Review by
Sue Finn
Directed by: Leroy Kincaide
Starring: Bethan Waller, Hella Stichlmair, Joe James, Tara Hoyos-Martinez, Johnny
Fleming, Deborah Blake, David Kerr
There’s a disturbance in a suburban house, where it’s all sombre grey
walls and ominously portentous art, but there’s a bloody room, which a
priest enters grimly.
This is the pre-credits scene, and then we are thrust into the world of
Lucy and Ben (Bethan Waller and Johnny Fleming), a couple
who, at the beginning at least, have a sweet, snappy rapport that’s
believable.
After minimal time is spent establishing their characters, strange things
start happening in the house. Unfortunately only Lucy seems to see them,
trapped in their home as she is while finishing her dissertation.
Lucy starts to see a shape - a hatted man in a raincoat that appears as a
shadowy figure just in hidden corners or doorways (though she manages to
capture him in a photo which seems like a silly direction for the film to
go in considering it's summarily dropped as a story beat, when in reality
it would have been a big deal).
After finding no comfort in sharing this information with her partner, who
dismisses it from the outset, she tells her best friend, who in turn
shares a story from her youth about a witch that can inhabit places where
relationships are bad.
As time goes on, Lucy's mental health declines as her relationship breaks
down and ‘the shadow’ enjoys tormenting her.
It transpires that her past involves fervently religious parents who
abused her in their belief that she needed God's help in defeating her
‘other’-seeing abilities.
She eventually contacts the inevitable priest who becomes involved in the
shenanigans at the house. There’s some body-horror, an exorcism or two,
the usual…
As written and directed by Leroy Kincaide, this is an oddly slow
movie that seems to drag its feet for the majority of the runtime; the
pace is doddering at best, case in point - a scene near the end of the
film when the action is ramping up only to shudder to a halt while two
ministers discuss their faith over an extraordinarily testing five minutes
of just talking heads.
The direction is serviceable, with the production design nicely minimal
with a few striking pieces adding visual interest at least, and one or two
well realised scenes of practical effects.
A strong central performance by Waller is eye-catching but her support
players are fairly average across the board. This one also really suffers
from an underused soundtrack which might have helped build an almost
completely absent atmosphere. The screenplay is given to some flowery
language and tells a story we have all seen before; and its insistence on
throwing everything in (supernatural, psychological, spiritual, night
terrors, grief, childhood trauma) and seeking no real resolution, just
feels muddied by the film’s finale.
In the end, despite all its threads, this is essentially a run of the mill
demonic possession story with nothing new to say on the well-worn subject.
The Last Rite is on US/CAN VOD from
November 26th. A UK/ROI release has yet to be announced.
