Fantasia Festival 2020 Film Review: The Mortuary Collection
The Mortuary Collection is a delightfully crafted tribute to pulp horror
The only anthology in Fantasia Festival’s 2020 lineup, director Ryan Spindell’s The Mortuary Collection is a haunting love letter to vintage horror and the pulp comics that inspire it. With Clancy Brown chewing up the scenery just like the horror hosts of yore, the film delightfully reaches back to recall the frightful morality plays of Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow. Expertly crafted and gorgeous to boot, The Mortuary Collection is the most fun I’ve had at Fantasia so far, and a film that will likely be a Halloween mainstay for years to come. Minor spoilers ahead…
In 2015, filmmaker Ryan Spindell released The Babysitter Murders. A devious subversion of the babysitter-versus-slasher subgenre that was popular in the 80s, the 22-minute short went on to become a lauded festival darling and an indie hit. Fast-forward to 2020, and Spindell has expanded The Babysitter Murders to a full-length feature: The Mortuary Collection. However, rather than pad Babysitter’s already-perfect pacing and runtime, The Mortuary Collection is presented as a delightful horror anthology, brilliantly repurposing the entirety of The Babysitter Murders as a framing device for three other shorts, all written and directed by Spindell.
Taking place in the fictional town of Raven’s End, The Mortuary Collection opens with the funeral of a boy presided over by the community’s resident undertaker: Montgomery Dark (Clancy Brown, having the time of his life). A loving pastiche of horror icons past (The Tall Man, The Cryptkeeper, and The Creep all come to mind), Dark serves as sinister host for this somber wake and for the film as well. After the service, a young woman named Sam (Caitlin Custer, in the film’s other standout performance) stays behind to inquire about a vacant position at the mortuary. Dark initially rebuffs her, but the girl’s intriguing taste for the macabre grants her a reluctant interview with the enigmatic mortician. In a wonderful tête-à-tête defined by a rollicking chemistry between the two, Dark begins to tell what he deems the most bone-chilling tales about the corpses that have passed through his parlor. Framing device in place, we’re then thrown into a series of different grisly stories.
A mysterious woman (Christine Kilmer) encounters an eldritch horror behind a bathroom cabinet, a fraternity Lothario (Jacob Elordi, Euphoria) meets his match in a dangerous girl (Ema Horvath), and a deeply conflicted man (Barak Hardley) has his vows gruesomely tested as he cares for his catatonic wife (Sarah Hay); these morsels of terror should undoubtedly trigger pangs of familiarity for fans of pulp horror, as each one adheres to the vintage morality play template. Tales of gory justice and sanguine comeuppance, every narrative is a delicious meal for anyone yearning for a return to this type of storytelling. And of course, the film’s final story - this time told by Sam - also fits this mold. A clever repackaging of The Babysitter Murders, The Mortuary Collection’s coup-de-grâce employs a devilishly clever twist that brings everything full circle. Where other anthology framing devices run thin and perfunctory, Spindell’s script and direction takes the time to seamlessly - and with substance - blend it with the film’s overarching themes.
“With Clancy Brown chewing up the scenery just like the horror hosts of yore, The Mortuary Collection delightfully reaches back to recall the frightful morality plays of Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow.”
Anthologies, especially when it comes to the horror genre, are typically hit or miss. With so many cooks in the kitchen and a disparate number of styles within a single film, horror anthologies can be incredibly inconsistent, and all it takes is one dud to bring momentum to a screeching halt. An anthology is only as strong as its weakest link, but this certainly isn’t the case with The Mortuary Collection: With writing, directing, and production for all the segments under the same banner, the film is cohesive and seamlessly crafted. Each vignette progresses through a different historical time period, but Spindell and company apply a sheen of vintage Americana to each short - an ineffable timelessness that feels right at home among its pulp aspirations. According to Spindell himself, The Mortuary Collection is a “love letter to EC Comics on an indie budget.” But you can trust me when I say that nothing about the film feels “indie budget” in the slightest; from the intricate production design to the impeccable locations to the lush cinematography, it seems that every penny that went into The Mortuary Collection was stretched to its fullest potential.
As pretty as it is to look at, The Mortuary Collection also knows its horror. Running the gamut of subgenres, there’s something for everyone within the walls of Montgomery Dark’s funeral home - Lovecraftian beasties, harrowing bouts of body horror, and bloody slasher violence all make welcome appearances. And while all of these short stories feel familiar, the film’s script is clever enough to breathe new life into tropes we’ve all seen before: The Mortuary Collection is an evocation of its influences, and not an imitation. Ryan Spindell has crafted a unique vision of the horror anthology with The Mortuary Collection, and it’s the most fun I’ve had at the Fantasia Festival so far. With its astonishing polish and ghastly storytelling, the film is a testament to the lifeblood of indie filmmaking, and full-on proof that the horror anthology still lives.
