Review: Survival Knife

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020

Images from the Internet

Survival Knife

Directed by Mike McKown

Robot Monkey Studios / Wild Eye Releasing

102 minutes, 2016

www.wildeyereleasing.com

Even before I start, this is an interesting premise, if one looks at the time framing. In most films, especially the slasher genre, it usually takes 20 minutes (not counting the ubiquitous prologue) for the action to build (Act 1), another 40 minutes for people to start up getting killed (Act 2, or, the ramp-up), and then the rest of the film is where the action is packed and the killer is exposed and sometimes done away with, usually by who is often known as the “Final Girl,” a term I believe was framed by Carol J. Clover in her amazing book, Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film, which can be found online as a .pdf.

Well, this film picks up where Act 3 starts as its Act 1 (or perhaps one could call it an extended, 8-minute prologue since the credits run over it; it’s all semantics, so I’ll leave that up to you, dear reader). Right off, you can see some nods to previous films as a homage, such as A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) where the masked killer, the Survivalist (Jesse-Lee Lafferty) runs his knife along the wall (who would do that in real life?) in an abandoned factory (that makes a great film set) like Freddy did with his glove in the furnace room, and the one-eyed, eyepatch vengeance seeking lead in the Swedish classic, Thriller: A Cruel Picture (1973).

Though the Survivalist is mort and his body fried and now fertilizer, suddenly there are more killings in the woods in his style, while our final girl Penny (Danielle Donahue) is having vivid dreams of violence. Unlike One-Eye, there is no vengeance to seek with her masked slasher gone, so the question is whether our PTSD-ridden heroine, like the lead in Ms. 45 (1981), is fulfilling a need for action triggered by past events? Needless to say, Penny is angry, and why wouldn’t she be? No longer able to work (as a stripper, natch), her fiancée and all her friends were the Survivalist victims, and the press is hounding her – well, one reporter, anyway (Kaitlin Schoeb).

She also has to deal with the likes of a too-personal psychologist (psychiatrist?), Dr. Lentz (Bruce Lentz), a empathetic police detective, Jake (Lonnie Thomas), and a less than sympathetic one, Kim (the wonderfully named Melissa Troughtzmantz), who are the procedurals on the case to find the murderer. Speaking of which, I figured out the key element of the murders just before the half-way point in the film (that is my procedural).

Overall, this release is pretty bloody and violent throughout, sometimes in the present and others in flashback, but most of the time (as in other than one time), it is without gore. There is, however, a few scenes of gratuitous nudity (all female), and even a shower scene, which at one point was practically a given in slasher films. And then there is the occurrence in the strip club, focusing a lot on the action at the poles, beyond the storyline occurring at the bar.

The film uses mostly a muted color palate early on, with dull hues tones, such as dark blue striped shirts, or pillows with black and white patterns; there are no bright colors like reds or yellows. Even the walls and plush chairs have gray tones, and the apartment rooms are sparse. The flashbacks are shot through a sepia-toned filter. Even Pittsburg, where it is filmed, looks a bit washed out in long shots in a bit of haze of smog. I was impressed with the filming within the abandoned factory, which is a mixture of bright sunlight and deep shadows. Occasionally the people in the sunny bits look a bit washed out, but overall, I was struck.

The acting is mostly passable, with some of the secondary characters being a bit wooden, but you definitely can feel Donahue’s anger through her clenched, very white teeth, which is how she talks most of the time (anger issues, remember?). The electric soundtrack sounds decent without it being overly synth-sounding (I’m not a synth fan; too 1980s even for me).

The story was written by Jim Towns, who actually did a great job with this complex plot, even without much exposition as to what life was like before the killings (other than Penny’s engagement). What makes this a good tale? Well, just as it doesn’t start where most films do, neither does it end there, as it continues beyond the point of where one would expect it to be; plus, there a few false endings, and that is decent writing for this release.

That’s not to say there were not a few weak points: for example, Penny keeps kneeling and bending on a bad knee (something I live with), getting up with relative ease. Also, there is a distracting overdubbing in one scene that is really bad, involving the name of a strip club which was obviously changed at some point after filming (for legal reasons?). I’ll chalk that up to budgeting, so I will forgive that.

Mainly, the film is a bit long, and could easily have about 10 to 15 minutes excised (that’s what the “Outtakes” feature on a disc is for). That being said, overall, I would say it’s a well done slasher and psychological thriller that has some nicely done twists and turns.

Review: Lost Child

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018

Images from the Internet

Lost Child (aka Tatterdemalion)

Directed by Ramaa Mosley

Green Hummingbird Entertainment / Laundry Films /
Variant Pictures / Breaking Glass Pictures

101 minutes, 2018

twitter.com/lostchildmovie

Have to say, I really like many of the local legend subgenre releases, whether the mythical beings are “real” (e.g., can be found on Wikipedia) or made up simply for a particular film. It seems many of them refer to backwoods areas like the Ozarks regions. This one, y’all, is one-a-‘em, about a life-draining spirit that comes in the form of a child called the Tatterdemalion (translated as a person in tattered clothing, or being dilapidated). This film actually began titled with the name of the creature, but they were wise enough to change it to its present, more accessible one.

Leven Rambin

Here, we meet redheaded Fern (a glamoured-down Leven Rambin, o the mainstream-level. The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters, and “True Detective”), who has come home to said Ozarks after nearly a decade to look for her brother, bringing with her a strain of PTSD from multiple tours of combat. While ramblin’ about looking for her kin, she stumbles into a kid named Cecil (newcomer Landon Edwards) roaming around the woods by his own self, and takes him in.

Of course, everyone is nervous that the kinder is said tatten… you know what, I’m really glad they changed the name. Anyway, people keep giving Cecil different kinds of tests (like to see if he avoids salt). The response is left kind of open of course, not to show a hand one way or another.

That’s one of the things I like about the film, that you really don’t know what’s going on between suspicion, fear and reality. Meanwhile, Fern has been fading and weakening, having trouble sleeping and eating. While they take place, the viewer is left to try and guess if these tests prove if it’s the PTSD or perhaps the Tattythingie.

As a side note, one of the things that drives me a bit crazy and seems inconsistent in the storyline is that if Fern grew up in these here woods, why has she never heard of the Tattsrats if everyone else has? This seems like a bit of a plot hole. And let’s not talk about that Cecil wears the same clothes throughout most of the first half of the film, that are unstained while living in the woods, being tan cargo pants and a white tee.

Landon Edwards

Anyway, like most psychological or supernatural dramas, whatever this turns out of be, it has a pretty slow build, so the viewer gets some perspective about the people and the area, though a bit of patience is needed as an uneasy bond builds between Cecil and Fern. Luckily, it’s beautifully shot with hues that are of earth tones, nice angles, and the camera isn’t afraid to linger on a shot for more than five seconds, as with most modern releases; usually the bigger the budget, the less space between edits.

The film seems to take place in the early 1990s, considering the huge size of computer, lack of cell phones and internet, and I’m pretty sure Fern is coming back from the first Gulf War. It was a tipping point in history, just before different cultures would collide and then splinter even further thanks to the World Wide Web. But it also makes people to not be able to look things up and get instant answers (such as me looking up the Tattentinkle on Google).

There’s also three dudes that come acallin’ in one form or another. The first one is Mike (Jim Parrack), a relative Southern Gentlemen social worker type who isn’t afraid of a one night stand, another is Billy (Taylor John Smith) her estranged brother who is a patch of rough and violent southern gravel, and the third, Fig (Kip Duane Collins) is neck deep in the local mythology. Some extremes to choose from, but I’m willing to bet that not everyone is as they seem, even though I haven’t gotten that far (yes, I’m writing as I’m watching).

 One of the things I really like about this film is that it does not shy away from social commentary about the first Bush years. There is extreme poverty shown, a kids in custody problem (which currently still exists, even in the North, by the way), drug use, and essentially backwoods ignorance that one would hope has improved somewhat (though the occupant of present White House may show different).

Jim Parrack

A fanatical belief in creatures in the woods is similar to religious fervour, which brings fear, blame, and then anger in a misdirected way to adapt to what is going on around one; in logic it’s known as a fallacy from ignorance: my sheep died so there must be something evil out there as I don’t know why else.

As slow a start as the film kicks off on, it gradually builds, and the entire third act is an incredible thriller that comes as a surprise due to its step-by-step building of events and personae. If you’ve started the story, give it the time. There’s no jump scares, no viscera, but there is violence and hardship coming to a very satisfying conclusion.

This film has a lot to unpack. It’s more than just about some Untiddytang creature, it’s also about the overarching social and governmental routine as monster, which did not take care of veterans, was unsupportive of extreme poverty, and a social system of child custody, which is one scary mofo (I have loosely been involved with the latter, and see the results of government policy as it stands).

This is definitely from a female perspective, of a female character in a male society, but even with all the political and social standings it presents, it never takes away from the story nor does it hit the viewer over the head. It’s all subtle and emphasizes the points of the story rather than distracts from them.

Again, to be overly redundant, it’s good they changed the name of the film.

Review: The Girl in the Crawlspace

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018

Images from the Internet unless indicated

The Girl in the Crawlspace

Written and directed by John Oak Dalton

New Dynamic Pictures

76 minutes, 2018

www.facebook.com/thegirlinthecrawlspace/

One of my favorite aspects of centralized indie cinema is how a local scene forms and then spirals into growth for everyone, much like a music locale. In the Indiana area where this film takes place, there is a group of filmmakers whose work strongly overlaps. On the director side there is Henrique Couto (who produced this and was Director of Photography) and Dustin Mills (who, as far as I know, has nothing directly to do with this one); as for John Oak Dalton, he’s written a few of the films directed those I’ve just mentioned, and this is his own directorial debut. There is also an acting pool that tends to overlap as well, especially the centerpiece of The Girl in the Crawlspace [TGitC], Erin R. Ryan, whose fan base is growing.

John Hambrick, Erin R. Ryan, Joni Durian

When we approach the story for TGitC, the horrific events of Jill (Ryan) are in the past, and she has escaped from the Crawlspace Killer after 7 years of captivity. Now, to paraphrase the Dusty Springfield song, “She just don’t know what to do with herself” thanks to a heavy and understandable dose of PTSD This is the spine of the story, but actually, Jill isn’t even the central character.

More than a “horror film,” this is an intense, tight psychological drama focusing more on Kristin/Kitty (Joni Durian), a psychologist who had moved from this same small town to Hollywood, and has now come back after inheriting the family home. She has set up a therapy practice based on the families of the serial killer’s victims, who were mostly young boys and Jill.

Kristin has brought along the other main focus of the film, her husband Johnny (John Hambrick, who co-starred in Couto’s 2017 Devil’s Trail) who has quite the history on his own: he’s a semi-successful screenwriter with writer’s block since he’s joined Narcotics Anonymous, and is not exactly what one would call a reliable partner. Okay, he’s a douche nozzle that either can’t or won’t grasp what is socially acceptable living in a small town.

The last major character is the Sheriff, Woody (Tom Cherry, who also was Casting Director). He’s a bit slow and a good-hearted, and actually quite likeable. He’s also the guy who killed the Crawlspace Killer, so Kristin worries about his First Responder PTSD.

This is a sharply written and directed first feature, and it bodes well for possibilities of the shapes of things to come. Dalton plays with the experience for the viewer, keeping the viewer off balance with red herrings and working the psycho-trauma tropes that we fans are so used to, and adding something new all the time. At least four times I thought I figured out the ending, and three times I was wrong, but my errors were also addressed within the storyline. How cool.

There is also a bit of social commentary that doesn’t hit you over the head with self-righteousness, but rather keeps it in the public eye. For example, there is a slight focus on the fragility of Mexican migrant workers and how they can easily be exploited, as they have been; it’s ironic talking about taking kids from families and then the government starts to do it to reinforce the notion.

Working with an experienced filmmaker like Couto also brings out some really nice moments, such as Kristin and Johnny arguing in near yellow silhouette in a living room, in front of lamps and a curtained window as the camera rolls back and forth between them. There are little gem moments like that throughout.

The weak point to me in the film’s story is the fluidity of lack of patient/doctor (psychologist) confidentiality. For example, Kristen is too willing to share her own narrative with her patients, even if she grew up with them in her life; you talk about it in social gatherings, not during paying sessions, which is a serious breach of trust. She also talks way too much to Johnny about Jill, especially considering the couple’s relationship. I work in a not-for-profit, and I would never discuss my clients with anyone other than getting advice from my boss – and that’s without p/d legalities. However, in cinematic poetic license, I understand talking to someone onscreen is the equivalent to telling the audience what a character is thinking.

One of my favorite aspects of this film is that it delves into the Tarantino-esque trivia knowledge of a film fan (not just horror, though there is especially that), with different characters spouting actor’s roles in specific films. Note that if you are not one of these encyclopaedia-level nerds (like me), this aspect is not overwhelming and doesn’t take a single thing away from the story or events, but if you are… well, for me, my find was racing to answer my own list. The moments of RPG (role playing games) is similar in that while it’s somewhat key to the story, it actually does not matter if you’ve ever played one (I have no interest), it’s just a cool shade to the film.

Another commentary I want to discuss is a group rant about Hollywood’s somewhat “sucking at the dry teat” of horror sequels. Yes, that’s a direct quote from the film, and I agree wholeheartedly.

Ryan, photographed by Henrique Couto

The last thing I want to bring up is how much I was impressed by Ryan’s performance. I’ve seen her in a few indies now (and as usual, dressed in red), and I do believe this is one of the more nuanced acting I’ve seen from her, and I want to acknowledge that. Though not the not the main focus of the film, as I said, she’s its shadow, coming in at moments to change the direction of the story.

I love it when a film surprises me in its subtly among the mind games. There is no gore and very little blood, an implied body count, a generally attractive cast, and an ending that is quite satisfying.

Review: Decay

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016

Images from the Internet

Decay

Edited and directed by Joseph Wartnerchaney

Uncork’d Entertainment / Ghost Orchid Films

98 minutes, 2015 / 2016

www.decayproject.com

www.ghostorchidfilms.net

On a subtextual level, this psychologically unnerving film asks the question, how far would you go for company if you were lonely? Add some mental instability into the mix, and the margin of extremity is certainly sure to rise, especially in genre cinema.

Rob Zabrecky as Jonathan

Jonathan (Rob Zabrecky, who was also the singer/bassist for the group Possum Dixon in the 1990s) has a case of OCD, where he has to line up everything just right most of the time, opens and closes things twice, and has a series of locks on his door that would make one of the old ladies in The Producers (1967) jealous. He definitely has a bit of a Norman Bates vibe to him, with his tall, lanky appearance and self-uncomfortableness.

Lisa Howard as Mother

Part of this, though, is a form of PTSD after growing up with an uber religious and mentally unstable (bi-polar or depressive, is my guess) mom (Lisa Howard). She is extremely possessive of her son, and will not let him be himself (i.e., a little boy). She mocks and punishes him severely for the slightest mistake. She rebukes him with lines like, “An unlocked door is an evil door.” Part of this begs the question of whether his – well, let’s call it insanity – is nature (hereditary) or nurture (trauma).

Jackie Hoffman as the Neighbor

There are some definite correlations between them, such as his while mother collecting those little spoons you can buy at gift shops, he gathers lost keys and uses them for art projects in his basement, where he also grows and obsessively photographs orchids. During daytime he works as a groundskeeper at an amusement park in Aurora, Colorado (a suburb of Denver where a shooter killed people in a theatre showing a Batman film in 2012), that is preparing to open for the season. There, he shares his lunch with his exact opposite: a loud-mouthed and boorish womanizer (Elisha Yaffe) who is always talking about his conquests. The last person in his life is a neighbor (Jackie Hoffman, who you are bound to recognize as she is often cast as the nosy Jewish neighbor or law professional in television shows).

Hannah Barron as Katlyn

Well, that is only partially true. There is another person who intrudes and has a major effect on his life. A teenage neighbor, Trish (Whitney Hayes) and her visiting friend Katlyn (Hannah Barron) break into Jonathan’s basement to look around and check out the weirdo (the actual motive is either not give or I just missed it), and thanks to some unfortunate circumstances in the first five minutes of the film so I’m not giving anything away, Katlyn ends up dead on his basement floor.

In his own twisted way, he now has a friend of sorts, similarly to Creep Creepersin’s Frankenstein (2009). But corpses rot, and he’s into neatness. Will his delusions trump his OCD, or vice versa? And will it calm him down or lead him to manic phases and do more harm to himself and others? All these questions and more are addressed in interesting and imaginative ways that impressed me, writing wise.

Many of the characters echo each other, such as the neighbor talking trash about other neighbors in a similar way that his mom warned him as a child (well played by Reese Elingher), or his co-worker proving his mother right about wild women, and I really wanted to punch that guy out; I’ve actually worked with people like that, and it’s both annoying and depressing to talk (or have to listen) to someone that shallow.

Much of this mirroring is part of how well the script is written, but I’ll get back to that shortly. The whole cast is excellent, with Zabrecky giving Jonathan a really nice and somber tone, without depressing this viewer, or making me tired of the character. There was just the right amount of pathos and creep factor to keep the attention sharp. Zabrecky is a good looking guy, so the dichotomy of the outside and inside makes it even more intriguing.

It takes a while (and worth the wait), but eventually the gore level starts to increase as time and rot becomes more noticeable. There is some excruciatingly unnerving visuals as the physical decay progresses. She’s the yin of the physical decay, and he’s the yang of the mental one, balancing nicely as they both slide into a kind of sludge. Really nice SFX match the beautiful way it is lovingly shot, including an occasional artistic edge that enhances rather than overdoes the events. There are a number of really decent jump-scares as well.

At probably about 10-15 minutes too long, that’s my only “complaint.” The film has a beautiful look to it, the editing and lighting are sharp, and it is very well written. The ending was an extremely nice touch, and did not go for the obvious out, and I am extremely happy about that.

I have to say, I really enjoyed this film, and so if you get the chance, it’s a solid excursion. And realizing that it is the director’s first solo feature effort, well, wow.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppoP9vB20Fs

Review: Abandoned Dead

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016
Images from the Internet

Abandoned Dead
Written and directed by Mark W. Curran
Nightwatcher Films / Pacific World Pictures / Pocket Studios / MVD VIsual
77 minutes, 2015 / 2017
www.abandoned-dead.com
www.mvdvisual.com   

Californian rent-a-cop security guard – as in needing to feel secure – Rachel Burke (Burke’s law?) has been assigned to begrudgingly watch over the Mayfield Addiction Clinic over the Memorial Day Weekend (memorial = dead). It’s a clinic which deals with, well, addictions, and there is methadone stored there – not to mention frequent break-ins– so it stands to reason it can’t be left alone without some protection.

But, this is a genre film, so naturally things aren’t what they appear to be. They certainly don’t seem benign, as objects move, shake and appear in the shadows. As with most thriller kinds of films of this type, you are most likely looking not at the central character as she moves around, but the dark space down the hall, or the doorway on one of the sides of the corridor. Then there are the mysterious phone calls and the static that appear on the radio as a supernatural “tell” that something is about to happen. Woooooooooo, eerie, boys and girls.

The mysteriousness level is enhanced by the sharp use of stark color lights (red, blue, etc., or even the clarity of white). Most of the time, due to its use by so many other films, this visual has become kind of hackneyed, but Curran manages to make it work quite well here, showing emotion rather than just “Boo! Different lighting!” That makes me happy.

Also, this film is not just about the supernatural (or is it?), but a supernatural thriller (or is it?). See, that’s when a film becomes a thriller, making the watcher wonder. That leads me to another commonly used trope that is exploited here, which is a character (Burke) walking around a dark building with many doors, using only a flashlight (the lights go out during the story, not like CSI where they never turn the lights on in the first place…never understood that…”Look, audience, we have cool little flashlights!” But I digress…

As far as walking around the building, usually I hate these moments because they tend to last too long, turning suspense into annoyance and finally boredom. While there are a lot of scenes like that, again Curran takes the high road and tends to break it up into shorter segments, keeping the suspense high. Amusingly, the only distraction that really took me out of the moment was a scene where Burke investigates a bathroom, and the toilet seat is up. The back of my neck hairs stood up. Any male reading this that is cohabiting with a female partner will understand.

The premise is not new (not going to give it away) and I saw the central theme coming early on, though I wasn’t sure where it was going or how it would end. That helped in part to keep my grubby fingers off the fast forward button. This, actually, is a compliment to Curran’s direction and writing, to take a tried-and-true idea and jig with it in a way to keep the interest level.

Sarah Nicklin

Burke is played by multi-festival award-winning Sarah Nicklin. Now, I have to admit I love Sarah – no, not in that creepy older guy lusting after a hot younger woman, but rather I enjoy her acting skill and I have for a while, as she is a very natural talent. Yes, the role here plays towards the mostly “scared,” but that also makes the contrasts even more realistic and jutting.

While the idea of this film is similar in some ways to another film she was in (though not as the locus character) called Normal (2015), it takes a different turn than the previous one, and her character is very dissimilar than the other lead. Again, this is a good thing.

Judith O'Dea

The cameo du jour for this film is Night of the Living Dead’s (1968) Judith O’Dea, as a Doctor of the Mind (okay, psychiatrist… happy?). To be honest, I always through her acting in NOTLD was kinda wooden, even if she is one of the central characters who is supposed to be in shock, but she certainly does fine here, and I’m glad to see her working again. I would also like to congratulate Curran for not having someone say to her, at some point, “They’re coming to get you, Doctor.” Not every actor needs to have a “Woha” or “I’ll be back” that they just have to use to remind everyone (i.e., beat over the head with their ego) of their classic turns. Besides, she gets to say the film’s tagline, so that’s good enough for me.

There is no nudity in the film (though Nicklin carries the undies scenes quite well), but a nice level of gore FX is executed. Not a huge amount, but enough to make it stick out a bit more and be quite effective.

I enjoyed how this careened over a number of genres, such as slasher, doctor experimentation, supernatural, zombie, paranormal, social commentary about family dynamics, psychodrama, crime drama, and straight out horror; and yet, it doesn’t stay in any one stream long enough to overstay it’s welcome, nor pass so fast that it is ignorable.  

According to IMDB, this is Curran’s second full-length film (he directed the recording of a live stage production about Edgar Allen Poe previously). As such, it’s a work to be proud of, and there’s plenty of fodder there to grow on. I look forward to charting his path.

 

Review: Meet Me There

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Meet Me There

Cinematography, edited and directed by Lex Lybrand
SGL Entertainment / Greenless Studios / MVD Visual
93 minutes / 2014
www.sglentertainment.com
www.mvdvisual.com

Most horror films have an opening scene, usually before the credits, be it Michael as a child killing his parents, or Drew answering the phone while making popcorn, and that is also true here. This one starts a bit like Trains, Planes and Automobiles (1987), but when we watch two men travel to, and arrive in the town of Sheol (translated as “place of the dead,” or in the Greek New Testament, “Hades”; man, I love the Internet), Oklahoma, what happens there is certainly not what I expected. Off to a great start!

Post-credits, we meet the multi-inked and obviously in love cohabitating young couple Ada (Lisa Friedrich, who looks like a much cuter Kristen Stewart at 6-feet tall, in her first IMDB listed role) and lucky bastard / out of his league Calvin (Michael Foulk, who is obviously less than 6-foot), who are having trouble with intimacy – well, she is anyway; he’s just frustrated. Searching for answers to why she’s so prickly about getting personal, they leave Texas to her home town – yep, Sheol – where they encounter many strange people, including her religiously zealous coked-out aunt (Jill Thompson, of Scary Grandmother “fame,” with a face full of scabs) and imposing Preacher Woodward (Dustin Runnels, better known to the world as the WWE’s Goldust).

This is a town full of death, of course, as all horror film low-population loci are, and this one is presided by demise of both mysterious and by multiple means. Its forms of sacrifice by self and others is shown in its violence, and surrender, and sometimes both. And literally, what happens in Sheol stays in Sheol.



Lex Lybrand, Michael Foulk, Dustin "Goldust" Runnels, Lisa Friedrich

While this film could have been tailored by around 15 minutes or so, it’s actually well put together. Lybrand both directs and shoots the film with good pacing and beautiful lighting, giving more of a natural feel than most releases that wallow in stark primary colors. Sure, the night scene has the mandatory bluish hue, as it probably should, and dream sequences (or are they?) are in black and white, but the rest feels natural. The actors are lit in ways that make them look like real people rather than mannequins, and even in the dark-of-night scenes, the viewer can make out what is happening, rather than it being murky.

As for the script, while yes there can be some snipping as I said (e.g., the multiple stories during the car ride), the characters have a pretty realistic relationship, and don’t act “stupid” in dangerous situations (e.g., “A masked killer is hunting us…let’s stay in the house and run upstairs!”), but rather know when it’s time to get the hell out. Whether that helps them out or not, at least they have a better plan than most. Thanks to writer Brandon Stroud for that, who collected the supposedly true stories and/or dreams of Destiny Talley.

The actors, both lead and secondary, tend to get the job done well. The majority of the emotions feel real, and they react how you might imagine you’d expect someone in that situation to react, rather than just being mindlessly “Yaaaaaaah!” with arms akimbo or super-macho.

This film has been selected for quite a few festivals, and that is hardly a surprise to me. It has a velvety feel, some dream-like visuals without being overly esoteric, and a finish that is worth discussing among friends if you decide to pick this for a movie night. Nice nudity and some minimal gore (what I call CSI-level), so I wouldn’t recommend it to kids, but adults who are a bit sensitive may enjoy it, too.

The three listed extras are the trailer and individual interviews with Runnels (3:30) and Jill Thompson (5:30). While I understand that they are the “names” here, I would also liked to have seen a talking head of the leads, Foulk and especially Friedrich, this being her first film. There is also an unlisted commentary track by the director, which gives a lot of key information about the making of the film from a personal and technical standpoint, and some stories about the cast and writers. Most importantly, he gives some motivation for why in certain scenes.

Lastly, for all the professional wrestling fans (how many are you are disappointed about how the UFC is taking over? Show of hands?), there are a lot of lucha libre wrestlers who are not only one of the leads, but in secondary roles (commentary will clue you in). Also Stroud runs a wrestling blog and apparently Thompson is a huge fan of the art of the mat, so there is also that element.