Why must so many horror films also serve as origin stories? There are countless examples of stories about ghosts or monsters where we, along with the characters, learn the “rules” for a particular source of torment. When Evil Lurks, a refreshing and nasty new horror film from Argentine director Demián Rugna, jettisons the idea that we must be as clueless as the characters. The characters understand the monster’s capability from the get-go, and do not feel a need to pause to explain what is happening. Not only is this a shrewd way to get us involved in the story, the film’s breathless pace creates a sense of hopeless brutality that it follows to its logical conclusion. Even with the renewed interest in horror over recent years, few films have the courage and singlemindedness to be this mean-spirited.
When we meet brothers Pedro (Ezequiel Rodriguez) and Jimmy (Demián Salomon) in the countryside, they are on high alert. They sense something is deeply wrong with their neighbor, only to discover he has been possessed by a “rotten,” a kind of demon that is more like a scourge than a prankster. They speak with clipped shorthand, not deigning to explain their alarm but involving us in their struggle, anyway. Unless they dispose of the rotten properly–it involves some kind of shadowy ritual–then it will slaughter their community at will. Pedro and Jimmy try and get the rotten as far they can from their homestead, and when their plan backfires, they assume the demon will come back to attack their family. When Evil Lurks then becomes a race against a menace that no one can see, and yet seems to be everywhere.
Although Rugna’s film involves a supernatural creature, its tight pacing is reminiscent of James Cameron’s original The Terminator. Like Arnold’s murder robot, the villain here simply does not stop, no matter how the heroes attempt to outrun it. The film then unfolds with the inertia you typically find in a chase film, not a horror thriller about a demon. That is not to say, however, that Rugna neglects the inherent horror of his premise.
There are scenes and situations in When Evil Lurks that are disturbing and depict the unspeakable, to the point where pitch-black humor is the only way to make sense of them. A shrewd sense of camera placement and misdirection compounds the rotten’s power: there is an early scene where we watch Pedro argue with his ex-wife in the distance, while his daughter and their large dog observe from the foreground. We have a sense of where the scene is going, then the dog darts across the frame, sinking its jaws into a frightened girl as she’s mauled by her beloved companion.
Sounds pretty rough, right? That is only the start of Rugna’s twisted imagination, as he finds situations that make a joke about humanity’s most trusted institutions. Surely there is no bond greater than between a parent and their child, and yet the rotten includes moments where a possessed parent abandons all protective instinct. The rotten also seems aware of Pedro’s hatred toward it, sparing him from possession, yet also forcing him to bear witness to one atrocity after another (Rodriguez’s performance is effective through understatement and a hardened expression).
When Evil Lurks is part of a growing trend within horror where taboos are broken. Longtime horror fans may be shocked by the lines that Rugna’s tramples over, unless they have seen his previous film Terrified, which could be similarly transgressive. Still, it would be a mistake to say Rugna’s film is thoughtless or bleak for its own sake. The rotten is a nihilist, similar to other demons, and its antipathy toward anything sacred is a powerful metaphor for a world where we look at the imperiled future and cannot find any hope. By the time Pedro falls to his knees and sobs uncontrollably, that kind of emotional catharsis and acknowledgment is the only solace we have when we are powerless, the semblance of control is a punchline.
Photo courtesy of IFC Films
The post When Evil Lurks appeared first on Spectrum Culture.