Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Rueben Martell
Starring: Sera-Lys McArthur, Madison Walsh, Julian Black Antelope, Samuel Marty
I tell you what, there is nothing like a snowbound horror film (SHF). No
scary movie is above the atmospheric enhancements that a thick layer of
frozen white water further imbues, not even Jaws I reckon.
Let the Right One In, The Thing, even dreck like Dreamcatcher (which would arguably be the
worst film ever made, if it were not for the snow which gives it an
automatic pass): yum yum yum. In horror inclement weather is in itself an
abstract character, which brings isolation, chills and an overriding ivory
aesthetic of sepulchral beauty to the genre - brrrrr! (While we’re on the
subject, let’s crack on with that mooted
Friday the 13th reboot which is set in winter, yeah lads?).
Vis-à-vis my predilection for the SHF, imagine my delight when
Don’t Say Its Name, Rueben Martell’s north Canadian set directorial debut with
co-writing credits shared by Gerald Wexler, opened with the
genuinely suspenseful and unsettling death of a teen girl in ice swirled
woods, as she is made the target of an unseen driver who stalks the poor
kid via dipped headlights cutting through the blizzard, before, brutally,
crushing her down into the thickening slush - yikes!
The stage is set for a beloved SHF...or is it? The major delight of
Don’t Say Its Name is its refreshing lack of fealty to
genre, and how it instead focuses on telling a detailed, human story,
weaving together disparate genre elements in a narrative which is as
enjoyable as it is surprising.
Copper Betty (Madison Walsh) and park ranger Stacey (Sera-Lys McArthur) are immediately on the case to find the hit and run killer and bring a
sense of order and safety back to the community. Problem is that soon
enough these are not the only other deaths on their hands: further bodies
are piling up in circumstances in which the victims die horribly and
beleaguered witnesses are framed. Unbeknownst to our leads, yet made
apparent to the audience in slickly produced horror sequences, the deaths
are the cause of a weird, supernatural energy represented within the
diegesis as a fisheye lensed bird’s eye point of view camera swooping down
and killing people to death.
What delights about Don’t Say Its Name however is how these
vivid scenes factor within the otherwise sober mien of the film, which is,
for the most part, an earnest drama concerning a close-knit indigenous
community facing real-life environmental threats and ongoing, all too
convincing, racism (this seems a good place to advise avoiding the
indiscreet imdb synopsis, btw). The horror is all the more abject for
seeming to invade the established rationality of this universe.
It is the interpersonal relationships between the well-drawn and
authentically inhabited characters which gives
Don’t Say Its Name its compelling edge, along with a
cracking, amusing script – a boffin character refers to a something
mentioned in philosophies, and another self-deprecatingly quips, "which
one? I’ve read SO many" - just these gentle, unforced witticisms to
balance the bloodshed.
Also genuine (in an era where we are supposed to feel grateful when a
decade old major franchise decides to finally feature a gay character -
well done!) is the film’s matriarchal dynamic, where it is women who hold
the fort, get things done and save the day (and, mild SPOILER, also
imperil the day in the first place), an aspect which is pleasingly a
feature of the narrative, and not the entire point.
Very occasional ropiness aside, the thoughtful storytelling of
Don’t Say Its Name, and the cross-genre pleasures of seeing these soapy characters combat
the polar chills of the SHF, proves a wintery joy. Wrap up warm.
Don't Say Its Name is on Prime
Video UK now.