astounding accuracy.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. It will take a while before anyone learns the truth about what The Harbinger does to any life it snuffs out. First, there’s a different dilemma Monique faces that will be familiar to all of us: she has a friend who lives in the city (I think it’s New York) and she is distressed. She’s in a very bad place, and she’s all alone. She’s a friend Monique hasn’t kept in touch with since college, but when they were close, Mavis helped Monique through a particularly dark time. According to Monique, Mavis saved her life, and Monique promised her that no matter what, she would do the same for Mavis if she was ever in need. And she’s desperately in need now. How many of us faced a situation like this throughout the pandemic? Going to visit a sick friend was an absolute minefield, and if a friend or family member needed anything at all, you had to evaluate whether or not helping them out was worth the risk. Monique decides it’s worth the risk, and against the advice of her family, she goes to help her friend.

A big part of Mavis’s distress is that she’s not just sick. She’s having visitations in her dreams. Nightmares from which she cannot wake. A horrible entity wearing an awful plague mask stalks her in her sleep. And it’s getting harder to resist it. Would it help just to know you’re not alone? Monique asks Mavis at one point, and damn, that hits hard. It should be such an easy thing to do, but during the height of COVID-19, it felt like an impossible task to accomplish for anyone. But Monique is a fucking hero. She made a promise, and once she arrives at Mavis’s apartment, she comes through for her friend, hugging her and even offering to sleep next to her so she won’t be so scared.

Unfortunately, human kindness in this situation means you risk being struck down by the same thing that’s tormenting the person you’re trying to help, and that’s what happens to Monique. She starts having bizarre dreams from the first night. So let’s talk about these dreams: Mavis describes how they’ve slowly increased in duration, to the point that now she sleeps for days at a time, unable to wake no matter what she does. The only reason she even knows she’s sleeping is because – she can’t go to sleep when she’s in them. She’s already asleep. And the plague doctor is always there, telling her it’s almost time for her to die, to fall asleep, and never wake up. Monique responds with empathy and support – exactly what anyone would do for a friend in this situation, except in this situation, showing up with empathy and support means you might be the next to die. It’s clear Monique doesn’t understand this, and whether or not she’d come to the aid of her friend if she knew is unclear. She probably would. It’s the sort of balance a lot of us had to deal with during the pandemic, and it forced us to make choices we never thought we’d have to make, to behave in ways we never thought we would behave. Suddenly, just extending a helping hand has disastrous consequences, and what that does to our collective psyche is incomprehensible.

Monique’s first dream reveals her as a child, walking through the snow with her mother. We can’t see Mom, but we hear her, calling Monique into the woods. She calls Monique “sparrow,” a detail that will matter later. Having already seen Monique with her family we know her mother has already died, and sure enough, instead of seeing her mother emerge from the woods, Monique sees a dark shrouded figure. Please don’t hurt me, she begs, and then we cut to Monique in the present moment, sitting upright on Mavis’s bed, still sleeping. She wakes up and checks her phone, only to find a long list of unreturned texts from her brother. Who knows how long she’s been asleep. Mavis is still snoozing, so there’s no way to know. Monique hears coughing from the apartment upstairs and goes out into the den to listen more closely. Her brother Facetimes her and immediately asks why she isn’t wearing her mask. And just like that, reality intrudes upon the safe little bubble Monique created with her friend. When it was just the two of them, it felt like the right thing to do to unmask and hug. But with her brother on the line asking questions, Monique struggles to justify herself. Again – such a familiar experience, right?

Her brother Lyle tells her their father started running a high fever the night before. They hope it’s not that, but they can’t be sure. Suddenly Mavis starts to scream, and just as suddenly, the ceiling caves in and the body of a little boy crashes through it, landing on the floor with a thud. He’s bleeding from his mouth. Panicked, Monique looks around for any sign of what the hell is going on, and through an open doorway, the image of the plague doctor appears. “He says it’s nice to meet you,” the ceiling kid says, and then Monique wakes up again – but is it for real this time? It’s already getting hard to tell. Damn, this plague moves fast, doesn’t it?

Lyle calls (again), but Dad is fine. And Mavis screams (again), but no one falls through the ceiling. Monique goes to Mavis, who has bitten her lip in an attempt to wake herself up. Monique asks Mavis to describe the entity to her, and she makes a sketch of it – looks like Monique is quite the artist given the quality of the sketch. Then they post the picture online everywhere they can, asking if others have seen the same thing. I’m surprised they don’t know anything about the plague doctor and his mask, but the internet has to tell them what it is. While they’re reading about it, they hear an ambulance siren stopping in front of the building. It’s the little boy. He was real, and he had the plague, and the ambulance is there to take him away. He’s dead.

We cut to nighttime. It’s raining as we peer through a rainy window. A woman is lying in bed as a young girl approaches her, and we see that it’s young Monique again, and the woman in bed is her mom. She crawls into bed with her, frightened by the storm, and saddened that she’s forgetting what her grandmother looks like. She’s afraid people will forget her when she dies. Mom reassures her that the end of her life is a long way off, then points at a picture of her grandmother to reinforce to Moniqe that she will be remembered. But the plague doctor is there, hiding in the corner of the room, and when Monique sees it her Mom changes. Some sort of black, thick tongue sneaks out from between her lips, and she shoves Monique under the covers. As she fights, Monique (in adult form) suddenly finds herself in some sort of morgue-mobile; it’s cold and blue and there are dead bodies on either side of her.

She bangs on the walls of the truck, begging it to stop. It stops. She leaps out, and finds herself in a dark room. A flashlight is at her feet. She picks it up and starts to walk through a hallway, trying to find a way out. Instead, she finds the little boy who died in Mavis’s apartment building. I can help you wake up, he tells her before plunging a needle into her temple. Monique wakes up screaming.

Unfortunately, Mavis is in worse shape than Monique. She’s standing stock-still in the middle of the bedroom, fast asleep. It’s unclear how long she’s been standing there. She’s urinated on herself. Monique cleans it up. It’s another reminder of how humiliating illness can be, how undignified our bodies can be as we die. Yet Monique is there to take care of her, even though she’s paying a heavy price. When Mavis screams herself awake, Monique admits that she’s seeing the plague doctor in her dreams now, too. Mavis is understandably distraught. She feels like she never should have called, that she’s doomed her friend just as surely as she is doomed herself. It’s a sucky way to feel, for sure, but there is nothing to be done now except deal with it. Monique isn’t ready to give up. She’s made an appointment with a demonologist for them to meet with on a Skype call.

The demonologist doesn’t have good news for the two. This entity they are seeing is NOT the plague, she says, but it feeds on the fear the plague creates. What it is, according to her, is a bad idea. It lodges in your head and won’t leave. This being has come to be known as The Harbinger because once you see it, it’s all over. It uses anything and everything it can to deepen your fear and confusion. And the more fear it generates within you, the deeper it digs – until at last it consumes you entirely. Everyone you’ve known, everything you’ve ever done, even everything you own disappears when it finally erases you. Because of this, it’s impossible to track. No living person even knows there’s something to track at all, because they’ve all forgotten the dead ever existed. The demonologist only knows about it because the process isn’t perfect; it often leaves relics behind like a photo or a piece of clothing, and through talking to so many people some relics of their stories have stayed in her memory. But she doesn’t remember anything about them. And that’s all the information she has – there’s no solution to the problem she can offer. She’s just hoping to stop the spread of the fear that invites the entity in.

Monique and Mavis are stunned. It’s not just the dying, Mavis tells Monique. It’s the cruelty of it, that no one will remember her when she’s gone. She shows Monique a picture of a man who is looking at her with love. Mavis has no idea who he is, but she can tell it is someone who loved her, but she has no recollection of their relationship. They both surmise that this is the person who infected Mavis. She probably loved that man too, Mavis concludes, but now he’s just gone as if he never existed. She cannot remember him. And she knows that when the plague doctor finally gets his hands on her, no one will remember her either. It’s brutal.

And it’s too much for Monique, who waits until Mavis falls asleep that night and then writes her a note before taking off. She drives back home to her father’s house, where her dad and her brother are both angry she’s come back after being exposed to the illness. Welcome home!

The note Monique leaves for Mavis

There’s a surreal conversation that takes place here; the camera cuts between close-ups of Monique and her brother as they discuss the consequences of her return. Close-up of the brother, talking through his mask: Monique has to isolate herself in her bedroom. Cut to close-up of Monique, also talking through her mask: yes, yes of course. Back to Lyle: and you have to wear your mask everywhere outside of your room. Cut to Monique: Absolutely. I promise. Cut back to Lyle: Did you do what you set out to do? Did you help your friend? Cut back to Monique, but this time – she’s not wearing her mask. Tears fill her eyes as she starts to tell them how she abandoned Mavis in her time of need, but Lyle cuts her off. Where is your mask? he demands of her, and Monique reaches instinctively for her face where her mask should be, but it’s gone.

Lyle’s body language shifts, as does that of their father. Lyle rushes Monique and grabs her roughly, dragging her up from the sofa and towards the stairs. “I’ll go! I’ll go!” Monique shouts, trying to get Lyle to stop manhandling her, but he persists, as Dad shouts at her to get upstairs. It’s another harsh reality of the pandemic that’s easy to understand: as soon as you’re infected, and at the point where you need the most love and support, you’re cut off entirely from everyone, left to handle the illness on your own. You know you’re a danger to others, but the instinct NOT to isolate is still there; as soon as Lyle shoves Monique into her room and slams the door, she turns around to see her dead mother sitting in her bed. Monique immediately starts pounding at the door, begging to be let out, but of course, no one comes to help her, because as far as they know this is just Monique trying to get out of isolation. Now the Harbinger appears before her, and she turns back to the door, pounding and shouting until she knocks a hinge loose and collapses onto the door as it smashes to the floor.

Monique stands up and looks around. She’s no longer at home; she’s in a funeral parlor. There’s an open casket at the end of the hall – it’s the boy from Mavis’s apartment building who died. Monique hears a sound – it sure sounds like Mavis screaming – and when she turns back around, the boy’s body is no longer in the casket. The lid slams shut, and the boy is standing behind it. He starts to walk towards her, and she takes off through a door at the back of the room. She ends up in a morgue, complete with a dead body on a table, and, still hearing the little boy’s footsteps behind her, hides inside an empty cabinet. The boy, of course, knows where she is, and gives us a good jump scare when Monique peeks out from behind the door. But he’s not following her to try and harm her; he wants to tell her that there’s a way to defeat the Harbinger. He knows this because he died from a disease that only adults were supposed to get, and that made him an aberration, even in the awful afterlife of the Harbinger. He wants to help her. Show me where you sleep, he says, and immediately they’re back in Mavis’s bedroom. The real Mavis and Monique are asleep in bed.

The boy tells Monique that the Harbinger is on its way, and soon the figure appears in the open doorway. Monique is frozen in fear, but the boy says the Harbinger is not there for her. It approaches the bed on Mavis’s side. We have to do something, Monique says, but the boy tells her they can’t because they are in a dream. They aren’t real, but the bodies on the bed are, and suddenly Mavis sits straight up and begins to scream. The Harbinger grabs at her and starts to drag her away as she screams and fights. Dream-Monique grabs her own sleeping body and starts shaking it, shouting at herself to wake up. We see Mavis as she is dragged off the bed and out the door, and as soon as she is gone Monique wakes up in Mavis’s apartment, alone. Every trace of Mavis has disappeared. It’s just an empty apartment. And Monique has no idea what she’s doing there. She’s forgotten Mavis already.

The landlord shows up to tell her that she can’t squat in an empty apartment, assuming Monique has been on some kind of bender. Monique has no idea where she is, or how she got there, so she calls Lyle, who’s upset with her for disappearing the way she did. He can’t understand how Mavis got into the city without her car, which is still at home (because she never drove into the city, since there is no Mavis now), and Monique can’t explain any of it. Lyle is frustrated, but kind, and the love between the two is clear, as is the strain Monique’s mental illness has put on their relationship in the past.

Once she’s back at home, Monique goes to bed, and as soon as she falls asleep she’s awake. Here we go again! She’s back in Mavis’s apartment, and it’s still furnished as if Mavis lived there. Monique has a moment of remembering, whispering Mavis’s name. The sadness in her eyes is heartbreaking. She walks into the den – the room where the little boy fell through the ceiling in another dream – and sits down on the sofa with a deliberateness that reveals her courage. She’s waiting for the Harbinger, and it’s clear she is going to confront it when it arrives.

And arrive it does, in dramatic fashion. Ol’ Harbinger is really pulling out all the stops for Monique here, materializing in the apartment on a wave of golden light. Monique stares at it knowingly before standing up and walking right up to it. They share a conversation that sheds some light on why Monique is not as afraid of the Harbinger as others might be: You have no family, the Harbinger tells Monique, in a voice that is clearly Monique’s own. You were never born. Just like you always wanted. So in a way, Monique’s past suicidal ideation has familiarized her with the Harbinger in some unconscious way, and the Harbinger is using this knowledge to get at her.

But Monique isn’t going down without a fight. She screams and digs her fingers into the open eyeholes of the Harbinger’s plague mask. Blood streams down its face. She grabs a knife, and in a flash, she’s stabbed the thing in the gut and tackled it to the floor. She saws off its head in a fit of rage, then covers its dead body with a sheet. Problem solved?

Unsure what else to do, Monique sits on the floor of the apartment and waits. Soon a bright blue light appears across her face, and there’s a knock at the door. She opens it, and the little boy is on the other side. The door no longer leads into the apartment hallway; it now opens onto the same bleak, snowy landscape Monique saw in her very first dream. She tells the little boy she’s happy to see him. He’s happy to see her too – but the green screen is really bad here. Ok, he didn’t say that last part, that was me. Moving on.

The little boy praises Monique for killing the Harbinger, then asks her if she wants to wake up. Monique didn’t realize that she could, and the boy says she can if she follows him. Out they go into the snowy woods. They make quite a pair, as neither one of them is dressed for chilly weather, but they don’t appear bothered. They walk deep into the woods until they come upon Monique’s bed nestled among the snowy trees. The boy encourages her to climb in, which she does. He tells her to close her eyes, and she asks him where he will go. He doesn’t know – maybe he’ll just disappear. Monique smiles at him kindly. I won’t forget, she tells him. The little boy smiles back at her. It’s a lovely moment.

She closes her eyes and wakes up in her bedroom. Her brother is there, and as soon as he sees that Monique is awake he calls out to their father. The two of them tell her about how she’s been unresponsive for three days, and how they had to badger their doctor to do something about it. The doctor ended up sending someone in a Hazmat suit to tend to her, and while they were there they administered all three of them a plague test. They were all negative. Damn, this just keeps getting better and better doesn’t it? And the light outside seems to agree – there’s no doubt this scene is brighter and more vibrant than any other scene in the movie up to this point. Monique is thrilled and clearly taken aback at all this good news.

We get some shots of a statue in the snow – the Angel of Hope, it says, and hey, why not? – and then a close-up of the family’s mailbox, which has a note on it reading “Thank you essential workers” with a heart drawn on it. These are good people, this family, and it’s a relief to know they’re all OK. It’s cathartic, after all the horror we’ve watched Monique go through so far.

A rare moment of happiness

Cut to Monique in her bedroom on her laptop, talking to the demonologist. She remembers the doctor, although not that the last time she met with her Mavis was there. She’s telling the demonologist about how she slept for three days straight without having any sort of dream, and the demonologist seems…significantly less enthused about this than one would expect. Monique notices, and asks her what’s wrong. The demonologist asks Monique how she knew what to do to escape the Harbinger and wake herself up, and Monique tells her it was an angel, a little boy who came to her and led her out.

If your demonologist makes this face, RUN

The demonologist looks panicked. She tells Monique that the Harbinger is everyone in her dreams. There is no one else there. Monique says this was different, and the demonologist reminds her that everyone and everything is a tool for the Harbinger, to get closer to her. Monique slams her laptop shut, not wanting to hear any of it. But it’s clear on her face that doubt has taken hold. I’m not ready to – she starts to say, when BAM! The Harbinger slams through her bedroom wall with violent force.

We cut to the brother and the father downstairs, who are both in a trance. At first, I was sure this meant they have both also been invaded by the Harbinger, but upon re-watch, I’m not so sure. They’re not asleep, they’re just frozen in place, so maybe that’s what happens to the uninfected while someone close to them is being taken? I’m still not sure. Either way, they stay stock still as the Harbinger drags Monique kicking and screaming down the stairs and out of the house. As soon as she’s gone, Lyle comes to while someone pounds on the front door. It’s a policewoman. Someone called in a report of some commotion in their house. But Lyle’s all alone there. Dad is in the hospital, and Lyle has no brothers or sisters. The officer asks if his dad is going to be OK, and Lyle says yes, he is, and that they are taking him off a ventilator and bringing him home the next day. The officer leaves, and Lyle looks around the room, confused.

Cut to the next day, when Lyle is helping his feeble father back into the house. They remove their masks and stand quietly in front of a window. It’s back to being cold and bleak outside. Lyle notices that Dad doesn’t seem happy to have survived, to be out of the hospital, and Dad says he could be happy if the world around him wasn’t so damaged and empty. Oh, if he only knew. Dad says a shadow is falling over them, and that he knows Lyle can feel it even if pretends he can’t. There are worse things coming, Dad says, and Lyle tells him he has to keep up hope. Dad asks why, and Lyle says that’s just what they do; they keep hoping. Dad isn’t convinced. He tells Lyle he’s going to bed. But as he walks towards the stairs, he sees something on the floor. He stops to pick it up. It’s a sketch of a sparrow, and it was clearly drawn by Monique. Dad looks up and around the room with a look of fear, sadness, and confusion on his face. His eyes are full of tears.

The end.

This is a heartbreaking film that’s scary in so many ways beyond supernatural jump scares and suspense, although there’s plenty of that as well. When the Harbinger slams through Monique’s wall after she hangs up on the demonologist, it’s a huge shock, even though we too have figured out that the Harbinger tricked her. I think it’s because she’s in the middle of making a statement (I’m not ready to…to what? To think about the possibility that she wasn’t saved? To die?) that the crash through the wall sent me through the roof. It’s a terrifying moment, but it’s well-executed and well-earned. This may be a tough movie to watch, especially at a time when the world’s collective trauma still has us running from all memories of that awful time – but it’s worth watching at least once for its sad, elegiac beauty.

Found Footage Faves: Bad Ben 10 & 11 – Eulogy and Undead

What’s the horror: ghosts (in the form of Tom Riley), zombies

Does the dog die? Nope

Gore factor: Nah – our man BB doesn’t go that way

Re-watch scale: Eulogy is not one I will re-watch, but Undead has grown on me much like Haunted Highway did.

Here we are again – Nigel Bach is crankin’ these movies out more quickly it seems, for better or worse. Mostly it’s for the better, but along the way, there’s bound to be some duds. Eulogy isn’t Bach’s strongest entry, but it does serve a necessary purpose in bridging the death of Riley in the last episode to future episodes. After confirming Tom was killed at the end of Benign, Bach has to do something to open the Rileyverse back up for future films, and in that regard, Eulogy serves its purpose. Also, I think Eulogy was made towards the end of the pandemic, when working with others was still dicey, so that probably affected the end result as well. And kudos must go out to Bach for continuing to make films throughout the pandemic – nothing slows this dude down, it seems, and even when the world feels apocalyptic, there he is, doing what he does. It’s pretty comforting.

With Eulogy, we start in familiar territory – an investigative podcaster has gained access to new footage regarding Tom Riley’s current predicament and plans to create a documentary about the goings-on for his viewers. We saw this premise in Badder Ben, and it worked well, so I don’t have any problems with Bach mining familiar territory here. After viewing the usual “this is footage we found” opening text, and a quick catch-up/review for anyone who’s either new to the franchise or has forgotten what happened in the previous nine movies, our investigator for this outing, who identifies himself as Jackson Scott, promises to show us new information that will, of course, blow our minds. Let’s get to work!

First, Jackson reminds us that somewhere along the way, Bach started a paranormal investigation service called Boo Be Gone, because of course he did. Jackson gained access to hours of recordings related to BBG through a Freedom of Information Request, and the first clip he shows is one of Tom Riley himself (hey, Tom!) with a collection of BBG’s contacts, client files, and recordings that he’s hiding in his shed. He wants someone to know where his shit is, in case anything happens to him, which we know has come to pass.

Jackson’s standing in front of Tom’s shed as he tells us this, then he uses a crowbar to break into it. He finds the files, and just as he’s about to leave he hears that familiar Bad Ben screech – it’s honestly the weirdest sound ever – and in an old mirror hanging crookedly on a wall of the shed appears the message: He Rots in Hell. Wow, thanks mirror. Now we know what happened to Tom so we can all go home, I guess.

Just kidding. Jackson’s got a ton of material to review now, so we cut to his studio where he’s ready to record a new episode. He starts off by telling us he’s contacted the people in Tom’s files, and any time he encountered someone who was willing to talk to him he asked them “One simple question: did you know Tom Riley?” We then cut to Tom talking about what he thinks people will say about him when he’s dead. “I think people will say, yeah, I knew Tom Riley,” he says, which, way to shoot for the absolute minimum there, Tom.Then we cut to a collection of Tom’s clients all saying, unsurprisingly, “Yeah, I knew Tom Riley.” So far, so good, Tom. You’re predicting the future quite well.

But not for long, because soon Tom is being asked what else people will say about him, and he of course says people will probably say he’s a nice guy. Cut to the same group of people calling him an asshole, moron, and idiot. Heh. It was a pretty obvious setup, but it’s still funny.

This is as good a place as any to mention a key component of this BB installment – all of the clients Jackson interviews throughout the movie are fans of the franchise. Nigel Bach started offering cameos and mentions in his movies to fans who donate a few episodes ago, and with each subsequent film, the number of contributing fans increases. This movie approaches that funding much like Pandemic did, by primarily using these contributors as minor characters in a series of vignettes. It’s a trick that worked well once, but I’m not sure it’s good enough to be used a second time as it gets old rather quick here. Each scene from Tom’s video diary has a random picture in the background that’s clearly another contributor, and different fans create the video vignettes Jackson shares, all of which discuss their experiences with using Boo Be Gone and Tom Riley to rid their house of evil spirits.

As you can imagine, there’s a varying level of acting talent among these fans, so not understanding why they’re being used in the film at all might make the viewing experience baffling. And the random photos that keep showing up behind Tom can be distracting, as they’re clearly added digitally into a frame rather than being real photos. It’s an odd problem to solve; Bach needs financing to keep doing what he does, and he went through some financial difficulty with a shitty distributor who screwed him over which led to needing even more outside help, so I get why he solicits fan donations. Being totally independent is key to Bach’s movies; he does homemade cinema better than just about anyone, but that does mean a lot of crowdfunding, and he needs to keep upping the stakes, I guess, so fans continue to donate. It can weigh the films down, to be honest – BUT, again, the pandemic must be considered here also. Now that the world is back to business, Nigel Bach can find a way to make his contributors and his viewers happy, as well as appeal to new viewers; I’ve no doubt of that. If anyone can do it, he can. And his fans deserve to be featured, to be honest – they’re the ones who step up and keep him going when things get rough financially. Bach has managed to keep this train rolling since 2016, so I’m pretty confident he will iron out the kinks with each new installment.

But to make it work during COVID-19 time, this film is mostly just interviews – of different clients, and of Tom himself. Then we have Jackson occasionally popping in to stare into the camera and relay information, so overall, yeah – there’s a lot of scenes of people just talking into a camera in this one. The stories they all relay revolves around the idea that while Tom thinks he’s a kick-ass ghost hunter and has cleared the spaces of his clients to their satisfaction, his clients have quite a different perspective. Tom either failed to fix the problem, made the problem worse, or in some cases destroyed people’s property in the process. Some of the stories clients tell could have been their own movies, and in fact this kind of feels like a bunch of Bach’s ideas that never fleshed out into full-blown films.

One of the strangest things about this installment is how stiff Tom is in front of the camera for most of the runtime. He clearly had very specific things he wanted to say about each experience that he relays to the camera, and his interviews have the quality of being recited rather than spontaneously discussed with an interviewer. It’s unusual for Bach, who was definitely funnier and more spontaneous in Pandemic as he reacted to the situations people were sending him via video.

Things continue along in this vein until about the one-hour mark (!), when Jackson speaks to Tom directly via a psychic with a crystal ball. Sure enough, he is in Hell, and has taken to calling Satan Glenn just to piss him off. Heh. As soon as Tom Riley is back to wisecracking and done with reciting stories, the energy picks up tremendously, especially as we watch Jackson track down Tom’s lost grimoire (it was stolen by Bad Ben when he ticked Tom off and he threw it at the creature) and use it to bring Tom back to life. And back to life Tom is, about seven minutes before the end of the film. Unfortunately, almost as soon as Tom is brought back to life zombies come stumbling out of the woods, and Jackson and Tom take off. End of movie.

This leads us to Undead, taking place right where Eulogy stopped. Now that Nigel Bach is back to telling one cohesive story, Undead is all wise-cracking Tom, all the time. It starts out a little slow, as we get a fair amount of Jackson and Tom just running around trying to avoid the zombies and figure out what the hell is going on. This is all shot outside near Steelmanville Road, but not at the house, since at the end of Benign it was revealed to have a new owner. Bach, ever the master of the do-it-yourself horror film, does a good job compensating for the fact that there’s traffic driving up and down all the roads they travel as they try to get back to Jackson’s studio – “Are we the only ones who know what’s going on?” they keep asking themselves, which is a simple but clever move – I can’t tell you how many low budget horror films have neglected to acknowledge the normal daily traffic zooming around in what’s supposed to be the apocalypse. Nigel Bach can’t stop the traffic, but he will sure as hell quip about it. And quip he does. It’s all quite meta.

It takes about 20 minutes of wandering around outside and filming themselves talking about what might be going on before they make their way into Jackson’s studio, and Tom’s quips aside it’s a bit of a slow start. Still, there are some good bits in here, such as when Tom calls the cops and tries to tell them they’re being attacked by zombies, but they hang up on him. Jackson rightly points out that he shouldn’t be talking zombies with the police – just say we’re being chased by something else, he suggests, otherwise, they won’t take him seriously – so Tom calls the cops back and quips: “Hello police? We’ve got hummingbirds!” For some reason, this really cracks me up. They also find an abandoned campsite with a severed hand, and a note inside a backpack from the victim’s wife, telling whoever this poor dead dude is not to wear his earbuds too much and to have a good time. “Well, he’s not listening to his earbuds anymore,” Tom tells the camera, then looks at the severed hand. “Or his wedding ring, apparently.”

Things kick in soon enough, once the guys change clothes and pick up Jackson’s assistant, Mitch. They stumble into a zoo, of all places, and film different animals until a zombie pops up in one of the cages. It’s odd, but clearly, Bach got permission to film inside a zoo and was not going to pass that up. Either that, or they snuck into a zoo and were determined to shoot as much footage as they could while they were there. Either way, the zombie in the cage is a pretty good scare, as is the moment when several zombies are shuffling towards them and Tom says, “They’re slow-moving…that’s the good thing,” and a VERY fast-moving zombie bursts out from behind the shufflers to attack the camera. Heh.

They make it out of the zoo and walk right into a cemetery, where Tom gets the brilliant idea to dig up a body and try to “test” what’s up with the wandering undead situation. Jackson is, obviously, against this idea, and when Tom asks Mitch what he thinks, the face Jackson gives him to encourage him to back up his assessment that this is a bad idea is pretty funny:

So yeah, Mitch agrees with Jackson.

Soon enough, another zombie attack sends them on their way without any graverobbing, and then they’re resting in the woods after giving it the slip while Mitch takes a shit in the woods. Hey, I’m just telling you what the movie says, don’t blame me. Anyway it’s here that we get our first big chunk of contributor shoutouts, in the form of social media comments that get posted as Jackson updates his podcast. They read the names first, then the comments, which are mostly insults aimed at Tom, although a few attack Jackson also. Once that’s out of the way, Mitch reappears and off they go again. I can’t help but notice that Mitch is wearing some seriously weird pants – are they cropped? Super long shorts? Capris? I cannot say.

Another zombie comes along, and Tom, true to form, is tired of running. He fights the zombie instead, and after he throws it to the ground Jackson puts a go-pro on its head. They send him on his way, content that they can track its progress in the hopes it leads them to some sort of clues. Tom is chafing and wishes he had baby powder. Heh. Mitch says he might know someone who can help them, and sends a text to his ex-girlfriend. She doesn’t text him back – instead, she poofs into the forest in a puff of smoke. Turns out it’s the witch from Haunted Highway who cut off a dude’s head then carried it into Tom’s Drop-U-Off ride. And what do you know – the headless dude was Mitch. He was into that sort of thing for a while, but he got over it. She doesn’t understand why he ghosted her, because she did reattach his head and everything. And she’s wearing the same style of baggy ankle pants as Mitch, so I feel like they’d make a cute couple. Anyway, the witch has some info for the group – she knows that all the zombies are “fresh kills,” in other words, people who died recently. It’s not much of a clue, but it’s something, and after she eliminates two zombies by throwing fireballs at them, she promises to get back to them with more information and poofs away.

We are now exactly halfway through the movie, and here comes the hard part. The guys find an abandoned laptop and sit down on some tree stumps to have a look. There’s a video file on it showing a burly man named Tony Ponzetti, who works at that cemetery, and he’s discovered some strange things going on with the dead bodies, and he’s going to talk about them. He proceeds to show a grave, then a photo of that same grave all dug up and empty. Then he tells the story about whose body was in the grave and how they died. Then he shows security footage of that body zombie-stomping through the cemetery late at night. Yep, you guessed it – this is Nigel Bach’s next contributor dump, and it’s LONG. The stories are funny, of course, and I’m sure if one of them were about me I’d love it. But I’m not one of them, and in spite of the humor and the clever device Bach has come up with here to include his donors, it slows the movie to a zombie-like crawl – especially since it goes on for 18 minutes. Still, a Wiccan who died while trying to sacrifice a black virgin goat and a woman who was killed by a street sweeper while she tried to retrieve a winning lottery ticket from a storm drain are amusing anecdotes; I just wish there had been more variety in the way these deaths were presented.

Finally, Tony concludes his video by saying that the people who’ve risen from the dead all died within the last 12 months, adding some specificity to what the witch told them earlier about the fresh kills. Before they have too much time to ponder this, a zombie sneaks up on them out of the woods and they scatter. Tom falls into the campfire, which leads to him having to don a borrowed pastel peach half-shirt from this point forward. Hehe. Tom explains that his body didn’t burn because he spent twelve months in hell so he can’t be burned. This triggers a thought for Jackson, who concludes that the spell he cast to bring Tom back to life in Eulogy must have brought every dead body that was twelve months old or less back to life as well.

The gang decides they’re hungry, so they walk back into town and find an abandoned restaurant. Inside, Tom finds some tarot cards, and tries to use them to get a clue about how they should proceed. But as soon as he lays out the cards, he starts talking in these strange tongues, that are basically just Tom’s voice slowed down while he speaks gibberish. It’s still pretty funny. As soon as he puts up the cards he can use his own voice again, and he relays that the cards sent him a message that he can’t trust someone around him. Both Jackson and Mitch swear that they’re trustworthy, and Tom seems to believe them. In another callback to Haunted Highway, the guys call Drop U Off to get a ride back to the house on Steelmanville Road, where they think the grimoire must be.

Once the guys are back at the house, we cut between footage of them looking for the grimoire in the dark, and scenes of the zombie with the go-pro on its head meeting up with other zombies as they wander through the woods. Eventually, Go Pro Zombie and all of his companions meet up with Mitch’s witch – the one who promised Tom she’d return with more information for him – and she tells them all it’s time to destroy Tom Riley. So she was the person he couldn’t trust.

As the zombies draw nearer, the three retreat to Tom’s shed to hide. Mitch mentions he needs to go #2 again, and Tom and Jackson complain about him trying to do so inside the shed. Mitch tells them it’s OK because he found an old book he’s going to use to wipe with, and of course it’s the grimoire. Hehe. The grimoire tells them that if they say the same spell Jackson cast to bring Tom back to life into the mirror, it will be reversed, stopping the zombies in their tracks. Unfortunately, it may kill Tom as well, but it’s a risk they have to take. Jackson reads the spell into the mirror, and all the zombies disappear. Suddenly, Tom groans and grabs his chest, falling to the ground. Jackson and Mitch are upset, but Tom soon pops up on his own, claiming he has a fainting goat disease. Heh.

They exit the shed and encounter the witch, who intends to kill Tom herself since he defeated her zombies. But Mitch offers to let her kill him instead if she will leave Tom alone, so she slashes off his head and disappears in a puff of smoke as Mitch’s headless body falls to the ground. Knowing that the last time the witch cut off Mitch’s head she eventually re-attached it, neither Jackson nor Tom are too concerned; in fact, they’re thrilled to have defeated the zombies and the witch on their own. “Is there anything I can’t conquer?” Tom boasts to Jackson. He’s faced everything at this point and always won, he says – well, except for aliens. And it’s at this point that a light shines down on them from above and zaps them into the sky. And just like that the next installment is up – Tom versus the aliens.

I have not had a chance yet to view Bad Ben: Alien Agenda, but when I do, you’ll most likely hear about it.

Heavy Rotation Horror: Suspiria (2018)

Anyone who attempted to re-make a beloved horror classic like Dario Argento’s 1977 original was bound to catch shit for taking it on (while I like the original, it never left a big impression on me; I much prefer the second film in his Three Mothers trilogy, Inferno) but Luca Guadagnino just said fuck it and re-worked the entire concept, keeping the barest of the original’s structure (a new girl moves to Berlin to join a dance company secretly run by witches) and pretty much telling a completely different story from there. To be honest, there’s not even much use in comparing the two, as the setup of the original Suspiria serves as inspiration for Guadagnino’s film, but nothing more.

If you can get past making comparisons or if you aren’t overly committed to the original, I think Suspiria is a breathtaking, enthralling film. Not everything works (dividing the movie into “acts” as if we are watching a theatre or dance performance is overly pretentious, and weaving in the sub-plot of Dr. Klemperer and his Holocaust-based trauma, as well as the 1977 hijacking of Lufthansa Flight 181 during the German Spring, weigh the film down unnecessarily) and many positive reviews mention how the movie baffles on first viewing but comes together after a second – which was my experience also. I was left feeling disappointed after the first watch, primarily by the third act, which came off as too much of a shift tonally, as well as awkward and unsatisfying. But there was so much going on in the first two acts that I loved that I was willing to give it a second try, where, sure enough, it all come together better – even though I still felt (and still feel) like the script bit off more than it needed to chew.

One of my main reasons for coming to love this film is how integral the element of dance is to the story. In the original, the ballet studio is a backdrop, a way to collect the witches together and get Susie, the protagonist, into the mix. In fact, that Susie is taken ill right away when she arrives, without performing much more than a few pirouettes before she gets hurried away to her room to recover. Not so 2018 Suspiria, where Susie Bannion (played by Dakota Johnson) performs an impressive audition and executes a stunning, impromptu lead performance that also serves to witchily punish a wayward company member in the movie’s most grisly, yet strangely gorgeous, body-horror scene before she needs to be carted away to recuperate. The movie has several extended dance sequences, including a full performance of the piece the company has been working on throughout the duration of the film, and a macabre performance during the gory, over-the-top climactic ritual. This is modern dance, powerful, primal, and purely female, as opposed to the traditional ballet of the original.

Femininity is central to this Suspiria. The dance company is entirely female, as is the staff who oversee the performances and living arrangements, which are dormitory-style. The only man with any presence in the story is Dr. Klemperer, who gets involved in the witchy dealings when one of his clients, a dancer for the company who has become convinced it’s run by witches who are trying to take over her body, disappears. But even Klemperer has a feminine twist up his tweedy sleeve – it’s actress Tilda Swinton in heavy disguise. Swinton is, as usual, rock-solid in this film in every form she takes. She plays Madame Blanc, the lead choreographer, artistic genius, and primary contact with the young dancers, as well Klemperer and, in the insane ritual scene, the diseased, grotesque Mother Markus, the company’s namesake. The first time I watched this, I knew something odd was up with Dr. Klemperer – he had the weirdest voice I’d ever heard – so I wasn’t totally surprised to find out Tilda played him. In fact, knowing it’s Tilda in male drag made me appreciate the character much more, because the director said he made that choice to keep the energy of the set entirely female, even with a male character in the mix.

The same person. Yep.

But just because the environment is entirely female doesn’t mean it’s free from struggles for power and control. While the dancers who live there feel like family, and Susie is welcomed with surprisingly open arms by all of the girls as well as the staff, there’s something off about this place from the start. There’s the sudden overnight exit of Patricia, Dr. Klemperer’s patient, whose room Susie will be taking; the nightmares Susie has each night, as well as the admission from the other dancers that they too had terrible dreams when first joining the company; and there’s the outburst from Patricia’s friend, Olga, who basically calls the dance instructors witches to their faces.

Patricia. Don’t get too attached to her.

There’s also the odd bond Susie has with Madame Blanc, who is not the founder of the dance studio but appears to be its heart. While it seems clear Blanc sees herself in Susie – who manages to gain acceptance to the company when they are not holding auditions, and who manages to take over Patricia’s lead role in the piece the company is rehearsing when no other girl is able to do it – she also appears pained by Susie’s rapid ascendence to principal dancer in a way that suggests something darker is afoot here.

What that something is seems evident from the start – before she disappeared, Patricia confided to Dr. Klemperer that the dance company had something more nefarious going on underneath the surface, that she believed Mother Markos was trying to get inside of her. Patricia’s name comes up regularly among the women who run the company, with intimations that some ritual they included her in went awry, and it’s not a stretch to conclude that the ritual they discuss is, in fact, one that will project Mother Markos – the founder of the dance company – into another body, just as Patricia feared. It’s also not a stretch to conclude that Susie’s incredible instinct as a dancer as well as her innate ability to conjure up some seriously dark magic – although the extent to which Susie is aware of how the movements of her body are used by the coven to exact harsh punishment on Patricia’s friend Olga remains unclear- makes her the ideal candidate.

Olga. Don’t get too attached to her.

One of the elements that is interesting to watch during the film’s long runtime is the role-switching Madame Blanc and Susie engage in throughout. At times, Susie is, as one would expect, the ingenue who needs the guidance of Blanc’s fierce creativity and drive; while at others, Blanc wavers in her resolve to do as has been dictated by the coven, based on her affection for Susie; at such times Susie is the one whose confidence and surety reassure the Madame that everything is going to be all right. Of course, the audience knows, or thinks it knows, that Susie keeps saying this out of ignorance; surely she has no idea what the company really has in store for her, and is merely comforting Madame Blanc over what she thinks is the choreographer’s uncertainty about her ability to meet the demands of a principal dancer in what is undeniably a difficult piece.

And yet…there’s something unnerving about Susie’s calm, quietly assured manner throughout her time with the dance company. Through flashbacks and a conversation with Blanc, we learn that she ran away from her Mennonite family in Ohio, where she was homeschooled by a mother who despised her and considered her to be something more than a disobedient child; on her deathbed (she has slowly been dying of cancer throughout the course of the film) she refers to Susie as “my sin I smeared on the world.” We get no further information about that, but the mother motif connects Susie’s mother to Mother Markos of the dance company. While Markos refers to herself as Mother Suspiriorum (the Mother of Sighs), both Markos and Susie’s mother can be heard at different moments breathing heavily, as if sighing in pain and anguish – Markos’s pain at having to live in an ancient, diseased body, and Susie’s mother’s pain enduring the end of her relatively young life in a body riddled by cancer. There’s more sighing afoot throughout the film – when the dance company performs, the girls all breathe and sigh heavily, almost in unison, and Susie’s breathing is dominant in her audition, which seems to draw Madame Blanc from the rehearsal room into the tiny studio where Susie is performing.

There are other sounds that recur as audible motifs throughout the film: the haunting sound of the music composition rewinding in the studio echoes the sound of Dr. Klemperer’s recordings of Patricia’s therapy sessions being rewound. The dancers, as well as the staff, often burst into laughter at the oddest moments, and for no apparent reason – when Olga calls the women who run the company witches, several of the women burst out laughing; gaggles of girls whisper and giggle together in corners, and there are several times throughout the film where one character or another simply bursts into laughter as they leave a room, again, for no apparent reason we can ascertain. I’ve given this element of the film a lot of thought over the years, and I think I finally came up with an explanation for it that I’m satisfied with: I think this constant giggling and whispering on the part of the young girls and the older women represents the mystical, unique bond they share as a functioning unit. Most of the time, this laughter comes off as if the amused are sharing a secret, one we are never privy to but that seems to be held by everyone in the company. Susie, however, seems removed from this gossipy giggling – not engaging with it, but not bothered by it either. From the moment she arrives at the company, Susie manages to both fit in and stay distant at the same time.

Much like Madame Blanc, who has challenged Mother Markos for control of the company, and is therefore at a remove from the other staff. Early on in the movie, we witness a vote being taken, although it is done entirely through telepathy, with the women moving about the building’s kitchen, preparing breakfast for their morning meal while their voices call out for either Markos or Blanc. It’s Markos who wins, which means another dancer’s body must be prepared for her to use as her own; it’s unclear how long she’s been existing in her current one, but when she appears in the movie’s climactic scene it’s clear there’s nothing left of it but tumors and rot. Madame Blanc rightly points out that if Markos really was who she claims to be – one of the Three Mothers, ancient witches who rule different parts of the globe – there would be no need to keep channeling her spirit into different dancers, but once the tally is taken, Blanc is forced to go along. As much as she dislikes the idea, she must choose another dancer for Mother Markos to use.

It’s this tension that propels the film forward as the company rehearses for their final performance of Blanc’s celebrated piece “Volk” (“folk”). We know that by volunteering herself to dance Patricia’s lead, Susie has unwittingly offered herself up as some sort of sacrifice for Mother Markos; we also know that Madame Blanc is increasingly unhappy about this but is either unable or unwilling to stop it from happening. In one scene near the climax of the film, Blanc visits Susie in her room at night, communicating with her telepathically that she wants to explain to Susie what she’s gotten herself into, but feels that she can’t – we can assume that is because of her loyalty to the coven, but it’s also clear that Blanc is out of her element with the whole situation; she knows what’s happening feels wrong, but the idea that it’s simply because she cares for Susie doesn’t quite explain her unease. It’s another situation where Susie takes on the mothering role, reassuring Blanc that everything is fine and there’s no need to worry. But does Susie really know what the company has in store for her? She never says anything to indicate that she does; she just exudes this confident certainty that reveals her willingness to accept whatever fate awaits her. She is truly Not Bothered.


There are other characters here who factor greatly into the overall story; Mia Goth plays Sarah, the dancer who befriends Susie the day she arrives at the company. Sarah was also good friends with Patricia, and her worry over her disappearance propels her into the heart of the darkness that lies beneath the dance troupe’s surface. She tries to track Patricia down at the same time Dr. Klemperer, Patricia’s therapist, is also trying to find her; once the two meet and compare notes Patricia’s disappearance becomes more ominous. Sarah takes to sneaking around the building at night, looking for clues, which leads her to the home of the coven hidden underground, beneath the studio. She has to sneak away quickly in order to remain undetected, but Sarah sees enough to convince herself that Olga wasn’t playing when she called Madame Blanc and the others witches.

So Sarah becomes the second person to be concerned about Susie’s position in the company. She begins to connect Patricia’s experiences as the principal dancer to Susie’s – the way Blanc seemed to groom her for something beyond a dance performance, the way Patricia’s dancing seemed to improve magically and exponentially once Blanc’s attention shone down on her, and of course, the way Patricia, in the end, disappeared without a trace. She fears the same for Susie, but when approached Susie replies with the same sense of calm and confidence that she shows Madame Blanc. She’s not worried about anything, and she knows it’s all going to be fine. Sarah disagrees.

As it turns out, “Volk,” the dance the troupe has been rehearsing, is much more than a complex and beautiful performance piece. It’s a ritual that will cast Susie’s soul out of her body and replace it with that of Mother Markos, who is literally rotting under the floorboards of the studio. All Susie has to do is lead the troupe through the moves as choreographed, and Mama Markos is good to go. But Susie has other ideas. She argues against some of Blanc’s moves, arguing that she should stay grounded, closer to the floor instead of leaping into the air as early on in the performance as Blanc has staged it. Won’t it make the leaps more effective if they come later in the piece? she asks, leading Blanc to criticize her lack of understanding about the conditions under which the piece was originally created. It was written at a time when Germany wanted women to submit to their men, shut their mouths, create good German babies, and support the war. Leaving the earthly plane of an oppressive reality and leaping into the ether was a necessity back then, for women, to survive. We need to get you into the air, Blanc says, but Susie’s not convinced. The war is over, and the company is living in the past. Susie’s pushback against Blanc’s signature piece reveals another division within the company: those who are still stuck in the past, and those who want to move forward. Susie doesn’t feel the need to escape from the world or leap into some other, ethereal realm; she wants to stay grounded in the world as is.

Blanc, of course, also represents this division as the person who challenges Markos’s authority, as are those who vote for her over the decrepit MM (which is its own representation of a past that has hung around too long). But the strength of these women – or witches, let’s just say it – falters as soon as their challenge is defeated. They’re too loyal, too connected to the history of the coven to break free of it and forge a new direction. There are hints of it, such as when Blanc starts choreographing a new piece for the company, but even then, she allows Susie to improvise her part rather than directing her movements. It’s possible the company cannot move forward without Susie, that Blanc needs her to help guide them in a new direction, but as the audience knows, the presence of Markos makes this impossible. As long as she is in the picture, Susie’s doomed, and the company appears destined to stay stuck in the past.

Mama Markos. There’s no doubt Susie’s body would be an improvement.

Cut to the day of the “Volk” performance. Susie preps with a seriousness and calm which indicates she knows something’s at stake, but how much she knows is still a mystery. It’s hard to believe she would actually be okay with having her soul cast out of her body, but it’s clear her instincts are elsewhere, and she’s too opaque to decipher at this point. Unfortunately, Sarah has decided to take advantage of the company’s distraction with the show to go back into the depths of the building and try to find Patricia, whom she is convinced is being held captive somewhere down below. When it’s time for the show to go on, Sarah is nowhere to be found – something Susie definitely makes note of – but go on the show must, and the dancers take the stage without her.

Sarah probably would have been better off sticking with the performance, though – she finds Patricia all right, but she’s zombified in some state of undead, suspended animation. She tells Sarah that Mama Markos visits her every night, feeding off of her energy (and quite possibly her body; it’s unclear), and soon other bodies in various states of decomposition and mutilation start to crawl out of the shadows, calling Sarah’s name, begging for help. It’s pretty awful.

Sarah really struggled at first to believe that such a warm, loving place that has always felt like family to her could really be this horrid under the surface. It’s a struggle I experience when watching the movie, too. There’s no doubt that Blanc is a loving presence who cares for the girls (to a point, at least) and that the dancers themselves are a tight unit. The way they welcome Susie with open arms reinforces the impression of the company as a safe, supportive space for women, just as one of the matrons tells Susie once she’s accepted. It’s this warmth and welcoming that makes what’s later revealed feel like such a deep, disappointing betrayal; on the surface, this appears to be the perfect nurturing environment for these talented young women, and many of the matrons themselves are conflicted by their desire to provide that for them, but they’re unwilling to challenge the power structure that has protected them for so long, and ultimately they all choose their own security over that of the girls in their charge. It’s…the wrong decision.

Take Sarah, for example. She is kind, and caring, and she loves the dance company like her own family. But her foray into the bowels of the building crosses a line, and she must be punished. It’s significant that Blanc is the one to mete out the punishment here – as Markos’s former challenger, she’s the one most likely to protect Sarah over the coven’s secrets. But she does not. Even Blanc bows to the perceived power of old MM in the end, and she orchestrates the same sort of grisly fate for Sarah that the other undead bodies in the basement have endured. So long, Sarah. We barely knew ya.

But not before they send her zombified body back to the dance floor to complete the ritual. Every dancer must be present and perform their part if the ritual is going to work, and once Sarah returns it’s Susie’s turn to recognize that something is not right. What she knows is unclear – but everyone can see that Sarah’s not okay. Susie throws the performance off by improvising instead of sticking to the steps, which breaks the spell, and Sarah suddenly falls to the floor, screaming in pain. The matrons rush forward to carry her off (So long, Sarah. We barely knew ya) and bring up the lights. Ritual interrupted. Performance over.

Blanc tries to chastise Susie for breaking the spell, but what she really wants to do is prepare her for what’s coming. She wants to tell her everything, but she feels like it would be wrong. Susie comforts her, tells her she knows Blanc loves her, but the conversation ends on an ominous note: Why is everyone so quick to assume that the worst is over? Susie posits to Mme Blanc. It’s unclear who she’s talking about, unclear which one of them is making this incorrect assumption, but Susie’s not yet confident enough to express her own thoughts without looking to Blanc for validation. It’s all a mess, isn’t it? she asks Blanc. The world out there, the world in here. She’s right, of course, but Blanc is unwilling to spill the dancing beans. The most she can do is ensure Susie a night of sleep unbroken by disturbing dreams.

I’m not getting into the dreams here. Maybe I’ll do it in another post.

So OK, things are about to go off the rails, and keep in mind there’s a lot I’m not digging into here. I’ve barely mentioned the plight of Dr. Klemperer – and honestly did anybody miss him? – but he’s been searching for Patricia ever since her disappearance, to the point of contacting the police. The witches know he’s the one who’s tipped off the cops, and even though they pose no threat as the matrons simply cast a spell on them and send them away, they decide to up the stakes of the next ritual by including “a witness.” They have an idea that this will help seal the deal and make for a smooth transition from Markos to Susie – as if punishing the outside world for intruding will help. It won’t.

Turns out the girls are going to have to perform “Volk” again, and soon, because Mama M can’t wait much longer for a new body. The old one is looking ROUGH, y’all. So, the witches enchant the dancers at night, bringing them into the secret chambers of their coven where they will perform again while under their spell. The lack of a costume isn’t the only thing different about this performance; it’s decidedly more wild and animalistic in nature, and it indicates the level of desperation Markos has sunk to at this point. She needs this shit to go down, pronto.

One dancer has not been summoned though: Susie is still upstairs in her room. She dresses for the ceremony with intention and makes her way down the stairs into the chamber on her own – again, it’s as if she knows what’s coming, and she’s okay with it. Once she enters the chamber, though, the color palette of the film makes an immediate shift: everything, and everyone, is now bathed in a deep red the color of blood, and it will stay that way for the duration of the ceremony. I think it’s a nod to the garish colors of the original since elsewhere the film remains awash in muted, earthy tones.

Blanc is there, also swathed in red, and Mama Markos looks like the world’s biggest molehill with eyes. Blanc stops Susie as she enters the room, and implores Markos to wait. Something’s wrong, she says to MM, can’t you feel it? But at this point, Markos can’t feel anything except her own bones disintegrating, because faster than you can say “Volk” she’s hit Blanc with some kind of magic that almost decapitates her. Blood spurts everywhere. Consider that a preview, because something’s going on with Susie while Blanc’s being relieved of her head.

She’s standing at the top of the stairs, breathing heavily but peacefully. Actually, she’s not just breathing – she’s sighing. Slowly, in an extended moment of utter weirdness, she reaches down and digs into her own chest, prying it open to reveal – a mouth? A vagina? It’s unclear to me what it is, but it ain’t normal, and it seems clear that Susie is the real Mother of Sighs reborn, which portends dark things for the fake Mama who’s sitting in the corner. Sure enough, a literal manifestation of death emerges from some even deeper space within the chamber, like some grisly familiar of Susie’s, and proceeds to blow the heads off every matron who supported Markos instead of Blanc. Unfortunately, Blanc’s head is hanging on like the tip of a Pez dispenser at this point, so she’s far from spared.

According to the credits, the woman who played Susie’s Mennonite mother also plays Death here, which seems significant but I’m not gonna get into it because I’ve already gone on way too long.

Still bathed in red light, along with a LOT of blood, Susie makes her way down into the chamber where all the enchanted girls are still dancing feverishly. Sarah, Patricia, and the other sacrificed girls have been brought into the room, and Susie approaches each one, asking them what they want from her. One by one they all ask to die, which, I get it, but since she’s asking, why not ask to be brought back to life with an undamaged body? I guess that’s not an option, and Susie asking them what they want is just a formality. She takes particular care with Sarah, embracing her gently as she releases her to death. Susie then instructs the rest of the girls to keep dancing, as she finds them beautiful. It would appear that, as Mother Suspiriorum, Susie may just be a different kind of witch.

Mme Blanc. Don’t get too attached to her.

With the phony Mother disposed of, as well as her supporters, there’s not much more for Susie/MotherSuspiriorum to do but clean up – literally and figuratively. She leaves the actual cleanup of the disastrously bloody chamber to the matrons who were spared – Susie may have allowed them to live, but she hasn’t completely forgiven them their transgressions, either. After all, they all played a part in the deaths of Patricia, Olga, and Sarah, as well as who even knows how many others, so they’re not out of the cauldron yet. In fact, as they clean up the muck, one of them discovers that Mme Blanc, while almost completely decapitated, is still alive – just like the other dancers were after rituals that went awry. I guess it’s Blanc’s turn to rot away in the basement in a state of mutilation, while Susie does what with her, exactly? Who knows. It would seem she’s kept her in this state for a reason, but it’s also possible it’s some punishment exacted on her by Markos’s magic that can’t be undone.

The dancers, for their part, have no recollection of what happened the night before, so imagine their shock when they are told that Mme Blanc has left the company. One of the surviving matrons tells them this, not Susie, and it’s unclear how the troupe will function moving forward. There’s no doubt that losing Blanc is a huge loss, as she was the heart of the company, but we’ve already heard Susie say she wants to be the company’s hands, so my guess is she will guide them well. And as we’ve already seen, there’s a good chance she won’t be making the same mistakes – indeed, since she is the real Mother of Sighs, there will be no need for more dancer sacrifice. So alls well that ends well, I guess.

There’s also Klemperer to deal with – the psychiatrist who was forced to be a “witness” to all that madness in the blood-red chamber. He’s had one hell of a shock as you can imagine, so the final scene shows Susie, now fully grown into her role as Mother, visiting him at his home. She apologizes for what he was forced to watch – she was not yet in a position to control what happened in the coven, and she could not prevent it. As a sort of backhanded gift to him, she waves her hand over his eyes and erases not just all memory of that horrible night, but his memory of all the women he’s ever known, including his long-dead wife whose disappearance during the war he still mourns. We need guilt, doctor, she tells him, and shame. But not yours. Susie’s right about the dance company – a little guilt and shame would have prevented the coven from sacrificing their dancers and being misled by a phony Mother, lessons it appears Susie has learned and intends to correct. But the company is still an insular world by necessity, so Klemperer’s memories of it have got to go. And while she’s at it, Susie removes his memories of his lost wife too – dude’s been through a lot between losing his wife, searching for Patricia, and then watching a witchy ritual gone bloodily awry, so Susie clears the slate and moves on. Like everything else, there are two sides to this action – sure, he no longer will suffer painful memories from his past, but he won’t recall the good ones, either. There’s always a price, after all, and Susie will still have to make hard choices to keep the coven alive, but as long as she stays grounded (as she wanted to do with “Volk”) there’s hope that she can lead without causing too much damage.

But wait – as if there wasn’t enough packed into the movie’s three-hour runtime, we get a post-credits snippet showing Susie outside, in the bitter cold of a dark night. All we see is a tight shot of her face as she reaches out with one hand to do – something we don’t see. She reveals the slightest hint of a sly smile, before glancing to her right, looking back at whatever she’s just touched again, and then walking away. There’s no clear explanation out there as to what this means, but I like to think it’s Susie locking the doors of the dance company building one final time. With Blanc gone, and Susie’s desire to move the company forward, it would make sense for them to move elsewhere and start afresh. That may be more hopeful than other interpretations, but personally I like to think that the superficial warmth and kindness of the coven’s previous existence could be manifested in a more honest and real way. It also hints at sequels, something the director discussed when the film came out, but not having heard anything about that since 2018 doesn’t bode well, so for now my interpretation will have to do. Or come up with your own – after all, I’m not your Mother.

So long, Susie – the Mother we never had.

Found Footage Flail: Real Cases of Shadow People, The Sarah McCormick Story

What’s the horror: shadow people, or ghosts, that hang around in dark corners and scare people silly while stalking them

Does the dog die? No animal cruelty

Gore factor: None

Re-watch scale: Only when I want to torment myself, or someone else

Honestly, reading this fake news report is way more exciting than watching the movie

I don’t normally write analyses of movies that I dislike, but this one is SO SPECTACULARLY BAD it deserves some mudslinging. I normally appreciate even the worst found footage for the effort involved, but this one is so bad it’s downright offensive, and there isn’t one redeeming character in the mix. It is INSANELY awful. Let’s dig in.

Things start off normally enough – we get a few talking heads of people who’ve seen and suffered with the shadow people phenomenon, then cut to a TV news report about the disappearance of three student filmmakers, one of whom is Sarah McCormick. Why the case is consistently called the “McCormick case” when there are also two missing young men is a bit of a mystery, and until we realize this is without a doubt the most entertaining section of the film we might have questions about this. Trust me, it’s not worth discussing as there’s absolutely no reason for this film to exist at all, so who cares about the details. Moving on.

Once the media reporting section is done, we cut right to the report that footage has been found that might help with the case. Then we cut to a “memory card #1” title, and right to the footage in question. And here, friends, is the opening line of the film, which I think sums up the entire movie nicely:

Indeed, movie. Indeed.

In true form, the individuals involved in filming this documentary start off right away by filming everything that happens as if it would ever be used in a real doc. It wouldn’t. Do we care that Sarah has packed a lot of stuff in her bag? No, we do not. Do we care that Sarah appears to have prepared for being an interviewer not at all? Well yeah, actually we do, and it’s not encouraging to watch her struggle to simply tell who she is and what she and her “crew” (and it’s not encouraging that the videographer of this crew doesn’t know what frame rate to shoot in, and Sarah has no idea what a frame rate even is, and that we’ve already heard 75 fucks and shits when we’re only four minutes and eleven seconds into this ordeal – cursing is the fallback position of any FF film that doesn’t know what else to do with itself, and we’ve already arrived at that milestone) are heading out to shoot. Sarah never does manage to cough and stutter out that they’re going to interview some individuals who claim to be haunted by shadow people, and they end up deciding that it might behoove her to write down what she’s going to say in advance (ya think, movie? YA THINK?).

Strap in folks. This is as good as the dialogue gets.

A few more shots of people cursing and putting bags into a trunk, and we’re off to what will turn out to be the MAJOR SET PIECE of this movie – the car. Folks, approximately 90% of the movie takes place in this vehicle, and at no time does anyone in said car discuss shadow people. No one in this car is haunted by shadow people – at least, not that we know of. No one in this car, at any time, sees a shadow person – at least, not that we get to see. Instead, we get endless stretches of time where these three sing, burp, fart, and convince themselves they’re amusing when mugging for the camera.

We’re six minutes in, people. SIX MINUTES IN.

Once when I was in college, I went with a group of friends to a big old cattle ranch that was owned by the grandfather of one of us, I forget who, I just know it wasn’t me. This was in the nineties, and I brought a huge-ass camcorder with me to record the event for posterity. Did we mug shamelessly for the camera while pretending that was how we acted all the time? Yes, we did. Did we laugh hysterically at every joke told on camera, no matter how dumb it was? Of course we did. Did we record hours upon hours of ourselves walking through forests or riding in trucks, commenting on the cows, the lakes, the grass all around us? Yep. Did we tell tons of private jokes that made no sense to anyone else? You betchya. And did we force others to watch this drivel when we got back home, simply because WE had such a fun time acting like fools that we were convinced anyone who watched that crap would be equally amused? Heck yes we did. The difference is, we didn’t turn that shit into a movie. And these people DID. This is every single person with a camera who ever thought they were so super-entertaining in life that they didn’t need to do anything except turn the fucker on and the world would be amused.

You know what no one has ever said about Real Cases of Shadow People: The Sarah McCormick Story? This.

Sarah doesn’t know how to use her iPhone’s GPS. Hilarious. The driver – I still don’t know his name – explains to Sarah what B-roll is. Hey, guess what B-roll is, Sarah? It’s this movie. Driver makes a joke about being psychologically scarred by the death of his mother. Heh. Little kids losing their parents. Hilarious. It’s not even true, as it turns out – but I would totally believe that the parents of all three of these dipshits went out for milk and cigarettes one day and never came back. Who could blame them? I say let the shadow people have these three.

You know what’s really funny? Beans. And people who eat beans.

You might be forgiven at this point for assuming all this nonsense is just character building, showing the dynamic between the characters before the action kicks in. I assumed that the first time I saw this also, so I wasn’t super-annoyed yet. I mean, we’re only nine minutes in, so spending some time getting to know these people and how they interact with each other isn’t an unexpected development. But we’ve already been made painfully aware that these three aren’t anywhere near as funny as they think they are. And at nine minutes in, we may already be hoping none of them survive, but still. The true horror of this film is not yet evident. And shortly after they film themselves eating beans and corn (with great difficulty, I might add) we get a scene or two that actually tricks us into thinking there is going to be a real movie here, and it’s about to get started.

But first, we have to film Sarah peeing along the side of the road for some reason, when they are clearly in a populated area with an abundance of bathrooms. We listen to Sarah as she sputters out the story of the first person they’re going to interview – y’all! They’re going to do something! – with a man whose daughter disappeared months ago, a man who claims to have seen shadow people right before the disappearance. Okay, this might get good.

But first, we have to film the driver peeing on the side of the road. And Sarah tells us she peed on her sandal. Then the driver says he stepped in Sarah’s pee. Sarah wonders what will happen if an animal comes along and smells her pee. Oh, I say we wait for that to happen, movie. I’d totally watch that.

Oh hey, the driver’s name is Joe.Thanks, movie. This may be the first useful piece of dialogue we’ve gotten so far.

Dude in the back seat wants to sell something he calls “nut art,” because he thinks his ejaculate comes out in pretty cool designs. He’d like to ejaculate onto canvas and sell that shit. Of course he would. And if you’re wondering why I’m subjecting you to this stupid dialogue, well reader, I had to sit through it, twice I might add – so you get to sit through it too. The backseat nut artist makes an incest joke. Classy.

Oh sure, leave the talking to the gal with pee on her sandals.

They’re out of the car! Hooray! It looks like there is going to be an actual interview of an actual person who has something to talk about other than human excretions. But not only did Sarah NOT change shoes, she’s totally dressed for a day at the beach here, which annoys the shit out of me. I mean, can you put on a blouse with a button or something? Would it be so hard to make yourself look somewhat professional for this important interview? Although, interestingly enough, Sarah does a pretty good of convincing the man, who has decided he doesn’t want to talk to them, to let them in for a quick couple of questions. She actually sounds sympathetic to his situation here, and her voice is – dare I say it – calming. This just serves to frustrate me more, since it appears Sarah could have been a much more compelling character, had she anything to do besides laugh at fart jokes. Oh well – this is about all that actually happens in this movie, so let’s pay attention.

Credit where credit is due, Sarah does a good job with this interview. She shows genuine empathy for the father’s plight and appears to be a good listener. She simply lets him tell his story, asking guiding questions as necessary. And his story is compelling, leading me to wonder why the movie had a good idea like this and then whiffed it so completely. Because the story he tells is one I would totally watch. He’d started seeing shadow people right after the birth of his daughter. They were usually around or in her room. They were always in shadow, but they were darker than shadows, more like an absence of all light, and they could still be seen in darkness. He’d turn the light on, however, and they would disappear. Later on, her daughter started talking about seeing these shadow people also, but Dad always pretended that he wasn’t seeing them even though he was – he wanted his daughter to feel safe and protected, and since he had no way to stop these shadow people from lurking about, he didn’t want his daughter to believe they were real. Then one night she came into her parent’s bedroom in the middle of the night, saying she woke up to a bunch of shadow people holding her down in her bed and telling her to go back to sleep and never wake up. They tried to comfort her, she went back to bed, and was gone in the morning. Again, why didn’t we get to see this movie? So much more interesting.

The movie tells us via title card that we’re now on Memory Card #2 and I don’t know why it’s bothering because we then cut to the trio in the car. Again. Sarah does a decent job telling the camera that they are going to interview a woman whose husband disappeared years ago, and again I wonder how much more likeable Sarah would have been if she’d never hooked up with these bozos. But now I understand why the only person the cops ever looked for was Sarah. I mean honestly, would you worry about the disappearance of a guy who thinks this is decent casual conversation?

And by the way, no she didn’t.

Interview #2 is up – the subject this time is Mae Montgomery, who, as Sarah already mentioned, lost her husband years ago when he just up and disappeared. She seems nervous, but much more welcoming and forthcoming than the previous subject, and she appears to really want to tell her story. Sarah is, once again, a good interviewer, asking questions in a gentle voice and expressing sympathy in appropriate places. Oh Sarah, how I wish you had better friends. Mae has some interesting things to say about the shadow people, how they compel people to look at them by feeding off their energy and then refusing to allow them to avert their eyes. It’s an interesting discussion, but it’s also clear the director told the actress to play this all kooky like the woman is some nutjob (not to be confused with nut art, let’s be clear). Which is a shame, because it cheapens all of the interesting things she says. She sees the shadow people as extensions of human beings, their “shadow side” so to speak. She has advice to give, having dealt with seeing them for so long – try not to fear them, as they will feed on it. Remember that if you are seeing a shadow person, they want something from you. And although most of them are evil, there are shadow people that are kind. Then her lamps start flickering, and the trio starts hearing weird labored breathing sounds, although Mae insists she doesn’t hear anything (it’s clear she’s lying because she’s lonely, and doesn’t want the trio to leave), and Sarah flips the fuck OUT.

See that lamp behind Mae? Yeah, it flickered.

I know that a big frustration with horror movies is how dumb the characters are, how instead of doing the logical thing and getting the hell OUT of any situation where lights flicker and growling sounds are heard they stick around out of curiosity. Well folks, Sarah is EXACTLY that person we all claim we’d like to see in a horror film, because she shuts it down and practically sprints out of poor Mae’s house. And guess what – it may be the logical reaction, but it’s boring as hell on film. How could someone so fascinated with shadow people just bolt when there’s evidence occurring right in front of her, while cameras are rolling? This should be exactly what Sarah wants to capture. She should have taken Mae up on her offer to stay and moved the fuck IN. Set up cameras all around the house and waited for the magic to happen. I mean, come ON, Sarah, we all know how this works. But no, Sarah does the smart thing and leaves, and we are terribly disappointed. Because now, we’re back to this:

At least Kyle – oh hey, backseat guy has a name now! – is saying something I can actually agree with.

Yep, we’re back in the car. Sarah is dashing my hopes for her to ever become an investigative reporter when she shows ZERO interest in investigating the very thing she’s supposed to be investigating. You know it’s bad when Backseat Kyle takes a more logical approach to anything than you do.

Oh look, it’s memory card #3, and we’re – in the car again. But this time it’s raining. They’re listening to some random song that must be someone’s cousin’s band because we hear way too much of it, and without dick jokes no less. Then the camera dips into this weird slow motion mode for no reason whatsoever, and then we’re in Georgia and a clock is chiming. And hey look – they’re out of the car! And they’re walking! Backseat Kyle is filming, Sarah is carrying a backpack, and Sloppy Beans has a bug on him. They want to smoke, but no one brought a lighter. They borrow one from a passerby. Sarah is on camera again, explaining that they are going to interview another woman whose daughter disappeared. She is not wearing anywhere near as much makeup as she has been so far, and she looks so much better. Thick blue eyeliner does not a good smoky eye make, Sarah. Keep that in mind for future reference. Oh wait, you don’t have a future because you’re missing.

Backseat Kyle raves about her “fucking fantastic” performance, which is high praise for someone who simply managed to explain what they were about to do without, I don’t know, squirting? Based on their previous conversation on the subject, I take it that the boys don’t like it. And I hate it that I know this. Then we take some time to walk around downtown somewhere in Georgia, because why the hell not? You in a hurry or something? It looks very quaint, wherever it is. Old stone streets that the trio struggles to master. “It’s like hiking,” says Sloppy Beans, and no, it is not. It’s like walking on a stone street, and nothing else. There are bugs, and it is hot. And then…

oh for fuck’s sake

We’re back in the car! Someone found a cheeto that looked like Harambe the gorilla and sold it for $100,000. And it’s hot. Sarah, for no explainable reason, is tired. She wants a nap. Seriously, why? You have done two interviews over the course of I don’t know how many days they’ve been driving now because it HAS to be more than one by now. How could you possibly need a nap, Sarah? Did all that running away from a good story that might have given you actually decent footage tucker you out?

We’re then treated to a time-lapse of the trio pitching a tent, yep, a TENT because apparently we’re going to camp now. Why? This adds nothing to the story of shadow people, but we do get to see Sarah in a bikini which I suspect is the real motive here. She looks good, and we’re treated to audio of Sarah explaining why this documentary means so much to her while she wanders around on the beach. It seems she’s had similar experiences, and that’s why this movie is SO important to her. So important that you bolted at the first evidence of shadow people you caught on film, important like that, Sarah? I can’t help but think this backstory would have been much more effective had we actually watched Sarah talking, but hey, bikini.

We watch Sloppy Beans and Backseat Kyle mug for the camera, and you gotta give it to these two for consistently coming up with unique ways not to be funny. It gets dark. The sunset is impressive. Sloppy Beans plans to imitate an Australian wilderness dude for the entire night. There’s a fire. And a raccoon? It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark. Sarah thinks they got some good footage. Whatever you say, Sarah. I want to like you but you make it hard sometimes. A plane flies overhead. Sloppy Beans entertains himself by repeating the word “Albequerque” over and over again in an Australian accent.

Yes, we’re still doing this. Just wait until he farts in the tent.

Now we’re in the tent, and you guessed it – the conversation is all about farts. Who farted, how they farted, what the fart smells like. Then they discuss each other’s stinky feet. Then Backseat Kyle shushes the other two and says, wait wait wait, did you hear that? And they all fall silent. And just when you think the movie’s gonna go all Blair Witch on you, Kyle farts loudly into the silence. Hilarious. Hey, wanna know what girl farts sound like? Because this movie wants to tell you. And tell you. And tell you.

It’s morning now. Everyone gets up, ready for another busy day of interviewing people who’ve seen shadow folks hanging out on the beach. Backseat Kyle zooms in on Sarah’s rack. It’s pretty good, not gonna lie. Oh Sarah, your rack deserves to get attention from far more decent men than these two. Oh wait – now we’re back in the car again. They’re going to see a Ms. Phillips, whose daughter disappeared quite recently. Turn right here, Sarah tells Sloppy Beans, who promptly turns left. Heh.

The trio gets to the Phillips house, and the aforementioned Ms. beckons them inside. As soon as she points out her little dog and is sure to tell them all that it doesn’t bite and is super-friendly, we are certain that said dog is going to make a meal out of Sloppy Beans. The dog stares into the camera and growls. I’m with you, dog. And also, heh.

Ms. Phillips is eager and outgoing, and ready to tell her story. Backseat Kyle actually does a decent job with the B-roll here, focusing in on little house details that inform us what Ms. Phillip’s life is like – a collection of little wooden angels playing musical instruments, a photo of a volunteer fire department that most likely includes her husband, a wedding picture, and a few of those wooden signs with sayings painted on them in whatever that half-cursive, half-print font is that wooden signs with sayings painted on them always use (I’m assuming the font is called “Hobby Lobby” or “Michael’s”). It looks like a cheery, soccer-mommy kind of place, and Ms. Phillips adds to the warmth with her welcoming personality. Again I am reminded of the ways in which this could have been an interesting documentary. Hey, maybe something else supernatural will happen, and Sarah won’t cut and run this time. But no. Instead, Mr. Phillips shows up, looking a hell of a lot like Wayne Newton, by the way, and he is not down with this interview shit. He chases the kids out of the house.

Yeah, now you know how we feel

They stop at a depressing-looking gas station and complain about bad smells and bugs. Guys, if bad smells and bugs appear everywhere you go, maybe you’re the problem. Just saying. Backseat Kyle entertains himself, and no one else, by performing racist imitations of other nationalities. It’s wildly uncomfortable. Hey Kyle, got any new poop jokes for us instead? For fuck’s sake – now he’s just making gurgling noises for no damn reason while Sarah and Sloppy Beans laugh. There’s no way they actually think this is funny. Or maybe they do, because a plastic bag floats over the car and they lose their shit like it’s the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened.

And now we’re lip-syncing.
Who screws up the lyrics to Row Row Row Your Boat? Jeebus.

Now Sloppy Beans is doing a terrible Redd Foxx imitation. God I wish Redd Foxx were still alive – can you imagine? He would destroy these idiots. He’d slap the Redd Foxx right out of Sloppy Beans’ stupid mouth. Sorry, I just checked the runtime, and we’re only halfway through this mess. It’s the big one, Elizabeth. I’m coming to join you.

Now they’re on the hunt for a random guy who wouldn’t give Sarah much information, not even his real name, but he does have a video he wants to show them. Sounds like a really bad idea, guys, so by all means full steam ahead this shit. They find themselves in a desolated area – old warehouses that are rusted and overgrown with weeds, abandoned cars, et cetera. Maybe, just maybe, this is where something scary actually happens? It’s the right place for it at least – no little wooden Hobby Lobby signs here. It really does look like a location where some spooky stuff could go down. In spite of myself, I feel a bit of anticipation. In the end, all we get is a jump scare by a grouchy old man who suddenly pops into view in Sarah’s passenger-side window. And this dude is pissed. He berates and insults the team, which is pretty enjoyable, I must say, claiming that they don’t know what they’re doing (true) and that others have tried to document shadow people before, and they all end up disappearing (if only). Then he says he has video of something to do with shadow people, but he won’t show it if the camera is running. Kyle does keep it running, but makes zero effort to actually film the video grouchy dude is showing Sarah on his phone. Sarah sees something that makes her react with shock, and cut. Then we’re BACK IN THE CAR.

Dear God, just make it stop

They pull over to pee, and yeah, Backseat Kyle films himself whipping it out. Then we cut to Sarah, who sings a few bars of some bluesy song I don’t know, and she has a really nice voice. I feel bad for this actress for being involved in this mess. She has some talent, but none of that has a chance in this mess of a movie. Not that it matters in the least, but Sloppy Beans, who apparently also saw Grouchy Guy’s video, tells Backseat that it’s security camera footage of a dude walking on some ledge and then getting swallowed up by a shadow and disappearing. Would have been nice to see it, but never mind. Backseat Kyle is too busy doing that found footage thing where one character refuses to believe anything that any other character says about supernatural events. So they bat that around for a while – that didn’t happen. I swear it happened. Come on you’re lying. I’m not lying. etc. etc.

They’re in Tennessee.

THERE ARE STILL FORTY MINUTES LEFT IN THIS FILM, Y’ALL.

They’re back in the car. Now they’re filming a stream. Back in the car again. Now Sarah is walking along the side of the road, filming scenery with her iPhone. Back in the car again. Trees and more trees. This is like some backwater Skinamarink shit now – just images with occasional sounds. And annoying background music. Siri tells them to turn left, then Sarah is standing on a bridge. Is it possible a shadow person is going to snatch her away? Now she’s under the bridge, down by the river. She almost falls. They react as if this is funny, so whatever movie. Back in the car. Then back outside. Jesus, even for this movie this is some seriously confusing footage. Are they literally driving for half a mile and then pulling over only to get back in the car and drive another half mile and pull over again? Because if that’s not what you’re doing, movie, then for fuck’s sake put the driving footage together and the outdoors footage together and stop chopping this shit up. It’s ridiculous. Although I will say this much; I’ve never been to Tennessee, and it does look beautiful.

Well said, Sarah.

More car footage. The car pulls into the parking lot of a restaurant. Then they’re driving again. Then the car pulls into the parking lot of a hotel. Thank god we’re seeing all this parking or we’d never know that they ate dinner or how they got to a hotel! They check into a room. They shower. They review the day’s footage, and no one shows any concern that it’s all garbage, so I call foul. There’s a fly on the wall and no, I do NOT want to be that fly. They sleep. They’re back in the car. Then they’re outside the car loading luggage into the trunk. Wait, what? They already left the hotel, didn’t they? The movie is completely off the rails at this point. No one has the slightest idea what’s happening.

I swear to God, they’re now hiking. They’re hiking. The movie has officially become a travelogue, and a terrible one at that. We get a shot of Sarah peering over a cliff. She looks pretty, but we can clearly see her unfortunate tramp stamp. Goddamnit, Sarah. Make better choices. I want to like you! Now they’re eating again. I’ll spare you the shot of Sloppy Beans opening his mouth while it’s full of food and waggling his tongue at the camera. True to form, we cut from that scene of them eating their food to a scene of them – no lie I swear – STANDING IN LINE TO ORDER THAT FOOD. Who edited this mess? Now they’re touring a cave. There are thirty-three minutes left in this movie. THIRTY-THREE MINUTES. Remember when they were interviewing folks about shadow people? Yeah, those were fun times.

OMG – shadow people! We found them!

Now they’re riding a tram up a mountainside and we’re treated to the recorded tape spewing information for the tourists. Did you know there’s an eight-degree difference between Chattanooga and Lookout Mountain? Or that Lookout Mountain has the steepest railway in the world? Back in the car. Tunnels. More tunnels. I expect the movie at any moment to flash back to the day Sarah was born, but it doesn’t. Bridge. Tunnel. Train. Trees. After all of this Tennessee tourism shit we’ve been watching for twenty minutes, Sarah asks Backseat Kyle if the camera is rolling – come on, Sarah, do you really have to ask the man who filmed himself peeing if he’s rolling? – then she turns to it and says, “We’re in Tennessee right now.” No shit? Wild! I thought they were in a rain forest. Anyway, they are on their way to their last interview. Let’s hope something happens. Or nothing happens. Who cares. Sarah says they’re going to interview a Stephanie Yost and she really thinks it will be an interesting story. Backseat Kyle speaks for all of us at that moment:

MOST of them, though? They’ve filmed two.

The only thing keeping me going at this point is knowing that eventually, they are going to disappear.

Sarah does not take kindly to Kyle’s negativity, and Sloppy Beans chastises him for not being civil (ie, telling the truth). Then Sarah, bless her heart, takes responsibility for the entire, shitty endeavor by blaming herself for being a bad interviewer. This is ridiculous, seeing as she’s been a fine interviewer, aside from being too scared to stick around and film the flickering lights. And honestly none of them have sucked at their jobs – the sound is fine, the camera work is fine. The problem is that they’ve interviewed two people and been iced out by two others, and are instead filming themselves eating and peeing and farting and thinking it’s interesting. Kyle continues to speak truth to power, and as much as I hate to agree with this cretin about anything, he’s totally in the right here. They should have made the most of the interviews they did have, and the fact that they didn’t makes the fact that they’re still pursuing this shitty documentary a moot point. Even if this last interview is any good, it’s not enough to make a documentary out of, and they still don’t have any documented evidence that the phenomenon is real. He really hammers the other two about this, which Sarah again interprets as him being negative, when in reality he’s the only one making any sense. Sarah is far too sensitive to her subjects’ feelings and doesn’t want to push them, and while that’s nice and all, it doesn’t exactly bode well for her journalism career. So preach, Kyle.

Ok, so now we’re in much more familiar found footage territory. Kyle and Sloppy Beans think they’re lost, and Sarah insists they aren’t. Backseat Kyle starts complaining and Sarah starts getting snappy. It may be the first time I’ve ever been happy to see bickering in a found footage movie because at least it means the movie has remembered what it’s supposed to be. Oh hey – they found it! Stephanie Yost’s house is in sight. And ol’ Steffy is standing on her porch with her hands in her pockets, looking all sorts of unhappy. She’ll give the interview, but she’s not letting them in her house. Way to keep your home smelling fresh, Stef.

Turns out Stephanie lost both her sister and her brother to what she believes are shadow people. Man, that’s a hell of a bummer. Soon after the second disappearance, Stephanie and her mom fled the house, and she’s not seen any sinister shadows since. Sarah asks what happened to the house, which seems like a weird question, but it sets up Stephanie to say it’s just a few miles away. Sarah asks if they can go film it, and Stephanie reluctantly agrees, although she doesn’t recommend it and warns them that they shouldn’t go.

We’re one hour and twenty-two minutes in, folks, and we’re entering an abandoned house. I feel like this should have happened about one hour and twenty-one minutes ago, but whatever. They peer in the windows, but it’s too dark to see anything. Sloppy Beans tries the back door (I know that sounds like one of his awful sexual encounter tales, but in this case it’s literal) and eureka! It’s open. Then Sarah inexplicably exclaims that there’s no way they’re actually going inside. What the fuck, Sarah? I still want to like you, but this is ridiculous. First off, I am sure the woman knew you would go inside, why else would you go there? And secondly, what kind of documentary filmmaker are you? Why would you pass up an opportunity to film a creepy, abandoned house where two children were taken by shadow people? What do you need, a written invitation? A cookie? A lot of vocal haranguing by two obnoxious idiots? Oh wait – that’s what she actually gets, and it works. I really hate Sarah for making me agree with Backseat Kyle and Sloppy Beans. Not really, Sarah. Against all logic and reason I still like you. And I would totally respect your desire not to encroach upon the Yost’s privacy if you weren’t making a documentary that needs exactly this type of footage.

Backseat insists they spend the night in the house – which isn’t in nearly bad enough shape to be all that scary, but is definitely in good enough shape for them to sleep there without getting tetanus or something. And as Kyle points out, this is their best shot yet to catch a shadow person on film, seeing as Stephanie was convinced that the house itself had something to do with the supernatural weirdness she experienced as a child – she never saw another shadow person again after they moved out.

Come on, Beans. You have no best judgment.

And oh my god – this movie is FINALLY acting like the movie it’s supposed to be. Backseat is talking about putting security cameras all over the house. Yes! Why did this take so damn long? Stephanie Yost and your creepy, abandoned but still totally livable house, where have you been for the past hour and twenty-eight minutes? Just think gang, something might actually happen now. The last supernatural event we got was back at Mae’s house when the lamps flickered and growled, remember that? Good times. They discuss how there’s no electric or running water, but I’m so happy they’re finally DOING something that I’m not even gonna question how they’re gonna run all these cameras with no power. Or how they’re going to catch anything in the dark. Screw it – I’m taking what I can get.

My god, somebody pinch me, because Kyle is actually acting like someone who knows what he’s doing right now. It’s the first time he’s been even remotely tolerable. He even addresses the no power issue in a fairly plausible way. And thank God, because there are only 14 minutes left in this thing. They’re all very tired, so maybe next time don’t waste a day hiking and exploring caves? Just a thought. Sarah needs to pee. She makes Backseat go with her because she’s scared. He gives her shit because of course he does. While they’re back there, Beans sees something on one of the cameras.

We haven’t heard anything so far about shadow people acting like poltergeists and moving stuff around, but whatever movie. I’ll take what I can get.

And hey, we actually see it this time! One of the stuffed animals sitting on a couch bounces around a bit on its own. Sarah immediately wants to leave because of course she does. But it is pretty creepy to see. Even though they’re trying hard to make it look like it’s night when it’s clearly still daylight outside. Sarah is scared. She feels a presence. It’s clear the guys don’t feel what she is feeling, but you can’t blame them for not wanting to leave after days of getting nothing and finally having captured something, anything, supernatural on camera. Sarah comes clean, admitting to the guys that she did see shadow people when she was a kid, that one was tormenting her father to the point that he shot himself, and that she once woke up with a shadow being hovering over her bed. She’s telling this to explain why she’s so scared, but before the guys can react a clock starts chiming. It’s a clock that was clearly not working before, but now it’s somehow working again. And while this is all kinda fun, typical haunted house stuff, I can’t help but notice how it doesn’t fit with any story of shadow people we’ve heard up to this point. Nothing about things moving around or stuff starting to work or ceasing to work in its presence. So far we’ve only heard about the shadow people being seen and making other people disappear. So, this is all a bit weird as it doesn’t fit the story so far as we know it. It’s as if the director suddenly realized he only had ten minutes to get to the scary part so he just threw every horror trope he could think of into this house, even if it made no sense.

Five minutes left, and a door slams somewhere in the house. Now Beans wants to leave, too, but Backseat is holding out. He heads back into the hallway where they heard the door slamming. We see the camera fall, and just like that, Backseat Kyle is no more. I mean, we had a decent scary moment there, but we definitely did NOT see any shadow people, and the way Kyle got got doesn’t exactly mesh with the other stories we’ve heard so far. But we’ve only got a few minutes left, so we’ll have to take what we can get.

.

I mean, you can kinda see it

It takes about fifteen seconds for Beans to also poof into nothingness. We don’t see anything, he’s just there one minute and gone the next, and Sarah is left alone screaming his name. Now, Sarah has never once been carrying a camera throughout this disaster of a movie, and there’s no logical reason why she would be carrying one now, but a camera whirls around and sees what is almost, kinda sorta, a shadow of some sort, and then she screams and it’s all over. So, okay, I guess. At least Sarah gives us some good screams before she disappears. Wouldn’t you know the one time Beans and Backseat decide to be quiet is the one time it would have been cool to hear their voices?

And that, my friends, is the absolute worst found footage movie I have ever seen. And now you’ve more or less seen it too. You’re welcome.

Found Footage Fave: Lake Mungo (SPOILERS!)

What’s the horror: ghosts

Does the dog die? Nope

Gore factor: None – just a few shots of a drowned body

Re-watch scale: Heavy rotation, in more ways than one

Lake Mungo is my favorite kind of found footage: mockumentary style. It follows The Palmer family – mom June, dad Russell, and brother Matthew – and the bizarre events surrounding the death of the daughter, Alice. The director, Ausstralian Joel Anderson, has not directed another motion picture since this one came out in 2008, and not much at all is known about him as he was hesitant to do interviews when it came out. Perhaps he wanted to keep the mystique of the film alive, who knows, but it’s a shame he hasn’t done anything else as this is one of the most bittersweet and sad mockumentaries I’ve ever seen. There is a lingering sadness to this one that haunts for days – which is part of what’s happening to the Palmers in the film. The extent to which we, as the audience, empathize with this family is intense, at least for those who loved the film. There are those who go into it hearing such fantastic things that they come away disappointed because the horror here is mostly of the human variety – the way the family deals with grief, and the way you can live your whole life with someone and not really know them at all. It’s got its share of creepy moments, and one humdinger of a jump scare, but this is a quiet film that deals with the silence and unanswered questions the living are left with when a loved one dies, especially one as young as Alice.

The actors are very convincing in their roles; I’ve heard it said that their acting is ‘wooden,’ but to me, it’s quite a genuine representation of how a family would act in front of a camera while discussing the death of a loved one. What some people think is wooden acting is, in my humble opinion, exactly the way a family like this would present themselves on camera; they’re keeping it together for the cameras, trying to get Alice’s story out into the world, and they’re going to do their best to stay collected and calm lest the whole thing goes off the rails. The mother and father both come across as smart, stoic, and damaged, but determined, in the end, to move on. The brother does the same, but his way of processing his sister’s death is, well, a bit problematic.

AND HERE COME THE SPOILERS!!

Mom, Alice, and Grandma Palmer

We first get the backstory of what happened to Alice Palmer. News footage tells the tale of the young girl who drowned in a nearby lake (but NOT Lake Mungo; that’s for later) and was found by a rescue team several hours later. The family had been on a day trip to the dam when Matthew decided to return to shore, leaving Alice swimming in the water alone. He reaches the shore, and Alice is nowhere to be seen. Police are called, and when her body is found Dad is called down to identify the body. Mom wasn’t up to seeing her daughter that way, and as Dad admits in his interview, that may have been a mistake.

Alice’s room as it was the night she died

Soon after her death, the family begins to hear strange sounds around the house. A contractor working at the dam where Alice drowned finds a figure in the shadows of one of his photos that looked mysteriously like Alice. Matthew sets up cameras around the house to try and capture what might be going on, and in several shots we see apparitions of Alice, sometimes walking past the camera, and other times hiding in corners of rooms. Things seem to be going down the same path as so many horror movies and mockumentaries that came before, but then – a twist.

A ghostly image of Alice Matthew captures on camera

Another couple discovers footage they took at the dam on the same day as the contractor, and once they realize the coincidence, they go back through their videos of the day to see if they too captured Alice’s likeness on film. And it turns out they did capture a figure in the background, just like the contractor, except from their angle, it’s clear that the figure is not Alice at all – it’s Matthew wearing her jacket.

Matty has some ‘splainin’ to do

It turns out that his mom’s growing conviction and obsession with the idea that the body Russell identified that night was not Alice, and that Alice might still be alive, prompts Matthew to run with the idea in order to convince his father to exhume the body and put his mother’s obsession to rest. At least, that’s why he says he did it. It’s really not clear that Matthew himself really understands what compelled him to pull off such a macabre scam, but it does come across that he did so without malice and was perhaps acting out some sort of desire on his part for his sister to still be alive. For whatever reason he did it, his stunt works – Russell starts to doubt that he did actually see the body of his daughter that night, and he agrees to allow the body to be exhumed and DNA tested. This is where you might expect another twist, but there is none – the body is Alice’s, after all. She’s really, truly gone.

The movie does something clever here; by having Matthew explain to the documentary crew exactly how he pulled off getting those ghostly apparitions of his sister on film, the director is essentially allowing the character to reveal his own secrets. Using old videos of Alice and strategically placing the television playing the footage opposite a mirror or other reflective surface, Matthew has made it appear that Alice’s ghost is haunting the house. It’s a pretty neat trick, and it has the audience looking out for further tricks as the story moves forward. But things aren’t that simple here. The story is just getting started.

Lake Mungo, looks creepy as hell to me

A psychic has gotten involved by this time; he runs a local radio show where people call in and ask him to help with all sorts of paranormal issues and with connecting to dead relatives and the like. June feels strangely comforted by his presence over the airwaves and asks him to come help them out. He even holds a seance wherein they try to contact Alice, but nothing happens.

As we delve into Alice’s history, it’s clear things were not quite right between her and her mother. It’s handed out in little bits and scraps, but it seems clear that June had become rather distant towards Alice as she grew into her teenage years; as if there was some deeper level of love June was unwilling to invest in her. It’s revealed that this coldness, for lack of a better word, runs deep on Mom’s side of the family, as she experienced the same distance from her own mother as a child. Alice and June, in short, were just not getting along at the time of her death, and it’s clear Mom carries the guilt of that in her heart. At one point she tells the camera that she hopes Alice knew she loved her, which is telling. She’s not at all sure Alice did know.

And in spite of Matthew’s revelation about his deception, the strange noises around the house don’t stop. June decides to go back over the old tapes he produced, wondering if she can see anything else in them that might explain whatever is going on, and sure enough she finds something in one of the videos – there’s a figure hiding out in Alice’s bedroom, all crouched down in a corner. Even weirder, Mom tells us that this figure is – their neighbor?

Meet the neighbors – on second thought, don’t

June rightly decides that if the neighbor – Brett Toohey was his name – is skulking around Alice’s room at night, there’s got to be a reason and it’s probably not a good one. Some snooping reveals the truth about Brett’s late-night visit (or visits, who knows how many times the guy snuck in there). He was looking for a tape that June found in Alice’s belongings. How does June know he was looking for this tape? Because the tape reveals that Alice had become involved in some sort of sexual “relationship” with Mr. Toohey and his wife. It’s not clear when this situation developed or how long it had gone on – Alice had babysat the creepy Toohey’s children for years – and it’s also not clear why Alice has this tape in her possession. Now, Alice can’t be more than 16 or 17 at the time of her death, which makes this nothing like an actual sexual relationship at all and much more of sexual abuse of a minor, but the movie doesn’t dwell on that, which isn’t the greatest choice in my opinion. But I hate to admit that at the same time, this revelation about Alice is oddly effective; the flat-out oddness of the revelation, and the magnitude of its effect on Alice, serve well to deepen the sadness and detachment she had from her family when she was alive. Who knows how she felt about this situation with her neighbors, but we can project plenty onto it – it’s deeply wrong, and probably scarring for Alice emotionally, and it probably caused her to feel isolated not just from her family but from everyone around her.

Dr. Slatter, the psychic

And it’s not just the tape June discovers. In Alice’s planner, June finds a business card taped to one of the pages – and it’s the same psychic the family has been consulting with recently. Why does Alice have his business card in her calendar? Because as it turns out, Alice had been going to see him for readings or sessions or whatever he calls them in the weeks before her death. Dr. Slatter claims he didn’t tell the family he knew Alice due to confidentiality issues, but June ain’t buying it, which seems reasonable. Based on his situation he never should have agreed to meet with the Palmers once he realized who their daughter was, but he did it anyway, and he doesn’t have a really great explanation as to why. He is quickly booted out of the picture, but the whole situation adds yet another layer to Alice’s secret life. Why was she going to see him anyway?

Searching for Alice’s body

June finds something else in Alice’s planner that triggers a memory; Alice had several days marked off for a trip to Lake Mungo with high school friends at the start of summer. June recalls that Alice wasn’t the same after taking that trip. A few of Alice’s friends are interviewed who reveal that they, too, noticed a change in Alice after that, and that she actually seemed upset about something while still on the trip. Several of Alice’s friends share cell phone footage they took on the night in question, when something clearly upset Alice, and through the dark and shaky video June discovers something – in the background of one shot, Alice can be seen by a small copse of trees, burying something in the ground. Off they go to Lake Mungo.

It’s easy enough for them to find the spot where Alice did her digging, and soon enough they uncover Alice’s cell phone – she’d told June when she got back from the trip that she lost it – along with some jewelry that was special to her. There’s footage on the phone, so they fire that bad boy up and get to viewing.

Alice, looking less than happy to be there

It’s shaky footage of Lake Mungo as Alice walks along, alone in the dark. In the very far distance, her camera spies movement. Then a small speck. The speck gets bigger and it’s clear that it’s a figure. It walks slowly but directly towards Alice. The closer it gets into view, it becomes clear that it’s a person. A female. And slowly it dawns on us – as it must have dawned on Alice – that this figure, this person, is her. The figure moves closer, and we recognize the odd distortion of her face matches the disfigured face of her corpse when it was lifted from the water. This is Alice seeing herself dead, drowned – the face moves right into the camera, and seems to float there for some time. Then it shrieks like a damn banshee and lunges at her. The video cuts out. And that, my friends, is the jump scare to end all jump scares. The director has been slowly tightening the tension for almost an hour at this point, and we’re all ready to spring right out of our seats from being wound so tight. It’s a horrific jolt, being so out of place in such an otherwise quiet film, and it’s wildly effective.

Yikes

So this is why Alice started seeing Dr. Slatter, and this is why she was so affected by the Lake Mungo trip. She saw her own death coming for her. We see footage of Alice in one of her sessions with the psychic, and she describes to him her feelings of isolation and loneliness. She describes a dream in which she walks into her parents’ bedroom at night, soaking wet, and stands at the foot of their bed, crying and begging them to wake up. But they don’t respond. They don’t hear her. They can’t help her. And Alice realizes she is completely alone. It’s – pretty sad, actually. It’s a terrible realization for someone to have at her age, and it’s a terrible way to feel at any age. Whether or not we can believe she actually saw her own death that night, we can sympathize with her pain, and it makes her premature death all the sadder, that she had to die while carrying the burden of so much fear and loneliness.

This seems to be the missing piece in the puzzle for the family. After making this discovery, as June describes it, they actually start to move on. They don’t make any actual decisions to move on, it just sort of happens, as if they are finally able to put Alice’s memory to rest. June even visits Dr. Slatter one last time, to get some closure on the whole experience before they move out of the house where so much tragedy has happened, and try to put themselves back together again. At this point, the film cuts between a session Alice had with Slatter before she died and the session June is currently having with him. June describes walking into the now-empty house, and moving towards Alice’s room. Alice describes being in the house alone, and hearing her mother coming towards her. June sees herself entering Alice’s room and looking for her everywhere – but she can’t feel her in the house anymore. “She’s gone,” she tells Slatter, and she appears to be at peace. In Alice’s session, she describes her mother not being able to see her, even though she is in the room, and then her mother turns and walks away without saying a word. “She’s gone,” Alice says, and from her perspective, it has a completely different tone.

Matthew’s backyard photo, with the image of Alice in front of the bushes

The film moves from this scene into a replay of photos and filmed moments the crew has shown before, but this time our eyes are drawn to what we missed before – even in Matthew’s faked images, there’s a presence we’d never noticed in every single one.

The same picture, with another Alice sitting on a bench off to the right of the frame
That’s definitely NOT Matthew in Alice’s jacket
And that’s not Matthew off to the left either
Can you see her? It’s tough to make out, but she’s standing behind the cabinets

Faked apparitions or not, it appears Alice has been in the house with them since her death. And based on her session with Dr. Slatter it seems Alice was having experiences of her life after death before she died. And while the family has found the closure they were seeking, selling the house and moving elsewhere to start over, it’s not so clear that Alice has gotten the closure she needs to move on. Looking back at that first photo we saw of the family, taken on the day of their move out of the house, we can see Alice staring out at them from the window behind them.

Check again

So what does this mean for Alice? Is she trapped in the house now, doomed to haunt it for all eternity? Or does her staying behind mean she’s releasing the family and letting them go? Did she guide June to discover her secrets for some reason? Or is she simply trapped in the house, watching the family carry on without ever being able to reach them? Does she know she is dead, or is she still stuck in the house, thinking she’s alive and no one’s listening to her? There aren’t any answers to these questions, which seems fitting really. It’s like June says at one point: “Death takes everything eventually. It’s the meanest, dumbest machine there is, and it just keeps coming and it doesn’t care.” 

The movie isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. It’s slow, and quiet, and definitely not your typical horror film. But what it definitely IS, is haunting. It’s one of the most effective portraits of being haunted by grief I’ve ever watched, really, because of how subtle and confusing it is. And the way the filmmaker managed to create a haunting that torments the dead as much as it does the living adds to the grief.

We as the audience are left feeling more like Alice at the end of it than the rest of the family. We’re stuck in that house with her, watching them leave us behind, and we don’t at all know what that means for us, and where, if anywhere, we will go. And that, my friends, is terribly, tragically sad. And scary as hell.

Horror Fave: Hellbender (SPOILERS!!)

What’s the horror: witches

Does the dog die? There are some dead forest animals; mostly we see the bones and that’s it

Gore factor: Medium – there’s lots of blood in this one, but not as much actual gore

Re-watch scale: Heavy rotation. This is a new film but I’ve already watched it many times.

First, let’s talk about the filmmakers here: The Adams Family (with one D, not two, so no nostalgic TV connection there) consists of mom, dad, and two daughters, who do all of the acting, writing, producing, directing, etc. among them. Sure, they call in resources when needed, but for the most part, this is some seriously all-in-the-family indie shit. And for the tiny budgets they work with, the two movies I’ve seen from them (they’ve made more but they are hard to find) are quite good. I much prefer their latest, Hellbender, to their previous offering, The Deeper You Dig, just because it has a more cohesive story, better pacing, and a more satisfying ending, but TDYD is also a pretty unique and creative horror film.

The Adams Family is led by actors Toby Poser and John Adams. Adams was a male model back in the 90s, and Poser was a “bad girl” on the soap opera Guiding Light. In other words, even in their fifties, these are quite beautiful people. Poser in particular is captivating on-screen, at least in my opinion – we are the same age, and she appears in her films with almost no makeup, a fair amount of wrinkles, and zero plastic surgery. She’s also a woman of normal size, although a look back at her time on GL reveals she was as slim in the 90s as I was, back when it took zero effort to stay thin. And her hair is amazing.

Toby in her soap opera days, 1995

Poser in 2019

Poser and daughter Zelda Adams in Hellbender

While John Adams played lead opposite Toby Poser in TDYD, here he is mostly off-screen, only appearing in one short scene – this is primarily Toby and Zelda’s show, with some of older sister Lulu Adams worked in for good measure.

Lulu Adams

John Adams

The story involves Poser as the mother, who never gets a name in spite of her leading role, and daughter Zelda as Izzy – true to form for this family, Zelda has quite the modeling career going as well as her writing, producing, and acting gigs. She’s signed with Elite models, which is about as, well, elite as you can get.

Zelda Adams

She’s quite good in this film, and I won’t do that thing where social media shits on her for having an in-road into Hollywood because of her parents’ relative success – I get where other actors may be overlooked because someone else has a famous last name, but it also makes a lot of sense to me that acting talent can run in families, somehow, so if the actor or actress in question is good at what they do, I’m not bothered. Everyone who’s never acted thinks it would be so easy, but being a good actor takes a certain amount of instinct not everyone has, and in my opinion, talent is talent. And Zelda Adams has it. Not to mention working with her family on a micro-budget and helping them do everything themselves.

So here’s the deal: Mom and Izzy live an isolated life in the mountains of- somewhere? – the setting isn’t stated that I can recall. Things are a little odd from the jump – Izzy is homeschooled and has some unnamed illness that requires her to remain in isolation from others, only able to socialize with Mom. To make up for that, Mom plays bass in their two-woman band, called, appropriately enough, “H6LLB6ND6R,” while Izzy plays drums. They really camp it up when they practice in their basement – donning theatrical Bowie-style makeup and performing on a makeshift stage. Hellbender’s music accompanies the film, and while it’s all rather slow and moody and not particularly complicated skill-wise, the duo can flip from a whisper to a scream on a dime, and the melodies are intriguing.

There’s an odd strain between mother and daughter in the beginning of the film – a restraint that feels like it’s about to break loose. This is ultimately a coming-of-age story; Izzie is chafing against the restrictions of her supposed illness, and it’s clear Mother is aware of this and concerned about how much longer she can keep her daughter under her thumb. Not for lack of trying though; the opening scene of Mom leaving Izzy home alone to drive into town is chock full of “keep out” imagery:

Also, Mom has a sweet car

It’s clear, however, that Mom loves Izzy deeply, and that Izzy reciprocates that love.But band practice with Mom in the basement is starting to feel a bit pointless to Izzy; she suggests that perhaps they should start to branch out a bit and play live at parties or in town. Mom is 100% against this idea, though; reminding her that it’s too dangerous for Izzy to socialize with others. You may start to wonder at this point whether or not Izzy would be in better health if Mom fed her something besides platefuls of twigs and forest berries.

Finger not included, until later that is

It’s no surprise that Izzy starts wandering farther out from their isolated home, and eventually stumbles across the other humans who are off-limits to her; a lost uncle visiting family nearby encounters her while lost in the forest, and when Mom finds out Izzy’s come in contact with someone who could harm her, she takes care of it in a decidedly not-normal fashion.

So long, Mr. Uncle; we barely knew ya

Once Mom poofs said uncle into nonexistence we’re clear on where the weirdness in their relationship comes from; Mom’s clearly some sort of witch with magical powers of the destructive kind, and daughter Izzy has no idea. In other words, Mom’s got secrets, y’all. And as Izzy wanders farther into the physical and symbolic forest with restless teenaged curiosity, the tighter Mom wants to hold onto her.

Enter Amber, whom Izzy meets when she accidentally ventures into her backyard. Amber is likeable and friendly, seemingly unphased at the appearance of a random stranger on her parent’s property – which we’ll eventually learn is because it’s not her parent’s property but a vacation home she’s ‘borrowing’ while whoever owns it is away – and invites her over for a swim and a beer. Izzy, we learn, doesn’t even own a bathing suit, so Amber promises to bring her one the next time she visits. At this, Izzy beams, clearly pleased to have made a friend, and the next day she sneaks away for another visit, which doesn’t pan out as well as she’d hoped.

This time, Amber has friends over, and after they ooh and ahh over Izzy’s musical skills, they settle down for some serious drinking. It’s pretty clear booze is new to Izzy, but she’s game to eat the tequila worm, which causes her to stare woozily into the distance as if she’s going to be sick – which would be understandable really – until she lets loose with a guttural, otherworldly howl. The other kids burst out laughing, and right then the owner of the summer house comes bursting through the fence, screaming at the kids to get the hell off his property. Off everyone goes into the forest, including Izzy, but she’s clearly under the influence of the alcohol, or the worm, or something, because she’s still acting stoned as hell and unable to speak. Unfortunately, their great escape ends with Izzy attempting to strangle poor Amber, who pushes her away and darts of deeper into the forest, understandably telling Izzy to stay away from her, so, end of friendship, I guess? Which is a bummer, because she seemed like a genuinely nice person and it was nice for Izzy to get a moment or two of bonding with someone other than Mom, but whatever is wrong with her has gotten in the way – and by now she’s figured out that what is wrong with her is not some illness that makes her susceptible to germs or whatever.

A confrontation with Mom is inevitable at this point, and when Izzy returns home Mom is waiting. She knows something’s up, and when Izzy asks her what exactly they are Mom spills the beans (or twigs I guess): they’re witches, from a long line of women who practice a very dark magic indeed: in fact, they are able to reproduce asexually, eliminating all need for male participation, and they draw their power, quite literally, from eating living things. Hence Izzy’s reaction to the tequila worm.

Mom’s kept all this from Izzy to protect her, or so she says – their power is dark and ugly, she says, and it is feared in the outside world. She believes there’s no way for Hellbenders to survive in the modern world unless they hide their power, and the only way Mom sees to keep their evil tendencies under control is to isolate. It’s clear she’s not just talking about keeping Izzy away from her own nature, here, but also herself. She’s done things in her past that agonize her, but as she tells Izzy, she did what she was taught to do. Until she reached a point of believing that what she, and all Hellbenders, were doing was wrong. Drawing power from death and destruction can only lead to one’s own D&D, in the end – at least, that’s how Mom sees it. Izzy, totally new to the idea of her own power, sees things differently. But we got a glimpse of the Hellbender in action when Mom disintegrated Sad Uncle in the first act, so we know where embracing their Hellbenders can take them.

The true face of a Hellbender

At this point, the movie becomes a bit predictable, but it’s still fun to watch. Izzy wants to know more about her powers, and Mom sets out to teach her now that the cat’s out of the bag. But she does so with hesitation; she doesn’t want Izzy’s newfound knowledge to overly influence her or change her – which is exactly what happens. Due to Mom’s deception, no matter how well-intentioned it may have been, Izzy has already destroyed the one normal friendship she’d managed to make – Amber has made it very clear that she wants nothing more to do with her, but to Izzy, the connection they made is far too important to discard. She’s never had a friend other than Mom, and it turns out Mom’s been less than forthcoming with her. It’s coming of age run amok, and Izzy lashes out at the people around her whom she sees as her betrayers – her mother, for lying to her all those years, and Amber for rejecting her friendship and refusing to give her a second chance. Mom has tried to explain to Izzy that their powers can do no good in the world and that it’s their responsibility to suppress them, but she’s coming from a place of experience in the witchy world where she was able to make that choice. Izzy has just discovered her own power at a crucial time in her development, and the reality is that her peers are always going to treat her like an outcast, like a freak – something every teenager fears, something that seems even far more likely for Izzy – and the bond she shared with her mother was based on a lie.

It doesn’t take long for Izzy to push beyond Mom’s boundaries around their history – she easily gains access to Mom’s secret sanctum and learns more about her heritage. She starts off on a discovery journey of her own, practicing the darker magic Mom is desperate for her to avoid. And when one last attempt at friendship with Amber falls flat, she takes revenge – against both Amber and her mother. All of Mom’s secrets have been spilled, and Izzy uses them against those she sees as causing her pain.

Sorry, Amber

Yikes

Ultimately, Izzy spares her mother from Amber’s fate – so long Amber, we barely knew ya – but it’s clear the power has shifted. Mom is scared of Izzy now, and Izzy knows it. The final moments of the film reverse the dynamic of the first act, with Izzy telling Mom she’s going into town, while Mom is forced to stay where she is.

There are intimations throughout the unspooling of the Hellbender mythology (to which we’re given only glimpses) that these centuries of asexual reproduction include an element of violence on behalf of children against their mothers; the mother who gives the child life must eventually sacrifice her life – literally – to the daughter, who is compelled to eliminate her. I’m guessing at this because none of it is explained clearly, which I think is best. To overly explain the mystery of this world our protagonist is just beginning to explore would be incongruous with what’s happening at this moment. Izzy doesn’t know, and doesn’t care, about the darker side of her family history which might give her pause; she’s actively rejecting the perspective of her mother during this process, so it makes sense that what we learn is barely enough to grasp also. We’re only shown what Izzy wants to focus on, which is a power that’s been denied her for 16 years. At the movie’s end, Izzy’s path forward is unclear, but she’s already killed one person within weeks of learning about what she’s capable of, so it doesn’t look good for anyone. Perhaps she will eventually draw the same conclusion as her mother, who has made it clear to Izzy that she regrets her past acts of violence, but it’s also clear, based on how things turned out for Mom, that fully denying her power is a losing proposition also. We know Izzy’s fated to reproduce and grapple with a daughter of her own and how who that girl becomes determines her own future. Izzy may be feeling her witchy oats at the moment, but moving forward is going to be complicated.

Found Footage Flail: There Are Monsters (SPOILERS!!)

Reason for filming: A group of film students are sent on assignment to collect alumni interviews for their college.

What’s the horror: Aliens, zombies

Does the dog die? No animal cruelty

Gore factor: Minimal

Re-watch scale: Occasional re-watch.

There’s a cool story at the heart of There Are Monsters; I just wish it was executed differently. While this movie is labeled as a found-footage film, for at least half of its runtime none of the characters are actually doing any filming; they’re all on-screen being filmed by some other camera. Based on that, it’s baffling to me why they chose to use found-footage techniques for the entire film. It’s perfectly fine to use occasional found-footage in a movie and more traditional methods for the rest of it; plenty of films have done this to good effect. But for whatever reason, the filmmakers chose here to keep a consistent, shaky-cam style even when none of the characters are doing the filming.

This isn’t a still from the movie but it could be

To make things worse, this is actually some of the most over-the-top shaky-camera work I’ve ever seen in a found footage film, and it’s not even really a found footage film. That’s quite a feat to accomplish. There are actually entire scenes that are NOTHING but blur and movement – we cut to a scene of blurred light that is also spinning around for no reason, then just cut to another scene without any idea why we watched that madness. The camera is constantly shifting out of focus while characters are on-screen, and at times it just never focuses on any of them at all. Even scenes that are just the four characters having a conversation go by in a whir of motion; the camera constantly jump-cuts between them and goes in and out of focus to boot. It’s kind of a mess.

Why is this happening

So why would I ever write about a movie like this, or ever bother to re-watch it? Because the story, while derivative, is told quite an interesting way, and the movie is great at building tension and providing a decent payoff in the end. There are also some great jump scares and cool effects at play; I just wish the found footage conceit had been done away with altogether.

One of the better jump scares

The story is this: a group of film students set off to interview alumni that the college can use on their website. Along the way, the crew of four starts to notice people around them with some really strange behavior. They see unresponsive people standing still with their backs to them. They keep seeing twins everywhere. And every once in awhile someone gives them a creepy smile that’s just a little off – keep in mind, this movie was made in 2013, well before this year’s Smile hit theaters, so it’s not like it’s copying that particular feature.

Two of the main characters, Beth and Terry, take all of this weirdness to heart straight away, but of course we have to have that one person who just refuses to believe any of it is real until the last possible moment. That person in this movie is named Jeff, and the actor looks so much like the dude from Entourage that I had to stop and look him up to see if it was the same guy. It isn’t.

Guy Germain
Kevin Connolly from Entourage. Seriously, how is this not the same person?!

Maybe it’s my loathing for Entourage that made me hate Jeff so much, but I think it had more to do with just how long this character stayed committed to naysaying everything that happened as no big deal. I wanted to cut out his tongue if he used the word “just” one more time (It’s just the wind. She just has a cough. It’s just the flu. They’re just getting ready. You get the idea). Seriously, his refusal to take anything seriously becomes quite maddening, especially when one little glimpse at his friend Dan’s diary scribbles convince him everyone’s been right when he’s been confronted with far better evidence by his friends that he JUST refuses to believe.

Maybe it’s Maybelline?

It turns out that some sort of force, possibly alien, is taking over human bodies, creating exact replicas of them that take over their daily lives. And while these replicas look exactly like their human counterparts, they don’t know how to behave like humans, and their attempts at it often fail – like the freaky twins’ makeup applications above. This works well in the opening act of the film to keep us interested in what the hell might be going on without giving away too much – a receptionist at a school is wearing her shirt inside-out. A man in a waiting room writes random letters and scribbles all over his crossword puzzle. As previously mentioned, the group comes across random people standing with their backs to them, perfectly still and unresponsive. And occasionally, someone dazzles them with that unnerving, too-wide grin. So what exactly is going on?

The film does a good job building up all these strange occurrences, culminating in a pretty awesome scene where whatever’s going on starts to happen to everyone all around them. And once Jeff is finally convinced that people are losing their minds – or their souls, or whatever – the group takes off running. It turns out that enough humans have been taken over by that time that the strange force controlling them all decides there’s no longer any need to hide, and once that happens, it’s zombie time.

In looking up the cast for this movie, I discovered this actor died from brain cancer at 32. RIP, buddy.

From this point forward, the movie becomes your typical third-act run-from-the-monsters-and-try-to-survive fearfest, but shaky camera aside it’s well-done – although it goes on just a bit too long, and does that thing where it manages to pack in about three endings where the movie easily could have stopped, then keeps going. But the chase is fun, and there are some good jump scares thrown in for added pizzaz. Unfortunately, the damn cameras just get shakier and shakier, even though no one is filming anymore, which seriously mars the enjoyment of the film overall. It’s too bad the director went this route with it, because it’s pretty solid otherwise.

Found Footage Fave: The Houses October Built (SPOILERS!)

Reason for filming: A group of life-long friends rent an RV and go on a road trip the week of Halloween, to try and discover the most extreme haunt experiences possible.

What’s the horror: haunts gone wild

Does the dog die? No animal cruelty

Gore factor: None

Re-watch scale: Heavy rotation. This is another one I can watch at any time.

The Houses October Built is an interesting found footage film with a lot going on all at once. It’s part documentary (there are real interviews with real haunt workers), part horror story (just how much of what’s happening to these characters is a part of the ‘extreme’ haunt they’re trying to track down, and how much of it is the work of true psychopaths who are out to cause them harm?), and part social commentary (the protagonists make a lot of assumptions about the ‘backwoods’ haunt workers they encounter in the small towns they pass through, and it’s at least hinted at that their privileged unawareness is part of what causes their trip to go awry; there’s also the issue of how the four male characters’ slightly toxic masculinity at times puts the one female friend in danger)This is not a universally-loved found footage film by any means, but in my opinion everything melds together in a pretty satisfactory way, even though at times it can feel scattered or even slightly out of control. It’s an interesting mix that creates a pretty unique found-footage experience.

A lot of the enjoyment of this movie hinges on how you feel about the five characters you follow through the film. It’s a road trip story, with five Texans (shout-out to Texas!) who rent an RV and film themselves going on a week-long road trip across both Texas and Louisiana, looking for off-the-beaten-path, more-scary-than-usual haunted attractions. A lot of time is spent with these characters in the RV cutting up and discussing what they want to get out of the trip, and if you don’t find them likeable or their chemistry engaging I can’t imagine you would enjoy watching this one. Personally I find them all likeable (although some are more likeable than others, but that’s necessary to move the plot along when things start getting dicey – someone has to be the asshole that keeps pushing the more cautious characters into sketchy situations) and I find their chemistry to be very natural and charming (two of the characters are real-life brothers, and several of the cast members really are friends). We spend a lot of time with these people in their journey across Texas in their rented RV, so being able to tolerate them is pretty essential to enjoying the film.

Let’s meet the team! Bobby, Jeff, Brandy, Mikey, and Zach

The film starts off with some actual news reports of haunted house tragedies that have occurred in recent years – the haunt worker who accidentally hung herself for real while working but who was already dead before it was discovered, the haunt worker who was actually an escaped murderer. And who knows how much interview footage they actually recorded during the making of this thing, but they definitely picked the more chilling segments to intersperse throughout the movie, such as the dude who described his experience as one of “getting out of my own fucked-up headspace and taking out all that aggression on someone else for a few hours.” Yikes.

Interview with a clown

Each aspect of the film – the haunts themselves, the interviews, the characters’ reactions to their surroundings – escalates over the course of the movie, and if nothing else, this is a movie that knows how to build tension. The first few haunts are impressive, but more fun than scary, yet each successive attraction grows darker and more disturbing. There’s a shift from the concept of a haunted house patrons want to enjoy to a terror experience they have to endure, and the boundaries of what is acceptable to portray and impose on people are subtly, but constantly, being pushed. Throughout this descent, there are also many warnings about the various stages of danger these people might be in, with the one female character, Brandy, being the most vulnerable. At one point, a character in a haunt starts whispering her name and telling her, “Brandy…you’re donna die.” At another point, some shady male characters who appear to be working with an extreme haunt (it’s unclear to what extent they’re involved) traps her in a bathroom and threatens her. There’s another incident where someone sneaks into the RV and films the gang while they are sleeping, and whoever is behind the camera takes a particular interest in Brandy, even reaching out and pretending to caress her sleeping cheek.

Clown confrontation

At each escalating stage, it’s unfortunate that Brandy’s friends fail to recognize not only that Brandy might be an actual target but also her growing discomfort with what’s going on. After the two men trap her in a bathroom, we hear Bobby saying to the others, “We can never leave Brandy alone again,” which is NOT a realistic solution to the problem. When the video that was taken in the RV ends up online in a haunt chat room, the dude’s response is “don’t tell Brandy, she’ll freak out and want to leave.” Perhaps the best example of the men’s inability to recognize that they are in over their heads and are actually not able to protect her, we hear Zach yelling to some haunt workers “Don’t you touch her!” while he’s got a bag over his head and his hands tied behind his back. In response to this command, the haunt worker simply kicks him to the ground, and Brandy is left to deal with the situation alone.

None of the men come across as assholes, and they genuinely care about each other as friends, including Brandy – they are just clueless about the fact that they are getting themselves into a situation they can’t control. In fact, they simply seem unable to conceive of the idea that there are situations they can’t handle, even as the evidence that indicates the opposite stacks higher and higher. There are points throughout the journey where most of them express doubt about whether or not they should continue, with the exception of Zach, who, as the organizer of the whole trip, is the most insistent that they all see it through to the end. It’s one thing to seek out extreme haunts when we know that’s what we’re going for, but it’s another thing to be surrounded by a bunch of assholes out in the woods, complains Mike at one point. It’s all part of it, Zach reassures him. We just have to go with it. But by the time the final “extreme” haunt begins. it’s clear even Zach is nervous and feigning more confidence than he actually feels.

The source of this mysterious extreme haunt experience the group hears about and eventually finds – or rather, the haunt experience finds them – is sketchy from the beginning, and the film does a good job of making the origins of this climactic event unclear. There are hints from the first haunt stop that the group has made some enemies – at one point, Mikey finds a ladder and sneaks up onto the roof of the building, shouting an Almost Famous-like “I’m a Halloween God!” into a megaphone and inspiring a chorus of raucous cheers and applause from the hundreds of haunt-goers gathered below. It’s a silly, spontaneous, frat-boy-ish move that has no ill intent, but that seriously pisses off the owners of the haunt. In fact, haunt characters/workers from that first haunt (as well as each successive one) will make appearances at later attractions, sometimes even though they have traveled hundreds of miles since then; the camera will quickly pan past a familiar clown or creepy doll-girl or deranged rabbit that we know we’ve already seen at some past stop, but the images flash past so quickly that we can’t be sure. So – are they being followed from the beginning. and if so, why? Is it merely because they’ve managed to earn the ire of some haunt owners, all of whom communicate with each other using private message boards online? Or do they simply travel around from haunt to haunt themselves? Is it possible they’re all a part of this mysterious “Blue Skeleton” group the gang keeps hearing about and pursuing, the roving haunt attraction that’s so underground and extreme, its location changes from Halloween to Halloween, and can only be found through private channels?

This is NOT a happy clown

There are other moments where the group’s journey into the seedy underbelly of haunt attractions highlights their own naivete about what they’re playing with. At one stop, the gang stops the RV for some beers before heading out to the evening’s attraction, and they encounter a haunt worker hanging out in the same area. They strike up an uneasy conversation, as the worker doesn’t appear to be all that thrilled to find them hanging out in what he clearly thinks is his camping spot, and things take a turn for the worse when Bobby starts talking about his fasciation with the haunts they’ve seen so far. He mentions how there are all these little kids working in the haunts, because out in the “backwoods” there are no rules and no one’s going to call CPS. “What you mean backwoods?” the haunt worker aggressively barks back, clearly unhappy with the label

As the haunted houses get darker and more death-oriented than your standard ghosts and ghouls (we go from aliens and evil clowns to rapists and mad scientists ripping people open on operating tables), Zach gets closer to locating the notorious Blue Skeleton, and eventually makes the connection he needs. This is when shit really gets weird. They’re given a location of some dive bar where they’re supposed to meet with a “Mr. Giggles” who will tell them how to make contact with the extreme haunt group, and this bar scene is worth the wait. The entire bar seems to exist for the sole purpose of creating a creepy atmosphere for thrill-seekers searching for extreme haunts; even on a weeknight every patron in the bar is dressed up as ghouls and behaving as if they always dress that way. A couple in rotted out clothes drags themselves slowly across the dance floor, some huge dude in a prison outfit and a face smeared with blood sucks on a brew, and two zombies sit at the bar counter smoking like it’s any other Tuesday night in the world. Everyone is in character from the moment the group walks through the front door until the moment they leave, and it’s bizarre. When the guys ask one of the zombies about Mr. Giggles, the huge prisoner-ghoul pulls up “Halloween Spooks” on the jukebox, and a demented clown – who eagle-eyed audience members may recognize as having been seen in previous haunts already – comes shuffling out onto the dance floor, bizarrely gyrating and wiggling towards their table. The look on Brandy’s face here says it all:

The guys are called outside to meet with the aforementioned Giggles, and Brandy makes the terrible decision to go to the bathroom. This is when the two zombie dudes decide to corner her in there, and she manages to push her way past them in time for Bobby and Mikey to question them. Brandy is shaken, and the guys decide they have to be more careful about leaving her alone, but sadly, they don’t decide that things have gotten out of hand and that perhaps they should quit their haunt journey while they’re ahead.

It may be too late for that, anyway; because the haunt now seems to be following them. Aside from being filmed one night while they sleep, they also find themselves surrounded by a whole host of costumed creepers a few nights later. A weird cow heart shows up in their RV fridge one morning, causing Mikey to barf into the sink clad in nothing but his hot pink boxer briefs – which is quite an image. On Halloween morning, a huge pumpkin is thrown against the side of the vehicle, with an invitation to New Orleans inside. When they throw open the blinds, they find five blue skeleton masks stuck under the windshield wipers. Mikey and Brandy are the most disturbed by this, but no one but Zach seems the least bit interested in pursuing the invitation. In spite of their obvious discomfort, all the pressure to be the one to say no way falls to Brandy, and she can’t bring herself to do it under the circumstances. She’s basically bullied into participating, and without her leading the opposition, no one else steps up to suggest they bow out. So on to New Orleans they go, blue masks in hand.

This is actually from the sequel but whatever

Halloween night in New Orleans is as insane as you might imagine, and in the chaos the man-child Jeff is the first one to pick a guy in a Blue Skeleton mask out of the crowd. Unfortunately, he thinks it’s Bobby, who is wearing the exact same blue hoodie as this guy, and he follows the dude into an alley like an idiot (sorry Jeff, but situational awareness is a skill you need to develop). Suddenly he sees someone else in the alley, and it’s the weird porcelain doll-girl from the very first haunt, along with a deranged rabbit we’ve already spied miles ago before shit got too real. Jeff turns around, and a whole host of deranged clowns and haunt workers from previous haunts are closing in on him. He gets the shit beat out of him, then he’s tied up and dragged off. And that’s the last we see of Jeff.

Oh, Jeff. These people are not your friends.

Back to the remaining four. Zach has called Jeff’s cell phone, which now has a message on it saying they need to meet someone at a random address out in the middle of nowhere if they want to see their friend again. Cut to the RV trumbling along in the darkness. Inside, the mood is grim. No one’s speaking, and everyone is some combination of pissed and terribly concerned. Mikey asks where in the hell they’re going, and Bobby stops the RV to yell at him about how he doesn’t know what to do, either. Any thought of this whole Blue Skeleton/extreme haunt thing being a game are gone now, and everyone’s starting to lose it a little. A car approaches them in the distance. It stops. For a moment nothing happens, but then Zach gets a text. Get out of the car now, it says, or your friend will die. Mikey is confused. This isn’t real, right? he asks Zach. I mean, let’s just go out there and get this over with, we know what this is. It’s the extreme experience they’ve been seeking, we the audience think, but even we are not sure. Is this a haunt, or are they all in danger? There’s no way to know.

And there’s not much time to think, because as soon as Mikey says he’s not scared because its not real anyway, Zach gets another text. You will be scared, it says. So…they can hear inside the RV now? I don’t have much nice to say about Zach about this point, but at least he takes it upon himself to be the one to get out of the RV and approach the waiting car, since this was all his idea in the first place. Shortly after he leaves, however, the RV is shaken and glass is broken; the remaining three fall to the ground and within seconds, several big skeleton-masked thugs break in and drag them all away. Oh dear.

Oh shit – Can they hear us?

There’s a bus ride with blaring music and everyone but Jeff – who really is never seen again – seated inside with black bags over their heads. Eventually the bus stops, and the three guys are taken outside, leaving Brandy in the bus alone with two skeleton-dudes. She’s weeping openly now, and begging not to be left alone. The guys shout and scream for her to come with them, but surprise surprise that no one cares. I’ve done my fair share of reading about the extreme haunt experiences, and when they are done properly, participants are give a safe word they can say at any time and their experience is immediately ended. But there are no safe words here, and it’s clear that whatever’s going to happen from here on out is definitely not going to be well-organized, safe, or possibly even legal. Thanks Zach.

To maintain the found footage conceit, Blue Skeleton is also filming the experience, and they give each person a camera to film everything that’s going on. That takes a big suspension of belief to accept, but I’m willing to allow it. We first follow Brandy into a creepy as hell dilapidated house where lights flash on and off, music blares out for a few seconds at a time before cutting off again, and doors slam at random. Zach appears to be locked in a darkened room with nothing but a blue light overhead, while Mikey and Bobby wander around in the dark looking for a way out. They are all IMMEDIATELY over it and asking if they can quit. No one answers. Eventually, they all end up getting the crap kicked out of them as their cameras cut out. It…doesn’t look good.

Cut to Brandy, unconscious and bloodied, being stuffed into the trunk of a car. She’s taken out to the middle of nowhere, where a deep hole has been dug into the ground. Simultaneously, the other three wake to find themselves locked into coffins. Cut back to Brandi, who’s laying in a wooden box. As the lid is closed on it, we see that there’s a camera inside. She comes to, but only after the lid has been closed, and we watch as she screams for help while hearing dirt being piled on top of the lid. They’re burying her alive. Likewise, we cut to the guys in their coffins, all banging and scratching, trying to get out. Then we cut to a shot of one of the Blue Skeleton guys, still wearing his mask. He looks directly into the camera, and it cuts to black. The end.

Poor Brandy really needs new friends

Some people are unhappy with this ending, calling it anticlimactic, but I think it’s perfect. To me it indicates they’re all going to be killed, and that’s the ending I still go with, even though a sequel was filmed that blows that theory all to hell (and as a sequel, it’s…not good). In my opinion everything points to this being the end of the road for the group, and the threats have seemed pretty real. So I choose to believe that’s how the story ends. It’s open to interpretation, however, which I think is what some don’t like about it. It also feels abrupt after so much skilled tension-building, but that doesn’t bother me either. Your mileage may vary, but overall I’d highly recommend this movie for something unusual that makes the most of the found-footage format in a unique way.

Found Footage Fave: Rec (SPOILERS!)

Reason for filming: A local TV show called “While You’re Asleep” is spending the night in a fire station to show what life is like for the firefighters who work there.

What’s the horror: a deadly zombie virus

Does the dog die? No animal cruelty

Gore factor: Pretty high. There’s a lot of blood and gore in this one.

Re-watch scale: HEAVY rotation. Even though I just watched this one, it was an instant fave. One of the best found footage films out there, in my humble opinion.

Zombies are usually not my thing. And since the pandemic began, neither are movies about deadly viruses that force people into quarantine. But having watched just about every found footage film I could find, I finally decided to give this one a go, since I’d heard so many great things about it. Well, not exactly – I first watched the American version, which was filmed a few years after this one, called Quarantine.

Quarantine was good, but mostly it just made me want to watch the original. And I have to say, the original is better, even for those of you who hate having to read subtitles (personally I always have the subtitles on even with English films, so I’m fine with it). While Quarantine sticks pretty close to the original with its story, it lacks some of Rec’s urgency and chaos and moves at a slightly slower pace. And most importantly, the main character, Angela – the female reporter – in Rec is just far more likeable than Quarantine’s. She comes across as much more down to earth and professional than the Quarantine version, who comes across as much too flirty and, at times, is both a sexual harasser and a victim of sexual harassment, both of which seem to be fine with everyone involved. Quarantine actually has Angela stroll into the firefighter’s showers and film dudes naked – no, seriously, she does – while they strut around bragging about the size of their dicks. This sort of nonsense continues throughout the first 10 or so minutes of the film, before the real action begins, and it’s incredibly off-putting. I found it hard to forgive any of them for their sleazinesss even when they were being face-ripped and slaughtered one by one. None of them come off well in the opening moments, and it does affect how much we care about what happens to them down the line.

Did you know firemen have dicks? Cuz I’ve seen them!

But enough about Quarantine. Rec has none of this skeeziness. The Angela in this film is way more focused on trying to get a good story than just hang with the boys and be the Cool Girl. She films the firemen at dinner, playing basketball, even their sleeping quarters when things get dull (but at no point does she follow them into any showers) and basically hopes against hope that a call will come in so they can film the men in action. Oh Angela. You are going to regret the granting of that wish. Which is a shame, because have I mentioned she’s extremely likeable? Because she is.

This is the only Angela who matters

It only takes about eight minutes from the start of the movie for a call to come in, and off they go. Angela and Pablo, the cameraman, hop a ride on a fire truck with Manu and Alex, the two men who’ve been tasked with escorting the camera crew around on this night.

This is Manu. And there’s a reason there are no pictures of Alex to be found.

As the truck arrives at the destination – an apartment building where a report has been called in about an elderly woman trapped in her flat – they see a police car that is already on the scene. “Maybe this is more serious than we thought?” Angela asks while trying not to sound too hopeful. They enter the building, where several of the tenants are milling around in the foyer area. It’s dark and cramped and very echo-y, so the various conversations they’re having among themselves make it sound like there’s a lot more people down there than there are in reality. The crew heads up the stairs where a policeman is waiting in front of an apartment door. Much ado is made of the fact that there’s a camera crew with them, but Angela sticks to her guns, insisting they have permission to film, and tells Pablo to keep the camera running as they enter the apartment. He does.

Conchita is not having a good day.

It’s clear right away that the tenant, Conchita, is in a state. Pablo briefly turns on his camera’s light to reveal that she is also covered in blood. Yikes. As one of the cops approaches her and tries to calm her down so they can get her some help, Conchita goes off. She tackles the cop and basically rips half his face off with her mouth. It’s shocking, and pretty gross. We see Angela run in the opposite direction from the melee (smart move, Angela) while Pablo, ever the professional, turns his light back on and gets right in there to film the good stuff. It’s utter chaos as everyone’s screaming and the men are trying to get Conchita off the cop and drag him to safety. Conchita’s forgotten for the moment (although Alex was instructed to stay with her, ahem) as the team rushes back down the stairs with the bitten cop bleeding profusely. And we’re off, folks.

The men try to rush the cop out of the building, but…there’s a problem. A swarm of policemen are now crowded around the front – we can see the garish flashing of their blue and red lights reflected off the concrete walls – and they refuse to let the men out. They are refusing to let anyone out, it seems, and no one inside knows why. Soon enough they’re given instructions by someone with a bullhorn. “The health authorities have decided to close off the building. Please stay calm and we will get you out as soon as possible.” Unsurprisingly, this announcement generates the opposite of what you would call calm.

Angela is NOT having it

Much chaos ensues. The firemen are shouting about needing to get the injured man to a hospital. The one remaining cop is trying to get everyone to follow the instructions of whoever’s outside calling the shots. He’s also trying to get Angela and Pablo to stop filming, but they’re having none of that. And the tenants want to know why they can’t go back to their rooms, at least, but the cop says everyone has to stay downstairs. There are sirens blaring, and lights flashing, and people bitching and shouting, and then – BLAM! Poor Alex slams onto the floor in the background, and it appears he’s been thrown over the first floor railing. It’s another huge shock, and it kicks things up another notch for everyone involved – and thanks to the found-footage POV, the audience is a part of that sad bunch. We’re trapped, and it’s clear there’s something awful going on.

Oh look! I found a picture of Alex. A few hours after this, his poor head will be cracked wide open. So long, Alex. We barely knew ya.

Back up the stairs we go, to find out what the hell Conchita’s been smoking that gave her the strength to chuck a firefighter down a stairwell. She’s not playing around, though, and immediately charges at the team when she sees them, so down Conchita goes in a blaze of bullets. She’s down folks, but I wouldn’t count her out just yet. This zombie thing’s got legs. And teeth.

Things are getting serious now, and the crew is trying to find another way out of the building. But the cops outside are one step ahead of them, and every exit they find is in the process of being blocked and covered with a huge-ass tarp, so they can’t even see out. One woman is holding a daughter, who has a fever and has been waiting for her father to bring them antibiotics, but he can’t enter the building to give them to her. Two men are in the process of bleeding to death. One old lady’s been shot. And everyone’s stuck in the foyer of what’s become a prison. It’s madness. Then there’s another announcement from the bullhorn: A “BNC protocol situation” has been declared, and they’re going to send in a health inspector to assess the situation. BNC, apparently, stands for biological/nuclear/chemical threat situation. Yikes.

But wait, there’s more! Soon everyone’s cell phones stop working. So do their televisions and radios. And the building supervisor, who also happens to be a medical intern, says the two wounded men won’t last much longer. And the little girl’s fever is getting worse. There’s more rushing about trying to find a way to escape, but every exit’s been blocked off. There’s a lull in the action here, as Angela films an update by interviewing some of the tenants about what they’ve seen and what they think is going on, and the intern tries to keep the injured men from dying. An elderly couple bickers with each other about what they think is really going on. A Chinese woman struggles with her Spanish to describe the fireman falling from upstairs. The little girl’s mother threatens to sue when this is all over. Angela interviews her daughter, who tells her she’s sick with tonsillitis, and she misses her dog Max, who’s at the vet. An older dandy who is mostly concerned about his face being shiny and that the camera films him on his good side blames the Chinese for the whole thing, as does Lawsuit Mom a little later on. Ah, racism. It’s not just for Americans.

A health inspector enters, covered by a bright yellow Hazmat suit complete with full head mask. Now that’s reassuring. Off he goes to get some blood samples or something from the wounded men. Angela and Pablo find a way to peek into the area where the injured are being held and film the proceedings. There are handcuffs, and needles, and lots of whispering. And then both of the dying men rise up off the tables and attack. The poor intern gets bitten by Alex. Somehow the health inspector manages to escape, as do Manu and the cop. They lock the intern up inside the room with the two zombies. It’s too late for him. He’s been bitten.

There’s no getting around it now for the health inspector; it’s time to spill the beans. It turns out that a day before a dog was taken to a vet. He was sick, and fell into a coma. All of a sudden the dog roared back to life and started attacking everything in sight. They had to put it down. A microchip led the health department to this very building. “Was the dog named Max?” Angela asks. Yep.

Oohhhhh I see – so the “let’s blame the Chinese” lady turns out to be the one who brought the virus into the building? Interesting.

Just as everyone starts to surround Mom and her daughter and demand – I don’t know what – answers? Retribution? – the daughter barfs blood into Mom’s face and runs screaming up the stairs, with her eyes all bugged out and her teeth grown sharp. The mother is trying to chase her daughter up the stairs, understandably, and so to stop this the cop handcuffs her to the stairwell. Then they go up to find the little girl on their own.

Not worth saving. Nope.

They find her, all right. And in trying to save her the last remaining cop gets bit, and tells the rest of the team to leave him there. They do. It’s a smart move, even if it is a futile one, because this thing is spreading fast and there’s nowhere to go. They’re trapped, and it’s clear that they’ll soon be outnumbered.

And damn, ya’ll, Conchita’s still not down for the night! Poor Manu has to sucker-punch Nana AGAIN before heading back down the stairs, where he passes the Chinese couple and the vanity man who are on their way up. “They’re getting away!” he shouts as they pass, and as Manu makes it down to the foyer we see the door where they’d locked away the intern and his newbie zombies opening. They need to run away, but whoever handcuffed Mom to the stairs has lost the key, and they can’t free her in time. As Angela, Pablo, the health inspector, and Manu run up the stairs, we see the zombie trio come rushing out of the back room and immediately making a meal of her. “I’m sorry,” Manu tells her as he rushes away, which I’m sure made her feel loads better.

Conchita AGAIN?!

They encounter vanity man in the hallway and lock themselves into an open apartment. The health inspector locks himself into a bathroom, telling them that he’s been bitten and to stay away. Unfortunately, the door doesn’t hold, and the health inspector ends up ripping off half of vanity man’s face before Manu, Angela, and Pablo run away. So long, vanity man. Here’s hoping the health inspector at least left your good side intact.

Back out in the hallway now, the quartet realizes they’re running out of options. They can hear the sounds of raging lunatics all around them, and they’re unsure where to go. Angela says they need to get into the storage room, but they need the intern’s keys since he was in charge of the building. But no one can knows where he lives, and they can’t even remember his name. Finally Angela recalls it – Guillem – and they make a mad dash for the mailboxes in the building’s foyer to find his apartment number. They quickly find it, but oops – Mama’s woken up from her nap, and it does NOT look like she accepted Manu’s apology.

Zombie Karen wants to speak with the manager

Fortunately she’s still handcuffed to the stairwell, so they manage to skate past her while she rages and reaches for them wildly. More zombie encounters ensue – the Chinese dad, then a random woman I don’t even recognize. There’s a sad little scene where Manu asks Pablo to help him take down random woman, and he puts the camera down to do so, and all the audience sees is her sad little feet in house shoes twitching away as they kill her. It’s a weird, tragic little visual. They run into a darkened room and struggle to find the light. As soon as they do, the light goes on and oops – Chinese mom is right there, zombied out and raging. Watching this scene makes me wonder how much fun it must have been to play one of these creatures – just going shit-wild and making as much ruckus as possible must have been a blast. Then Manu grabs a mallet and puts an end to that shit, and off they all go to open up the intern’s apartment and find his keys.

It’s important to note what’s going on here: we started out this disaster on the first floor of the building, where most of the tenants were gathered together to wait out the situation. The cop was trying to keep everyone in one place to control the chaos, but unfortunately, he failed. Conchita was still upstairs causing a ruckus, and then the little girl got loose and ran up there as well, and as the two injured men and the just-bitten intern busted out the back door it became a free-for-all, with everyone running off in all directions, and for the most part getting themselves infected. And now we have the last remaining three getting pushed higher and higher up the stairs towards the top of the building. And what can they do then? The chances that the cops outside have left any roof access unblocked is slim to none. They’re running out of time AND space to survive. And with every passing second there are more zombies coming to life and running amok. In short, it’s not looking so good for these three.

They make it to the intern’s apartment and Manu uses his death mallet to bash the door open. He WAITS OUTSIDE – Manu nooooooo!! – while Angela and Pablo make a desperate dash through the rooms to locate the keys. The TV is still on, with the intern’s dinner sitting on a tray in front of it, a small reminder of how quickly these people’s lives have gone from normal to nightmare. Angela and Pablo are beside themselves by now, barely holding it together as they trash the apartment looking for keys. They finally find a huge keychain full of them and grab them all, then dash out of the apartment only to find Manu gone. Noooooo not Manu! Angela clearly agrees with me as she starts crying and calling out his name. Unfortunately he answers her:

Manu noooooooooo!!!!!

I have to pour one out for Manu here. He never stopped trying to help people reach some sort of safety. I know he’s just a character in a movie, but believe me when you’re watching this thing it feels like you’ve been involved in this situation for years at this point, and losing Manu is a real heartbreaker. When you lose Manu, you know you’re out of luck entirely. It truly feels now like only a matter of time until our dear TV crew is done for, too. Plus, we know how found footage films end, and no one ever survives this shit. But just like Angela and Pablo, still we hope, although I’m not sure a world without Manu is one worth living in. But I guess we gotta try.

They end up reaching to the top of the building – the penthouse – which is a suite no one has occupied for many years. We heard this earlier in the evening when one of the cops was asking who all lived in the building. Anyway, here we are at the end of the road. It’s the top apartment, and there’s nowhere left to go. They make it inside just in time, as the rush of zombies are right on their heels. They slam they door and find themselves in total darkness. We hear the screaming zombie horde and Angela’s manic wailing as Pablo tries to turn on his camera light. When he does, they find themselves surrounded by newspaper clippings and papers and files. A quick camera zoom around the room makes it clear that some sort of – dun dun DUNNN! – lab experiments have gone on up here.

There are needles and an old tape recorder up there, too, and Angela plays it back to reveal that there was some sort of Vatican project going on up here, wherein they took a possessed girl and tried to isolate an enzyme that made her possessed, or something? Then the enzyme mutated and became contagious, I think? That’s all I can gather from it. But no matter, because while they are listening to this an attic door up above them slams open, and Pablo sticks his camera up there to see if there’s any way to escape through the attic. He finds some wicked creature up there instead, that smashes his camera light and breaks it. He resorts to using his night vision to see what’s going on in the room, which unfortunately means Angela is completely in the dark.

That’s probably for the best, because what Pablo sees through his camera is pretty terrifying. I’ll spare you a shot of it here, but I did find this picture of the actress playing Angela posing with the person who played the role of the possessed girl, who it turns out has been locked up in this penthouse for years.

Yikes

Imagine seeing that through a night vision camera, lumbering about and smashing things around, trying to find out who’s in her room, and you get the idea. It’s awful. Soon enough the creature finds Pablo and smashes him to death with a hammer. Now we’re down to just Angela, the only one left in the building alive. We see her in the dark, crawling towards the camera that Pablo has dropped, and in the background we can hear all the screaming and growling in the building full of zombies. Then she screams as she is pulled backwards into the darkness, presumably by the possessed creature. The end.

Rec is considered to not only be one of the best found footage films around, but one of the best zombie movies out there as well. It was so successful that it spawned three sequels, all of which I have watched. None of them live up to the original but overall they’re not bad. I may or may not recap them at some point. Alls I can say at the end of this is that if you ever watch just one found footage film, make it this one. I have my other faves for sure, but this one tops them all. It’s that rare beast that would not have been better served without the found footage conceit; it’s actually BETTER because of it, which is really unusual. For the most part a film is made in this style because of budget constraints, but Rec without the found footage angle wouldn’t be nearly as fun of a ride.