Antlers, the new horror film from Scott Cooper, attempts to be both respectable and gross. It depicts a number of ills in modern American life, including poverty and addiction, while also featuring a bloodthirsty monster. Countless horror films have done this before, although they had the wherewithal to realize the audience did not need respectability to get the message. Cooper is a newcomer to this genre – he is best known for Crazy Heart and Out of the Furnace – so maybe he is not comfortable with the usual subtext. Instead of letting the audience figure out how the monster serves as metaphor for American excess and decline, Cooper has his characters tell us exactly that.
The opening imagery of forgotten mines and empty homes suggest the Rust Belt, but Cooper and his co-screenwriters opt for the damp, wet forests of Oregon. This is a town that most longtime residents have abandoned, and those who stay have few prospects. An emaciated, traumatized boy like Lucas (Jeremy T. Thomas) must be common at the school where Julia (Keri Russell) is his teacher because so many of his classmates are sullen, withdrawn and awkward. Lucas’ situation is much worse, since his father worked in meth lab, at least until a terrible accident left with him a strange sickness. The nature of this sickness is unknown to us, except we see that Lucas needs to keep his father locked in the attic and an outsider character observes his home “smells like death.” Increasingly concerned something is wrong – and motivated by her own past trauma – Julia pushes her brother Paul (Jesse Plemons) to do something (he is the local sheriff). By the time he springs into action, there is already a body count.
Horror’s formal flourishes – loud noises, wan pools of light, an oppressive tone – are grim, effective ways to depict Lucas’ situation. The best stretches of the film are where we watch him cope, like when he sees a skunk as an opportunity, not a threat. In fact, all the characters are given early flashes of nuance. Julia has a disturbing nightmare sequence about her father, while Paul uses the limits of police procedure to disguise how he barely holds it together. Cooper takes his time developing the situation, but he does not treat the horror with the same detail and sensitivity. The first major death scene is perfunctory, a mix of mild jump scares and creepy sound design. Early ads for Antlers note that Guillermo del Toro produced the film, although Cooper does not share the Mexican director’s imagination or flair for the grotesque. In the third act, there is one horrific image that equals the respectable parts of the film and dovetails all its themes. Unfortunately, this image is found is a predictable climax where the characters lose their curiosity, and instead veer toward archetypes.
Julia’s opening scene is a classroom lesson, one where she talks about the need for storytelling and myth. Her dialogue is a little on the nose, but easily forgiven since she is talking to children, and the film still searches for its footing. By the time the indigenous actor Graham Greene shows up, effectively explaining the same thing to Julia and Paul, the film squanders that goodwill. The wise indigenous elder was a cliché 30 years ago, and no amount of social import can disguise how Antlers devolves toward the familiar. Despite effective performances and the occasional intense moment, this film cannot decide what it wants to be, which is another way of saying it is unsuccessful twice.
Photo courtesy of Searchlight Pictures
The post Antlers appeared first on Spectrum Culture.