Studio: Shudder
Director: Jennifer Reeder, Chloe Okuna, Simon Barrett, Timo Tjahjanto, Ryan Prows
Producer: Josh Goldbloom, Brad Miska, Kurtis David Harder
Stars: Anna Hopkins, Kyal Legend, Budi Ross, Christian Lloyd
Review Score:
Summary:
A police raid uncovers a sinister cult devoted to underground videos featuring creatures, vampires, a mad scientist, and the undead.
Review:
Festival fever may have bitten “V/H/S/94” a bit. Coming out of its Fantastic Fest premiere, attendees rabidly welcomed this fourth entry in the “found footage” anthology series as “a glorious return for the franchise.” Hyperbolic quips hit multiple levels on the effusive enthusiasm meter, with reactions ranging from a claim that “every segment leaves its mark” all the way up to one critic calling a certain story “a work of transhumanistic madness that’s as thoughtful as it is maniacally exciting.”
Far be it from me to rain on the parade of anyone who wants to assure you that the movie “slaps,” but my tempered take on “V/H/S/94” leans closer to Homer Simpson’s review of “The Three Little Pigs” at Springfield’s Storytown Village. “Well, it was good, but not great.” Then again, it feels like I’m the only person who raved about “V/H/S Viral” (review here), the sequel often cited as the least-liked (read: most-hated) entry in the series, so maybe I’m in the minority opinion on this one too.
Uncharacteristically for an anthology, “V/H/S/94” starts with its sharpest segment. Chloe Okuna’s “Storm Drain” doesn’t reach “WNUF Halloween Special” heights as far as recreating a full retro flavor goes. Yet it still accurately emulates an early ‘90s field news package right down to its quirky man-on-the-street interviewees and reporter wearing a “this is beneath me” grimace on her lips.
Mirroring a Mothman-like urban legend investigation, “Storm Drain” chronicles a two-person team searching the sewers for a humanoid ‘Rat Man.’ Given the wilder rails the rest of the movie rides on, “Storm Drain” ends up striking the most balanced blend of serious scares and slight silliness. It’s not as “out there” as what comes later, but it hits a sweet spot for weirdness with excellent execution and a solid little story.
Every anthology has a weakest link. “The Empty Wake” is “V/H/S/94’s.” It’s not poorly produced or anything like that. It’s just a lot of waiting around to arrive at the final reveal while a lonely mortician’s assistant labels tapes, phones a friend, and otherwise whiles away many minutes in the meantime. Writer/director Simon Barrett soaks the screen in uneasily eerie atmosphere. But “The Empty Wake” ultimately feels like the adjective in its title, even more so once the next segment comes up with crazier concepts that immediately paint over any memories that might have been forming in your mind’s eye.
An Orson Welles-sized shadow looms over writer/director Timo Tjahjanto in that he is one of the two filmmakers (Gareth Huw Evans being the other) responsible for “V/H/S/2’s” beloved and batsh*t “Safe Haven” segment, which is essentially “Citizen Kane” for this series (review here). Now, high expectations automatically attach to Tjahjanto’s name, and he’ll have to forever deal with the curse of living up to “Safe Haven’s” macabre mania.
Scaling back the narrative to a setup with a smaller scope stops “The Subject” from reaching “Safe Haven’s” lofty level. What “The Subject” does have however, is a limitless supply of eye-popping imagery you’re likely to see seeping into your dreams the same night as your screening. A spiritual successor to “Safe Haven” in certain regards, “The Subject” serves up a smorgasbord of splatter peppered with several gnarly kills.
What I appreciate about the meat grinder Tjahjanto creates here is that it’s not a goopy gross-out built purely from buckets of blood. Even though it focuses on intense visual shocks, “The Subject’s” bizarre sights are conceptually creative, reminiscent of some of the oddball entities from “Meatball Machine Kodoku” (review here). As long as you’re onboard with a gore-travaganza, “The Subject” can fill any eager cup with mondo carnage.
In the mid-90s, probably right around 1994 coincidentally, I worked at a small PBS station while attending college. One of the shows we produced was a Charlie Rose-like roundtable where interviewees discussed local issues. One particular night, the subject was private citizen militias, no doubt made topical by whatever Waco or Ruby Ridge incident was in the news at the time, and several members of a Michigan militia were going to be guests.
We were warned ahead of time that these militiamen would arrive armed, and they were planning to put a few of their men on patrol for “protection” or whatever. Sure enough, when I went to work that night, a bunch of weekend warriors who seemed like they’d just finished chugging a keg of Stroh’s at a monster truck rally were pacing the perimeter with assault rifles at the ready, and their eyes alert for “gub’ment agents” who might come after them. It took everything I had not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of these hayseeds taking seriously a threat they’d only imagined in their heads. These pretend patriots looked like complete clowns.
I bring this up because my first note on Ryan Prows’ “Terror,” which is about a Michigan militia planning to bomb a federal building with a most unusual tactic, was that it put too much ham in the meal. “Terror” certainly isn’t subtle, what with the way its hapless militiamen appropriate German monikers, refer to a poisonous substance as “black cancer,” and commit anarchist acts in Jesus Christ’s name. Then I remembered my actual encounter with Michigan militia members years ago and realized, yeah, these guys are cartoonish buffoons in real life too. After that, getting onboard with the savage satire of self-important dopes like these was easy, and “Terror” became more frightfully fun.
“Frightfully fun” might be the best way to favorably describe “V/H/S/94” as a whole. Tones aren’t exactly even, though the segments all walk lines of varying thickness between horror and humor, combining for a fairly consistent feel even though the four stories and the wraparound come from different filmmakers. Is this the “be all, end all” installment that’s going to annualize “V/H/S” again so it isn’t another seven years until the next sequel? Nah. As a wise man once said, “it’s good, but not great,” although he was technically talking about “The Three Little Pigs.”
Review Score: 70
If you want to see impossible amounts of blood explode crimson colors like the world’s worst version of a gender reveal, well, “Abigail” at least has that.