Most of the output of horror studio Blumhouse does little for me. There is the occasional high-concept fare, but I find most of their stuff to be the kind of unmarkable fright films I never find scary. You can keep your twitchy, fast-slow-fast, spider-walking all over the walls and ceilings undead things.
So it really throws me for a loop when they knock one of the park. Such is the case with 2012’s Sinister.
Ethan Hawke stars as a true crime author who has relocated his family to the town which is to be the subject of his next book. This has been the latest of long series of such moves, each coinciding with a different book about yet another series of horrible murders.
Juliet Rylance, as his wife, has been excessively patient, in my opinion. Still, she wants him to stop writing such books, and end the consequent relocations, if this next one isn’t a success. We learn he was a hot author at one time, though his greatest success is several books behind him. What is astonishing is Hawke doesn’t tell her he has moved them into the actual location of the homicides he intends to write about. I was astonished by how long it takes that information to get to her, and you can imagine how badly that goes over.
The very first thing we see in the film is an 8mm home movie of those deaths. Each member the former occupants of Hawke’s house, bar one, lays on the ground with a noose around their neck. The ropes connected to those nooses are slung over a tree branch over their heads, with the end of each tied to yet another limb. What we don’t see is a figure in the tree, who has been sawing away at the branch the ropes are attached to. In a horrific physics demonstration, that limb eventually falls away, pulling the hooded family members upward, where they are strangled. This is one of those weird things that is somehow gruesome, despite being so ridiculous that it might be something Rube Goldberg would have conceived of if he had been a serial killer.
It will turn out that was just the most recent in a series of such incidents, each of which is as equally convoluted and gruesome. Each incident has been captured for posterity on 8mm film. And this library of related snuff films is in the attic of this most recent house, just waiting to be discovered.
When Hawke discovers the films, I was yelling at the screen for him to the call the police. Of course, if he did that, there wouldn’t be much of a movie. Admittedly, he does start to call them. Then he side-eyes the spine of his last book that was a big hit, and soon he’s hanging up.
The most intriguing aspect of this picture are those horrible films. The concept of the snuff film is one of the biggest of the remaining taboos in the world, an urban myth that I hope is forever that—just a myth. It also touches on the idea of some movies having a supernatural power. The idea of a film being an opening to another world is one which intrigues me. For those who feel the same, I highly recommend the novel Experimental Film by Gemma Files.
As always, there are some minor elements which annoyed me or could have been done differently, and to the movie’s betterment. One thing I did not buy is the fallen tree limb from that most recent homicide is still attached at one end. You know that branch would have been completely removed, if only by the Realtor through which they bought the place. Even if it hadn’t been part of a crime scene, it still is a liability. Also, there’s the boilerplate horror sounds playing whenever Hawke is watching those 8mm films. I think these scenes would be even more effective with nothing on the soundtrack.
I was surprised by how much I enjoyed Sinister. It has an intriguing premise which it follows through to a logical conclusion, even if it was an expected one. There is a sequel I won’t ever bother watching, as this movie is perfectly self-contained as it is. And, yet, there is one question that is nagging me: if watching one of the 8mm clips results in the next being made, who made the first one?
Dir: Scott Derrickson
Starring Ethan Hawke, Juliet Rylance, Clare Foley
Watched on blu-ray