Overwrought horror film on pandemic fails to truly scare
Deon Taylor is a fascinating figure, having forged a path as a Black filmmaker in Hollywood, independently producing and now, distributing, his films, and he seems to be the only person single-handedly keeping the midbudget adult thriller alive. He is rigorously focused on the craft of filmmaking, but he’s also obsessed with serving a multicultural audience that goes largely underserved by certain swaths of the industry. A pandemic was certainly not going to derail his mission, and in his latest film, the horror flick “Fear,” Taylor takes the pandemic head-on, utilizing our collective anxieties as the grist for his storytelling mill.
“Fear” is a COVID-19 movie, a contagion film and a haunted house story. The film would be a tortured metaphor for the ways in which we allow fear to rule our lives, and how we manifest what we focus on, but it’s not so much a metaphor as it is plainly and repeatedly stated throughout.
Joseph Sikora stars as horror novelist Rom, who takes his girlfriend, Bianca (Annie Ilonzeh), on a getaway in Northern California as a reprieve from lockdown. They arrive at the rustic Strawberry Lodge, and as he’s about to propose, he falters, instead revealing that he’s invited their friends to celebrate Bianca’s birthday. They’ve got the historical lodge to themselves for the weekend, and don’t worry about the creepy innkeeper who leaves them a terrible bottle of wine, or the detailed stories that Rom tells about the miners who tortured and killed Indigenous women, thought to be witches. Nope, nothing to worry about at all.
As the friends confess their phobias around the campfire, the story unfolds every which way. The fear of contagion and paranoia sets in, especially after a news report about a new coronavirus variant, and as Lou (rapper T.I.) becomes increasingly ill.
“Fear” relies on craft for creating atmosphere and tension — the sickly greenish handheld cinematography by Christopher Duskin, the pounding score by Geoff Zanelli and the impeccable sound design. But the script, by Taylor and John Ferry, proves that it is possible to have too many ideas for one film. Taylor’s other outings, like “The
Intruder” and “Black and Blue,” were sleeker and more streamlined high-concept projects; in “Fear,” it feels like he’s throwing everything at the wall, not to see if it sticks, but because he so enthusiastically wants to do it all. But the screenplay doesn’t get deep enough with the characters, or allow anything to breathe.
Deadliest of all, “Fear” is just not scary. The jump scares don’t land, the fears themselves are a bit silly and it feels like Taylor is holding back for the majority of the run time. We’re ahead of these characters, who are too dumb to root for (with the exception of Bianca) and playing catch-up at the same time, without being clued in to their motivations at all. It doesn’t start ripping until the last few minutes.
Taylor’s goal with
“Fear” is to argue that we shouldn’t let fear overrun our lives, but he doesn’t so much as show why that is rather than just repeat it. The film proves its opposite argument, that, in moderation, fear can be a good thing.
MPA rating: R (for bloody violence and language) Running time: 1:40
How to watch: In theaters