A Halloween-themed installment of the flagging “V/H/S” franchise is clear to the purpose of redundancy: Each have turn out to be annual celebrations of horror-related kitsch, “scary” as a method of self-classification however more and more secure — even comforting — in execution. Likewise, each provide a collection of disposable treats wrapped within the promise of an evening to recollect, however solely certainly one of them has ever given me a superb excuse to decorate my three-year-old son because the wood-chipper from “Fargo” (my then-pregnant spouse went as Marge Gunderson, it was an entire factor).
The “V/H/S” omnibuses grew to become an establishment as a result of the primary two have been sinister sufficient to promote the winking faux-cursedness of its discovered footage idea, and the choice to construct the sequence’ eighth quantity round bizarre sweet and cursed decorations makes it troublesome for “V/H/S/Halloween” to recapture the menace, ambition, or formal dexterity of its greatest segments.
Many of the shorts right here attempt to use vacation goofiness as a gateway to critical terror, however unsurprisingly battle to make it throughout that hell-mouth intact; in the meantime, the only episode that retains a straight face and faucets into a number of the actual fears that accompany trick-or-treating manages to turn out to be the franchise’s most genuinely upsetting brief in years. The entire bits are diverting sufficient, and even the weakest amongst them boast spooktacular results (legendary make-up artist and creature designer Rick Baker even performs a small position within the remaining section, which presents a worthy tribute to his work), however solely certainly one of them leverages Halloween into one thing creepier than empty energy.
Written and directed by Scottish filmmaker Bryan M. Ferguson (identified for his music video work with artists like Flying Lotus, in addition to all kinds of horror-infused shorts just like the self-amputation-obsessed “Flamingo”), the wraparound story units the tone for an anthology by which craft takes priority over content material. The CEO of a beverage firm is product-testing their new cola, Food regimen Phantasma, each can of which appears to include a demon from hell. Among the contributors benefit from the style greater than others, however all of them find yourself with their faces melting right into a black sludge after Factor-like tentacles launch out from the smooth drink and pry open their mouths — it’s principally a much less harmful model of 4 Loko.
Whereas the trials develop repetitive, and their anti-consumerist punchline of a payoff isn’t well worth the time it takes to get there, Ferguson shoots this devilish schtick with a nostalgic fuzziness that not solely appears nice, but in addition grounds “V/H/S/Halloween” in an endearingly passé form of Satanic Panic, when tainted foodstuff and speaking to strangers have been the worst that oldsters needed to fear about.
Anna Zlokovic’s slight however impressively staged “Coochie Coochie Coo” begins the complete segments on a robust observe by providing a little bit of native Halloween folklore that splits the distinction between foolish and scary. Two teenage women, too previous to trick-or-treat however decided to get pleasure from one final Halloween collectively earlier than they go their separate methods for faculty (the extra prudent one has already been accepted at Yale, though it’s solely the tip of October), snicker off studies of a malevolent spirit often known as “The Mommy,” whilst they tempt destiny by carrying silicone child masks. Guess who’s ready for them inside a home that not one of the different, youthful youngsters on the block can appear to see?
“The Mommy” isn’t a lot of an idea (what if a wronged lady got here again from the useless so as to elevate the children she was denied in life?), nevertheless it’s gruesomely well-realized right here, as Zlokovic focuses her consideration on the sordid particulars — viscous trails of curdled breast milk, haunting prosthetics, tragically repulsive creature design — so as to flesh out the enjoyable. And that the Mommy herself has such clear motivation turns into that a lot simpler to understand by the tip of Paco Plaza’s “Ut Supra Sic Infra,” by which the co-creator of the “REC” franchise cheats the omnibus’ idea for a disposable possession story that feels reverse-engineered from its gravity-defying remaining pictures.
Not less than “Enjoyable Measurement,” directed by “Too Many Cooks” auteur Casper Kelly, has the chutzpah to mess with expectations. Bent in direction of the deranged comedy that Kelly is thought for (if by no means fairly as giddily transgressive as his greatest work), the brief presents a cautionary story about some twentysomethings who defy a sweet bowl’s printed request to take just one per individual. Spoiler alert: That seems to be a mistake. Kelly’s exaggerated caricatures — two of whom are engaged, and certainly one of whom desperately needs they weren’t — are sucked into an industrial pocket realm the place they’re pursued by a humanoid gumball machine who needs to package deal their dismembered physique elements as items of sweet.
The premise may sound geared in direction of torture porn, however the execution cleaves so much nearer to gross-out absurdity (Kelly lavishes particular consideration on the method of mulching a bushy ballsack right into a chocolate deal with) as he teases the horror of selecting simply “one per individual” for the remainder of our lives. Later, Michelin Pitt-Norman and R.H. Norman’s “Dwelling Hang-out” will strike an identical if much less stomach-churning tone in its giddy father-son story of a DIY Halloween home the place the decorations come to life; it doesn’t add as much as various realizing laughs, however the spirit of the season programs by way of its severed arteries, as does the communal love that underpins a lot of the horror style — and continues to make the “V/H/S” sequence, and by extension the Shudder platform that hosts it, such a salve in these ghoulish occasions.
This film’s solely actual fright, nevertheless, is sandwiched between “Enjoyable Measurement” and “Dwelling Hang-out.” Rooted in actuality, the mere premise of Alex Ross Perry’s “Kidprint” is scarier and extra grounded than something the “V/H/S” franchise has seen in a very long time. Within the early ’90s, when this section takes place, the Nationwide Middle for Lacking and Exploited Kids established the Kidprint program, a free service that allowed dad and mom to deliver their kids to an area Blockbuster Video retailer and file little interviews — with the children holding a clapboard that ominously displayed their important statistics — as a taped ID they might give to the police if the children went lacking. I don’t know if this system ever facilitated the rescue of an kidnapped youngster, nevertheless it certain seems like extra of a mirrored image of suburban fear-mongering than it does a significant response to it.
The prospect of taking pictures these tapes is much more chilling to me — or at the very least much more palpable — than the thought of my youngsters getting snatched by a neighbor on Halloween evening, and Perry makes essentially the most of it with out utterly unbalancing the remainder of this in any other case fun-loving omnibus. Its plot is easy: An indie video retailer worker goes to retrieve a Kidprint tape after an area youngster goes lacking, solely to seek out that certainly one of his co-workers is a serial kidnapper whose pursuits aren’t restricted to killing individuals. Its impact is extra difficult.
Simply winking sufficient to get away with taking part in issues unnervingly straight, “Kidprint” returns the “V/H/S” sequence again to a few of its formative segments by eschewing the supernatural so as to exploit the inherent wrongness of low-grade video codecs (which have a tendency to appear all of the extra sinister within the context of banal house video footage). By advantage of wanting again into this sequence’ previous, “Kidprint” faucets into the explanation why the discovered footage franchise has a seemingly infinite future: All the things is scarier when a digicam is rolling.
Grade: C+
“V/H/S/Halloween” will likely be accessible to stream on Shudder beginning Friday, October 3.
Need to keep updated on IndieWire’s movie opinions and important ideas? Subscribe right here to our newly launched publication, In Overview by David Ehrlich, by which our Chief Movie Critic and Head Opinions Editor rounds up the most effective new opinions and streaming picks together with some unique musings — all solely accessible to subscribers.
