So, this one’s a throwback. And an interesting one at that. He Never Died doesn’t concern itself as much with the plot (though there is one) as it does with following its brooding, strange lead character around as he ambles through his seemingly meaningless life. Exactly who is Jack? Who knows. He spends his days sleeping, playing bingo, and haunting the local diner – but he can’t seem to avoid getting involved, however accidentally and much to his annoyance, with other people’s lives. He’s got a trunk full of money and knives, a strange hearing problem, and can shrug off a gunshot like a mosquito bite. Which comes in handy now that the local mafia happens to be gunning for him. Why? Jack can’t remember and doesn’t especially care. Things only get more complicated with the introduction of a daughter from a long-past fling. It’s a return to the 90s anti-hero with updated one-liners and an appreciation for history’s many and varied boogeyman legends.
He Never Died is a fun experiment of what happens when you drop the archetypal 90s anti hero into a more realistic 2015, a place where Jack’s casual acquaintances try vainly to empathize with him and incorporate him into their lives, and the line between sociopath and boogeyman becomes increasingly thin. Jack doesn’t belong in this era. No one knows it better than he does. Though he calls himself Cain (“I’m in the bible, if that means anything“), Jack’s backstory and powers almost fit better with Beowulf’s monster – better known as Grendel. A lot of the film’s power comes from this ambiguity – Jack doesn’t know what he is and neither does the audience – and how the other characters react to him. He’s accused of being a lot of things, including a sociopath and a vampire, and it’s never made clear exactly where he stands.
Two things are clear. First, Jack is a murderer. And second, the plot desperately wants him to be a hero.
Jack disagrees with the hero bit. The best pieces in the film come from the divide between his cynical worldview and the film’s stubborn insistence on trying to redeem him. There’s a hilarious couple of scenes where Jack staggers around in the middle of the night trying to provoke the local thugs into attacking him, only to discover that none of them are in the mood to fight with an old man. His indignation and shock when he’s treated politely by the people he’s trying – not at all subtlety – to provoke is a testament to Henry Rollins’s wonderful acting skills. Jack would love the world of He Never Died to be as cynical and mean as he is. The fact that it’s filled with characters who – though deeply flawed – are essentially kind, empathetic people proves the film’s best moments.
On the technical end of things, He Never Died is well made, though I’m not fond of the choices made with the sound design. Jack seems to go through life with the soundtrack to an old battle playing in his head at all hours, which might have been interesting if it had some narrative weight backing it up. Instead it’s just…there. The story does falter in a few areas and takes a bit to really figure out what sort of tone it’s going for. But the acting is excellent (Booboo Stewart stole more than a few scenes) and the story goes in interesting, unexpected places. Give it a watch.
A bachelorette undergoes some strange transformations after being bitten by an unknown insect while on vacation. As her metamorphosis progresses, her life – and her increasingly tense relationship with her fiancé – begins to unravel. It’s The Fly mixed with some weird melodrama.
This one is pretty much the definition of a mixed bag. The tone keeps fluctuating between straight drama and 80s grindhouse without finding a consistent mix, the characterization is all over the place and some of the acting hugely over the top, but the monster effects are excellent, the cinematography is on point, and the sound design does a great job. I never really clicked with any of the characters or understood the dynamics underneath the various relationships, which was a shame, since there was plenty of territory that could have been explored.
There is one element of Bite that I’m unclear about, and that’s the rape subplot that – while relevant to the characters and arguably the true horror of the film – never comes to a satisfying conclusion. It also makes me uncomfortable that Bite, a film primarily about body horror, makes uses the plot point of a monstrous pregnancy in a woman that has so recently been raped – and for a time believes that everything she has experienced is related to that. Especially since Casey, the main character, eventually becomes a monster and goes on to commit monstrous, metaphorical rapes herself. There’s a lot of metaphorical stuff in Bite that’s never unpacked, which left me with some uncomfortable questions.
So, this one’s a mix. It’s got some wonderful camera work and monster effects, and some thematically questionable storylines. Explore at your discretion.
Every few years, some enterprising horror director decides that they’re going to tackle a story and do what no director has done before – manage to make the Chupacabra legend scary. Director Alastair Orr is the latest in a long line with Indigenous. To be fair, the film makes a solid attempt. The acting is decent, the locations well shot even if the editing gets chaotic towards the end, and the monster effects look good when shot from a distance or in silhouette – less so in the climatic battle, which featured too many close-up shots for its own good. The plot is your standard idiot tourists in peril story, where our group of intrepid and vaguely likable characters set off into the jungles of Panama while on vacation in search of a mythical waterfall – despite the warnings of the locals that the place is dangerous and off limits for a reason.
Up until the last twenty minutes, that is.
See, it turns out that one of our otherwise forgettable heroes is working on a social media app. And the SOS message he’s sent out has gone viral.
Now, this part had the potential to make Indigenous something special. For about twenty minutes, the film takes a good look at the power of the viral video – and the responses that the locals take to the events that have propelled them into accidental fame. The fact that the locals – including the police force – already knew about the monsters but didn’t do anything until a group of wealthy Americans go missing – with the entire world watching the situation – could have been an opportunity to discuss the role of privilege in disasters, as well as the politics behind public sympathy. Which tragedies get media attention and which are ignored? Might race and economics have something to do with that? Hmmm.
Unfortunately, this development comes too late in the film to really add anything to the story the conclusion feels as chaotic and forced as the editing. Indigenous has some interesting ideas, but sadly doesn’t spend the time to come to any conclusions about them. While I’m glad that these questions were posed in the first place, I do wish they’d been explored a bit as well.
In all honesty, Indigenous is a solid B offering. A decent film, but not quite creative enough to merit a second viewing.