The V/H/S films, as ever true in horror anthologies, are met with timid reception; they are at best uneven compilations of short feature-works by up-and-coming horror filmmakers. It seems a safe presumption that such a franchise can only be the brainchild of genre liberals and bored experimentalists who, by extension, challenge the genre’s constraints whilst simultaneously embracing a more insistent set of its own. In other words, the V/H/S films have had its highs and lows: the original film V/H/S, for instance, is driven by the same sincerity for horror that The Blair Witch Project has; whilst V/H/S/2 (a.k.a. s-V/H/S) is all about aesthetic and storytelling refinement in found-footage horror.
Going on its third entry V/H/S: Viral, so much of my confidence is lost. The whole lot feels two steps backward from sincerely inducing frights and a nudge-in to aestheticizing its sub-genre past a certain degree.
It is mainly schlock (save for the middle segment—a pervasive multi-dimensional horror-sci-fi by Spanish filmmaker Nacho Vigalondo), forcing in the idea of fame-obsession amongst the Generation Twerk. In the framing arc “Vicious Circles,” tweens are on-point with their camera at all things shareable. Be it their girlfriend’s bumpy front or police car chases. There is one scene in which one dimwit comically befalls to his doom as he was trying to record an ice cream truck being chased by police patrol. Of all segments in the film, this from Marcel Sarmiento, “Circles” feels most concerned and outward about this ‘excess’ of social media, yet is also most excruciatingly incoherent and littered with static and disintegrating video that it struggles to communicate very well its decided message.
The succeeding three short features are appreciatively more subtle in this supposed ‘obsession’ of a generation. Gregg Bishop’s “Dante the Great” is a sneaky faux-doc about an overnight-successful illusionist who apparently had made a deal with the Devil. It is a fun and indulgent segment, if somewhat bitty; essentially a collection of clips narrating the life of the ‘magician’ in question, playing out like one of those Lifetime television-documentaries. Due to this framework Bishop finds opportunities to sneak in all sorts of elements only appropriate for a film about Magic, and also allows only very sparing fright.
Vigalondo’s “Parallel Monsters,” the film’s not-even-close comparative to last year’s phenomenal “Safe Haven,” is a mysterious piece, replete with perverse inquiries such as feeling alien under one’s own skin. The setup is simple: a Spanish scientist swaps dimensions with another version of himself, only to discover an indifferent world, one that has a horrific way of sexual intercourse fit to the folks in that dimension and their hideous genitalia. It is worth to note that “Safe Haven” director Timo Tjajhanto has depicted sexual activity in resembling twistedness” in an even shorter and far superior work called “Libido” (click here to watch!) which he contributed to the expansive horror anthology The ABCs of Death. Regardless, the segment is the best in the film, the act of confiding with your different dimension-self a la Strangers on a Train is equal to confiding with the Devil (it is a recurring theme in the film, if that helps with the incoherence of the whole lot). Towards the end there is a domestic cry in both dimensions which, while unsubtle, is effective. (Do I hear a ‘monster genitalia FTW’?!)
Finally, the short feature by Justin Benson and Aaron Scott Moorhead called “Bonestorm” is at the very least thematically in-line with the film, both in that it is yet again about the occult and that it is shot in cameras mounted on skater helmets, recreating a ‘feel’ of skating videos ubiquitous in YouTube. The story, if it is at all that important, surrounds a group of skaters who drive across the border to find a decent place to skate. Side note: these kids are dumb enough to choose one that has many occult symbols drawn all over. And so we are met with a trippy, gruesome segment about bored kids on a gang war against possessed skeletons.
These segments are clearly meant to reinvigorate the sub-genre strictly, it seems, in rethinking ways of virtually presenting its stories—a welcome feat, except fright and story are made the expense. If this is the franchise’s trajectory, there is an alarming chance that fans might begin to lose interest. But unlike others, the V/H/S films are given annual do-overs; if one volume flops, creators can simply find another quintet (Todd Lincoln’s segment for this film is stripped off—a good riddance?) of fresh, edge-cutting filmmakers with effed-up stories in mind and release them as another volume. (See? Horror anthologies aren’t the cursed!). This year’s V/H/S: Viral however is stuck, like a cow on the fence, between triumph and loss—though it has its head tilted ever so slightly to the latter.
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V/H/S: VIRAL
Nacho Vigalondo, et al. / PH
2014 / Horror / 97 min. / R
Screenplay: Nacho Vigalondo, Gregg Bishop, et al.
Cast: Emmy Argo, Amanda Baker, Rim Basma…
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“[What are you doing, Marta?]
Exercising my right of domestic violence at home.”
~Marta (a.k.a. Monster Vagina, lol)
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