V/H/S puts a new spin on a horror cinema formula

A (new) turn of the (found footage) screw

by P. S.

For the Herald

Among horror cinema sub-genres, so called “found-footage” films have had quite a following as well as many naysayers ever since The Blair Witch Project started it all back in 1999 (in fact, to be precise, the first movie of this kind was Ruggero Deodato’s infamous Cannibal Holocaust, an Italian exploitation flick shot in 1980 that tells the story of a missing documentary film crew who had gone to the Amazon to film cannibal istic tribes).

But that’s an altogether different story, so back to Blair Witch now: to me, it’s a very effective and accomplished film, which fulfills the expectations it arises and, occasionally, does get scary. It was made on a shoestring budget and it truly paid off. Many other films that followed did not. The Paranormal Activity saga is just fine (not all the installments, though) but only at times there are truly tedious moments even in the good films. As yet another example, Cloverfield boasts one of the worst scripts ever, and yet is visually stunning and truly impressive on the big screen.

V/H/S would seem to be yet another found footage film, but this one has a twist to it. It is not groundbreaking (that would be stretching things), but it definitely has a flair all of its own. And provided you buy into the concept, there’s much to enjoy: good scares, ghostly images, unnerving and maddening sounds (get ready for lots of screaming), a good dose of violence, quite good effects used only when necessary, and a few memorable findings that give an overworked genre something different. And the gimmick of who’s filming it all and why he or she is doing it is pulled off with some wit for the most part, that is. The twist here is that this is an anthology of short films made by somewhat novel and moderately promising young filmmakers. So you get 6 short stories for the price of one full length feature film.

The first one is Tape 56 (directed by Adam Wingard and Radio Silence) and it’s the wraparound for the other five stories. Tape 56 tells the story of a group of misfits hired by an unknown third party to burglarize a desolate house and acquire a rare VHS tape. But they discover more found footage than they bargained for – the other VHS tapes are the five shorts that complete V/H/S. I won’t reveal much of what actually happens in Tape 56 (or in any of the other shorts, for that matter), for surprise is indeed a key element here. Then comes Amateur Night (directed by David Bruckner and Tie West), which concerns three young guys who go out for a wild night on the town. They end up bringing two young women back to their apartment. One of them falls asleep, whereas the other proves to be unexpectedly dangerous.

While Tape 56 gets interesting only towards the end, and is mostly an excuse to tell the other five stories, Amateur Night is probably the best of them all. Why the second woman does what she does is left unexplained, but I couldn’t care less since what matters here is the panic and desperation of the characters when confronted with a hideous death. For the first time in many years, it’s great to see characters reacting in a realistic manner, as people would react in real life, even if that includes making a couple of silly mistakes. First there’s a party, some sex, drunkards, and lots of laughter. Then, suddenly, comes mayhem and shocks aplenty.

The Sick Thing That Happened to Emily When She Was Younger (Joe Swanberg) involves a series of (often stationary) Skype video conversations between a man and a woman. The woman (the man’s girlfriend) is convinced that a peculiar entity is inside her house, perhaps the ghost of a child with which she hopes to communicate. The only thing I’ll say about this one is that it gets unpredictably cruel and you won’t see it coming at all, believe me. Then, there’s Second Honeymoon (David Bruckner and Tie West), which spins the tale of a couple’s vacation compromised by a mysterious intruder at night, of course. OK, this one sucks. It should have been discarded. Nothing much makes sense, there’s a lot of set up and almost no payoff.

Tuesday the 17th (Glenn McQuaid) focuses on a young woman who brings her friends out to a secluded spot in the woods where several murders once occurred but she never tells them what her real intentions are. This one can be somewhat hard to buy, but nonetheless it’s fun and a tad gruesome. It’s the only slasher in the pack, and, to me, it’s the second best of the bunch. Finally, 10/31/98 (Adam Wingard Radio Silence) concerns a group of friends who set out for a party dressed up in lame Halloween costumes, but instead of arriving at their intended destination find themselves in a haunted house at the absolute worst possible time. This one would be the second worst, not a total failure but close enough. There’s basically nothing here that could impress you at all – not even the ridiculous poltergeist activity.

So, on the plus side, the notion of an anthology of found footage horror films shot on VHS is cool enough to get you involved in a different experience. It’s a compendium of some well-known topics of horror movies, but rendered here under a different light. More than a handful of the images are frightening and hard to forget. And the stories do make sense in their perverted logic, of course. On the minus side, the honeymoon story is not needed at all, and if it hadn’t been included, the film as a whole would have a more agile rhythm. Not that it really drags, but often less is more, and this is one of those cases. Also, more tension would have been great, it would have turned V/H/S into a more gripping and compelling movie.

That said, don’t be discouraged by occasional negative reviews and go see it. V/H/S is not an innovative masterpiece, but it doesn’t intend to be one and that’s just fine. It’s a novelty that brings something good to a territory in need of renewal.