THE ELDERLY
Following the sudden suicide of his wife, Manuel begins acting violently strange. Soon a series of paranormal events has all of the local elderly behaving oddly. They all seem to know something the young do not – paired with a lust for blood.
From the directing duo of the gooeytastic Spanish horror film The Passenger, Raúl Cerezo and Fernando González Gómez serve audiences their latest original story, THE ELDERLY.
Family tension grows after the unexpected suicide of the family matriarch. Manuel begrudgingly moves in with his son, granddaughter, and bitter daughter-in-law. As the temperatures outside rise, so does the mind-boggling behavior of Manuel and the rest of the octogenarian population.
Ignacio Aguilar‘s cinematography is breathtaking. Closeups, panning, overhead shots, each take meticulously planned for maximum impact. The visual trickery is out of this world. The score is unsettling, with its string-heavy intensity mixed with hauntingly written love standards.
A shockingly violent moment halfway through jolts an audience now accustomed to the eerie din of quietly disturbing imagery. The Elderly shines in the power of visual suggestion, shadow play, reflections, and long lingering takes.
The slow-burn film boasts a brutal and traumatizing, no-holds-bar climax. Otherworldly communication connects to climbing temperatures. The hotter the temp, the more intense the violence. The Elderly taps into the idea of the older generation feeling unheard and dismissed. It also utilizes classic supernatural tropes, adding one shocking last frame.
Distribution Company: Dark Star Pictures
Theatrical Release Date: October 13, 2023
VOD & Blu-Ray Release Date: October 31, 2023
Directors: Raúl Cerezo, Fernando González Gómez
Writers: Raúl Cerezo, Javier Trigales, Rubén Sánchez Trigos
Runtime: 95 Minutes
Starring: Zorion Eguileor, Gustavo Salmerón, Paula Gallego, Irene Anula, Juan Acedo, Ángela Gamonal
Director John McPhail and screenwriter Mike Van Waes had the tricky job of taking Adam Ellis‘ real-life viral Twitter feed and translating it for the big screen. If you don’t know the “Dear David” story, let me sum it up. Cartoonist Adam Ellis starts to document the haunting of his apartment. Things get weirder each night, culminating in photographs of this little boy with a caved-in skull dropping onto Adam’s bed. It was truly terrifying reading the thread. I remember sweating as the incidents became creepier and more intense. It was an honest-to-goodness viral moment. This week, DEAR DAVID moves from small screens to movie screens, and the results are mostly comparable.
The film boasts amazingly timed jump scares. Let’s give a brilliant slow clap for editors David Arthur and Glenn Garland. The script is especially relevant in our ongoing age of vitriolic online engagement. It is also a mystery wrapped in a horror movie, using a personal connection about self-worth. If you know the Dear David canon, it might be better to separate the two. Did I shout with glee when the original “David” drawing appeared? Yup. If I’m being entirely honest, the climax feels a touch hokey, but the final scene brings some redemption. DEAR DAVID is inarguably intriguing. I needed to know how McPhail would expand upon the genuinely disturbing origin material, so there’s no denying I was along for the ride. Genre fans will eat this up.
LAST STRAW
Following the death of her mother and in her father’s footsteps, Lou dreams of becoming a firefighter EMT. On her first night on the job, things go haywire when she and her colleagues become the targets of a killer.
Jeremy Piven plays Lou’s super supportive father, Patrick. But his past puts his daughter in direct sight of the killer. Piven is fantastic. He is a master at his craft, no doubt. Elena Kampouris plays Lou with a solid balance of unresolved trauma and tenacity. She does her best within the convoluted premise to keep us emotionally invested. She deserved to show off more of her physical badassery. I could see her owning a post-apocalyptic role with ease. The film’s best scenes are the climatic mano-a-mano battles.
It is not an exaggeration to say I yelled, “Oh Shit,” following the first kill. I must hand it to McNamara here, as each is different and brutal. However, the film has an overreaching Saw (in its superfluous middle sequels) vibe, both in its performances and overly complicated premise. The killer wears a David mask and scrawls Latin phrases on the walls, placing sporadic traps and puzzles, which culminates in a need to, quite literally, explain the motive. VINDICTA is sort of an amalgamation of past films. Watch it for Kampouris, but a sequel should not be entertained.
Folk horror goes hard in this tale of possession and superstition. Writer-director Demian Rugna‘s WHEN EVIL LURKS pits fear and skepticism against an unrelenting demonic force. That’s only the beginning. 
The script reveals itself in bits and pieces, with the plot having ties to some apocalyptic lore affecting entire towns. We learn of a set of rules that are cannon to this happening from generations preceding our main characters. Take David Robert Mitchell’s IT FOLLOWS, add a page out of Stephen King‘s IT, and you’ll begin to understand what you’re dealing with. Somehow, WHEN EVIL LURKS is nastier and even more shocking. The script also suggests that cities were targets first, but there is also an implication that class is somehow involved. There are also what amounts to slayers, a select group of people who confront the evil known as “Cleaners.” There is so much meat on the bone in this script that despite the urge to hide your eyes, it compels you to watch it unfold.
One standout performance comes from Emilio Vodanovich as Jari, Pedro’s autistic son. As a mother of a child on the spectrum, I genuinely believed they had cast an actor with autism. It is a startling performance. Demian Soloman gives Jimi an authentic heart. A lot is going on behind those eyes. Ezequiel Rodríguez has your heart in your throat from beginning to end. His portrayal of Pedro runs the emotional gambit. He nails it. Rugna gives Jimi and Pedro enough depth and trauma that Soloman and Rodríguez could pull off a sequel in a heartbeat. 
Pablo Fuu‘s music is brilliantly disturbing, particularly in the repeated hard rock guitar riff. Holy Special FX, Batman! WHEN EVIL LURKS pulls no punches with the visual ick. Marcos Berta‘s work is gag-inducing and diabolical. It makes you angry and nauseous. The dialogue is often vile and biting but entirely hypnotizing as you discover more. The brutality grows from one scene to the next. WHEN EVIL LURKS is easily one of the most deranged films of the year. Rugna has broken all the rules. There is no coming back from this one.
The noteworthy turn comes from Cindy’s neighbor Doc Zuess. John Bingham, whose character is reminiscent of Roberts Blossom from Home Alone, is brilliant. His performance legitimizes The Mean One, bringing it out of its Hallmark moments.
1991, in the middle of a Massachusetts cornfield, open every day in October, Dave Bertolino‘s Spooky World was a horror con and a theme park. It was the first dedicated haunted attraction, paving the way for every modern-day, big-name fright night across the country. Built on a dollar and a dream, Spooky World grew more popular and went through numerous iterations. As one of the first featured guests, Tom Savini’s direct influence on Spookyworld shifted from a homegrown haunted hayride to a proper frightening experience within a year, with Tom building his own branded Haunted House. The busier the park, the more elaborate and inventive Bertolino had to become.
The townspeople of Berlin had a fantastic relationship with Bertolino. Bringing jobs, money, and recognition to a sleepy farming town. But, not everyone was thrilled with the boundary-pushing additions, playing politics and making Bertilino’s job harder. That’s not to say that his antics and ideas came without skepticism from within.
Growing up in northern Connecticut, I cannot believe I never ventured up the Spooky World as a self-proclaimed Halloween addict and horror fanatic. I’m thankful the park ever existed, and its humble and exciting existence spread like wildfire so that global genre fans could care and scare together.
Opportunity, loyalty, guilt, and greed drive THE WAIT (La Espera) headlong into tragedy. F. Javier Gutierrez‘s 2023 Fantastic Fest film takes our protagonist on a torturous journey into madness. To save his flailing marriage, Eladio agrees to take cash under the table to break the rules. The consequences are deadly. When the drink takes over his existence, visions and strange occurrences send him on a wild goose chase for redemption and salvation.
Striking sun-baked cinematography juxtaposed with nightmare scenarios makes for a visually splendid treat for genre fans. The first third of the film lies firmly in the classic Western genre. The sudden flip into supernatural horror is jarring, but our leading man, Victor Clavijo, has you tied in knots on his emotional journey and the mystery at hand. One nightmarish torment scene boasts fantastic practical and Special FX makeup. The mystery grows steadily. The motive is a slow burn, though it does pay off. THE WAIT (La Espera) is a solid folk horror entry and an even more niche win for the Western horror subgenre.
Riley Rose Critchlow gives a particularly entrancing performance. Their living vs. dead personalities are vastly different but equally grin-inducing. Critchlow captures a relatable sadness, leaving a lasting impression. 
The subtle creepiness is just enough to teeter on the edge, as the film is more drama than your typical horror. THE JESSICA CABIN is a spectacular entry into the LGBTQIA+ genre, perfectly melding comedy, culture, and complex storyline. The film looks at mental health in a stunningly nuanced way. It is crazy charming and superbly funny, pushing moral boundaries while asking existential questions. Seek it out.
Michael Reagan plays Tyler Wilson. Reagan balances a toxic masculinity that hides behind a starving artist’s desire. His dismissive intolerance is loathsome, fueled by Tyler’s not-so-secret problem with alcohol. Tedra Millan gives Jen relatability with her compounding worrying. Jen has a lot on her plate, and like most women, her need to solve all the world’s problems consumes her. Written on her face and the pace of her breathing, it’s a visceral feeling.
This film is an extraordinary story of a power struggle that takes aim at capitalism and cleverly pits mental health against self-preservation. GHOSTS OF THE VOID leaves us with questions of morality and equal parts relief and dread.
Dana Berger plays Jenn with an exasperated aura. She is a woman who has decided that this relationship is over. Berger’s emotional journey is vastly different from her co-star Max Woertendyke, playing Dan. He has some fight left in him as to their marriage. That comes with a caveat of information as the film rolls on. Woertendyke nails the comedy and the horror. Their remarkable chemistry and Elcar’s writing earn a second viewing. The editing is impressive. I wish I could have been in the room while Elcar was storyboarding. The coordinated chaos is delicious. The dialogue is honest and biting, even set against the mysterious goings-on. It’s undeniably ballsy. 
A therapy session from hell, BRIGHTWOOD taunts our protagonists and the audience with macabre twists and turns, dizzying us with theories. Its shocking final reveal (which is a double doozy) seemingly suggests that, in this environment, compromise and teamwork are the only way forward, for better or for worse. No spoilers from me. It’s dark as hell.
Cinematographer Hazem Berrabah offers striking juxtaposing visuals of sheep grazing on open fields next to grey concrete structures. Half-built complexes with their innumerable exposed rebar present like monsters bearing sharp teeth and long claws. 
The defiance by detectives keeps your attention steady. No one wants to be told they cannot do their job. Performances from stars Fatma Oussaifi and Mohamed Houcine Grayaa are spellbinding. Their moody and grounded work feels personal and devastating. Oussaifi’s reaction to the overwhelming amount of misogyny hits hard. The writing is hard to shake, a compliment for writer-director Youssef Chebbi and co-writer François-Michel Allegrini.
The number of King’s books that jumped from page to screen is astounding. As a kid in the 80s, like many of the filmmakers in the doc, I grew up seeing King’s books on my family’s shelf but immersed myself in the films first. The kids in Stand By Me and IT became my peers. I rented The Shining, Creepshow, and Pet Sementary ad nauseum. By the time 1996 rolled around, I remembered the glee I experienced when I discovered The Green Mile in the grocery store checkout aisle. 
While we don’t hear from King directly, we see stills and videos of Stephen on the sets of his adaptations. Filmmakers like Greg Nicotero, Mike Flanagan, David Carson, Taylor Hackford, Tom Holland, John Harrison, Mick Garris, and Frank Darabont share how King’s books inspired their work. They speak to the overwhelming readability of small-town horror. King singlehandedly made Maine an unlikely horror destination. I love that everyone addresses The Shining controversy. Behind-the-scenes footage and anecdotes explain the breakdown between the book and the film. Kubrick obliterates Jack Torrance’s humanity that fans of the book (King, most of all) hate. 
King’s deep dive into the political landscape has always existed. The film explores his ability to explore universal truths, whether religion, race, or greed, and make characters lovable or loathsome based on their moral compass. In the same way, we joke about The Simpsons‘ writers predicting the future, Stephen King uses the global landscape to create villains and heroes that shake us to our core. Translating that from page to screen sometimes takes a slight adjustment. The best filmmakers always ask Steve first. 
For horror fans, KING ON SCREEN is like a kid coming home with a Halloween candy haul that would put you in a coma. For fans of his books, it’s like changing costumes and going out for round two. It’s delicious fun, no matter how cliche you might find the Easter egg-filled bookend scenes. They play like a Where’s Waldo for readers and genre fans alike. (I loved it.) So, turn the lights down and make popcorn. KING ON SCREEN scares up our nostalgia and celebrates a storytelling master.
Les Dents Du Bonheur (Sweet Tooth)
Utterly fascinating, this documentary horror hybrid effectively puts the fear of God into the audience. The film begins by sharing the history of each incarnation of what we now refer to as the “Ring” security camera, each inspired by a recurring nightmare. Historical recounting gets the creepy treatment with a random subject’s security footage playing in its fisheye lens version behind the storytelling text. There is no formal dialogue. This voyeuristic nightmare is unlike anything we’ve seen before, featuring videos of everything from natural disasters to doorstep theft and animal encounters to delivery people behaving badly and creatively.
The score is bone-chilling, with its piano cords striking. It’s something straight out of hell. But, the film is even scarier than it initially appears when we learn the global and societal impact of advancing technology. Cinematic tropes alone reflect the world’s potential terror. Fantasia 2023 audiences get a taste of a film that would be a perfect Fall statement at MoMA. HOME INVASION is exceedingly disturbing. If anything, it reminds you how quickly the scales of good and evil tip. It will haunt you.
The dizzying camerawork from cinematographer Rui Poças and ominous original music from Shida Shahabi raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Sharp sound design by Branko Neskov, which includes podcast audio, is a clever device. As a National Park After Dark fan, this was a slick addition to Sutherland’s narrative style. Editor Alexander Amick furthers Lennon’s isolation amid flashbacks and ghoulish visuals that muddy the lines of reality. It is the ultimate manipulation. All of these elements come together for an atmospheric stranglehold of fear. LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP holds you tightly, only momentarily loosening its grip for minutes at a time. With a script that keeps you guessing at every turn, Fantasia is a uniquely crafted atmospheric journey into psychological terror.
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