Wer (2013)

Wer opens to a jarring, brutal beat and continues on with the song right until the end. This is a movie that returns to the brutality of the early werewolf legends, cutting out the more recent attempts at humanizing the monster, or making the story more palatable to audiences. Make no mistake, Wer is absolutely relentless in its brutality. To my surprise, I also found it to be well plotted and extensively researched. Despite a few egregious jump-scares, Wer is one of the better werewolf films to be released in the last ten years.

The plot is deceptively simple. An American family has been attacked while on vacation in France. A local man, Talan Gwynek, has been arrested for the crime, all though the evidence is shaky at best, and the local police strangely reluctant to cooperate. The attorney hired to represent Talan is mounting a defense arguing that the family was killed in an animal attack and that Talan was a convenient (and, it turns out, extremely profitable) scapegoat. However, things are never as clear-cut as they seem.

I’d argue that Wer is one of director William Brent Bell’s more thought out projects, though it loses momentum and a lot of its coherence in the second half. For better or worse, Wer does its best work in the first half of the film. The plotting is tighter, the dialog more nuanced, and the tension develops in natural ways.

Though this is not spelled out in the film, the circumstances of Talan’s case mirror those of several historical “werewolf” murders. It’s established early on that Talan is disabled, suffering from undiagnosed porphyria, and has been socially isolated almost his entire life due to the physical symptoms of the disease (limited mobility, excessive hair growth, seizures, etc.). Additionally, Talan’s family is composed of immigrants from Romania, not native Frenchmen. Though Talan appears fairly intelligent and speaks near perfect English, he is not especially educated. It also becomes apparent that his family is relatively poor – with an interesting caveat. While the Gwyneks themselves don’t have a lot of money, their land is extremely valuable, and the surrounding community would benefit greatly if it were to be sold. However, the Gwyneks refuse to do so. This, added with the fact that Talan’s father died under extremely suspicious conditions, gives the surrounding community no reason to love Talan and every reason to want him gone.

In essence, what we have is a poor, socially isolated family in a country that is not especially known for its tolerance of immigrants, surrounded by a community that would benefit financially from their expulsion. The situation resembles the one faced by Giles Garnier, often called the Werewolf of Dole. Garnier was accused and eventually confessed to killing at least four children in 1572. He was found guilty and executed, along with his wife. Garnier was a poor man of limited means, socially isolated, and disliked by his community. It was also possible that he was mentally ill. It also resembles the situation faced by Peter Stumpp, the Werewolf of Bedburg, in 1589. Peter Stumpp was a German farmer, and a fairly well to do Protestant in a time and place where Protestants were not well liked. Peter Stumpp was also disabled, missing a hand from a farming accident. It is likely “Stumpp” was a nickname referring to the injury, rather than his given name. He confessed under torture to killing fourteen children and two women, and was later executed in 1598, along with his entire family.

Now, whether or not these men were serial killers is debatable. Certainly there were deaths that occurred in these time periods, but whether beasts or these specific men were involved cannot be known for certain. Too much time has passed. However, what we can know is that the circumstances involving these two historical cases mirror the fictional case in Wer quite closely. Though this is not spelled out in the film, it’s clear that a great deal of research went into the story.

Curiously, both Giles Garnier and Talan are French. It’s unclear exactly where the events of Wer are meant to have taken place, but I find it significant that they occurred in the same country. For what it’s worth, the film was shot in Romania, likely for financial reasons. Draw your own connections.

To its credit, Wer doesn’t shy away the complicating factors surrounding the case. It’s clear from the beginning that the community stands to benefit from Talan’s conviction – the payoff being in the millions if the family relinquishes the land, which they may have to do anyway in order to pay the legal bills. It’s also clear that Talan’s isolation, disability, and limited social skills leave him in a difficult position; in essence, he’s presented as a tempting target, with few means of defending himself. Additionally, there are the jurisdictional complications with accusing a French citizen (especially one with immigrant parents) of the murder of three American citizens on French soil. The characters deal with these issues as they pop up in ways that allow for natural character development and cohesive world building. In the first half of this film, we have a very clear picture of who these people are, the stakes they face, and how their world operates.

The second half of Wer challenges this a bit. While I’m the last person to be arguing against creating sympathetic villains, Talan’s shift from sympathetic plot device to violent, murderous plot device comes too quickly to be effectively processed, and not enough of the details of his story are wrapped up before the carnage starts showing up. Which is a problem here, because Wer unfortunately lets itself get distracted by the brutality of the gore, and forgets to spend time on the more delicate details of the plot. Now, this move does have its advantages; the scenes of chaos are beautifully and effectively shot and I enjoyed the experience of watching them in the moment. The audience gets pulled into the chaos right alongside the characters, something few movies manage to accomplish. However, Wer doesn’t seem to know how to pull itself back on track and return to more cohesive storytelling after the fact. Too many questions are left unanswered, and none of the character arcs are completed.

I’m also curious about the choice to make Talan guilty of the crimes, despite (or perhaps because of) the importance that Wer placed on understanding his precarious social situation. It’s clear from the beginning that Talan was targeted because he, for various reasons, made for a convenient scapegoat. It’s also left unclear whether or not Talan even understood his own actions, or had any recollection of the murders. Wer establishes that at least one trigger for the werewolf transformation is Talan’s seizures – is he in control? To what extent? The audience just doesn’t know. This complicates the story, as we have no idea if Talan (and everyone else around him) is a tragic victim of his disease, or if he finally snapped under the pressing reality of his situation. Wer made a choice to leave that ambiguous, a move I’m not fond of.

For all its nuance in the beginning, Wer comes dangerously close to falling into stereotypes about disability, immigration, and poverty being directly related to violent and depraved behavior. While I don’t believe this was the intention of the director, the sloppiness of the second half gives the film an unfortunate reading of the situation. As filmmakers, we have an obligation to realize what we are saying with our art, and how it might be interpreted. Fiction has been a way for people to gage the acceptability of their beliefs and actions since the invention of storytelling; the things we say have influence on the society around us, whether we realize it or not. Our stories, even the ones about werewolves, are never without impact. Wer’s use of historical cases complicates this even further.

Was this intentional? Maybe, maybe not. I’d go out on a limb and say most filmmakers don’t create stories with the intent of causing harm to anyone. And on the whole, Wer doesn’t do anything terribly egregious – it doesn’t indicate that immigrants or poor people are inherently violent. However, Wer does fit into a pattern of stereotypes in storytelling that have a historical basis; after a while, these things add up. And they have an impact.

So, what does that mean about the movie? Honestly, that’s up to you. I’ve seen films that are intentionally and blatantly racist, or otherwise harmful to minority groups. Wer is not one of those. It’s a thoughtful, carefully plotted story, and a fun watch. However, the stereotypes it eventually falls into have a long and troubled history, which should be kept in mind. These things shouldn’t prevent anyone from enjoying the film, but it is important to realize that they do have an impact and can – in great enough number – cause harm to real, living people. Stereotypes influence how we view the world, which impacts how we treat people. Keep that in mind.

Technically speaking, Wer takes more than a few risks, blending first person shaky-cams and an aborted, confusing soundtrack to convey the emotional situations that the characters find themselves in. The camera works as a direct indicator of the emotional read of whatever scene it happens to be shooting, instead of an unbiased observer. The soundtrack fades in and out, though this works surprisingly well in Wer.

The musician Brian Scott O’Connor presents a subdued, careful performance of Talan, and surprising amount of nuance given that Wer is apparently his first film. It’s a rare actor that can convincingly portray a nearly silent character for the length of a feature film, but O’Conner pulls it off. Relying entirely on physicality in lieu of dialog is a difficult skill, and one that many actors – however seasoned – tend to struggle with. This role bodes well for O’Conner’s acting resume, should he choose to continue with it. I hope to see him acting again, as he had a great screen presence. That being said, the script doesn’t give him nearly enough to do in the second half, essentially abandoning his character arc in favor of chasing the gore.

In general, Wer has interesting, though flawed, things to say, and it’s a fun watch besides. I very much recommend it, though ask that you give it some critical thought afterwards.



Let Us Prey (2014)

A rookie police officer comes back to her childhood home to start her job, only to discover that Murphy’s Law applies even harder in small towns filled with ugly secrets: everything that can go wrong, will. In spades. PC. Rachel Heggie starts what should be a quiet night bringing in a teenager for hitting a pedestrian – only for said pedestrian to vanish without a trace, leaving only bloodstained headlights behind. As the night goes on, the stranger appears again and again, connected to a series of violent crimes that he seems to know too much about. Being the rookie, Heggie is left alone at the station to watch over the inhabitants of the jail, with the mysterious pedestrian who seems to know far more than he should about their darkest secrets, and a flock of screaming ravens that seem to gather right before disaster strikes.


Things get worse from there.


Given the religious imagery at play in the trailer, I went into Let Us Prey expecting to see a film choked full of biblical righteousness, but that’s not the direction the story goes in. The stranger – identified only as Six, in reference to his cell number – even has a discussion with Heggie over the expectation that dogma is influencing his actions. At its heart, Let Us Prey wants to talk about vengeance – the biblical sort, minus any specific religion or even belief to back it up. Though the film never explicitly states who – or what – Six is, his self-described “job” is to gather the souls of the wicked, usually by causing their horrible death in retribution for whatever vicious secret they’re hiding. And this small town has so many. Interesting, Six never seems inclined to justify himself or excuse any of the things he allows to happen. That is not his role in the story. He has the opportunity to save people throughout the film, save them from horrible fates, and never does. Instead, Six is a figure of brutal vengeance, striking down with look and the twirl of a wooden match. There is no nuance there. Six represents vengeance; nothing else.


That alone is fascinating. Revenge is a popular theme in all kinds of stories, especially film. However, I’ve noticed that the stories tend to go in two directions: the vengeance is justified, or the vengeance makes the victim just as bad or worse than the target of their rage. There is little to no middle ground. Let Us Prey is one of the few films I’ve found that explicitly explores this. While the people that Six targets clearly deserve what comes to them, his actions have a tendency to cause extensive collateral damage – or if not directly cause it, then allow their deaths to happen. At least eight people died over the course of Let Us Prey who – so far as the audience knows – didn’t do anything wrong, except for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. So, is vengeance right or wrong? Or, more specifically, is violent retribution – the messy, biblical kind – ever justified?


Well, that’s up for interpretation. Nearly every character in the film has an opinion. Let Us Prey gives us a figure of seemingly righteous vengeance who also causes immense harm to the people around him, and leaves the audience to decide where they stand with him. In that way, Six is one of the more interesting horror movie villains – what he represents isn’t simple. And there may not be one answer. I appreciate that Let Us Prey didn’t try to force one on the audience, even though the characters eventually came to their own conclusions within the story.


In short, Let Us Prey gave me a lot to think about. It developed its own sense of mythology and iconography without getting stuck on a warped understanding of Christianity, and created some truly horrifying moments with a sparse set. Let Us Prey is beautifully shot and edited with a thoughtful touch. It also has one of the most beautiful, understated openings of any movie I’ve seen recently. This is also director Brian O’Malley’s first feature length film, which belies its tight production. This is not a film that stumbles often. I look forward to seeing more of O’Malley’s work after finishing Let Us Prey; he’s one to watch.


See this one. It’s worth the time.

Kristy (2014)

A young college student at the end of her rope finds herself alone on campus during Thanksgiving Break, and under siege by a violent cult. A dark, moody twist on the home invasion subgenre that can’t quite manage to find its footing before the end.

To be sure, Oliver Blackburn’s film is a technical achievement; the shots are beautifully composed and Haley Bennett delivers a smart, understated portrayal of the lead, Justine. The soundtrack felt a bit on the nose at times, as did some of the camera work, but I thought it made for a compelling visual image. It’s rare that I see a film that manages to convey such an eerie sense of isolation and silence in an industrial space like a college campus. Again, the camera work and some of the sound effects pushed a little too hard – the audience can make its own conclusions, people – as if the director thought that the point was too vague to catch. A scene that comes to mind is the close up on a collage of photographs with the eyes scratched out, which the camera lingers on for several seconds too long to really add any atmosphere.

Which, if we’re being honest, indicates a larger problem with the film.

See, Kristy has things to say about isolation and appearances, but doesn’t trust that the audience will understand the point. Justine is targeted because on the surface, she appears to have it all. She goes to a fancy college (she’s in horrible debt and afraid of losing her scholarship), drives an expensive car (it belongs to her roommate), and has a circle of good friends (who leave her alone on the holidays). Kristy seemed more interested in giving fragmented, confusing views of the beliefs that the cultists chasing Justine hold without really exploring any of the themes it has brought up. We have a “blessed” victim targeted by cultists who resent her apparent success – except that the victim’s life turns out to have some darker undercurrents. This should have made for some excellent tension.

Only problem? Kristy doesn’t do anything with this. The themes just sit there, leaving the film as an extended cat and mouse chase as Justine eventually outsmarts her pursuers and – as expected – triumphs over them. Yay? Justine is sympathetic enough as a protagonist and has an excellent screen presence, so the audience wants her to survive, but Kristy doesn’t really have anything to say after she does. Its interesting when compared to other home invasion films, especially with it’s themes about appearances and privilege, but doesn’t explore them enough to stand on its own. It’s worth seeing if you’re interesting in home invasion films and where the subgenre is going, but don’t expect anything mind blowing.