Fantasia Festival 2020 Film Review: The Block Island Sound
The Block Island Sound is a potent cocktail of different horrors
A cleverly affecting mix of environmental and cosmic horror, The McManus brothers’ The Block Island Sound is one of the best surprises of Fantasia Festival this year. With its standout performances and adroit pacing, the film ratchets up a creeping atmosphere of dread and paranoia, all in service of a powerful allegory for mental illness, inherited ailments, and the deteriorating state of our world.
In 2017, Netflix debuted the gut-busting mockumentary American Vandal, which ran for two seasons on the streaming platform before being unjustly canceled. Although the series presented itself with a veneer of high school toilet humor - the first season centered around a manhunt for a penis-drawing defacer, the second around a laxative-wielding terrorist known as the “Turd Burglar” - it eventually revealed a layered interiority that explored the cross sections of class, race, and social stratification. Fast forward to 2020’s Fantasia Festival, and Kevin and Matthew McManus, two of the primary architects and writers behind American Vandal, are ready to debut their directorial foray into horror with The Block Island Sound. And while at first glance, the scares of The Block Island Sound couldn’t be further from the ribald antics of American Vandal in tone and style, it shares a deft scripting from the McManus brothers, and a throughline of deeper themes that transcend genre trappings.
There’s something strange brewing off the coast of Block Island. A sleepy maritime town accessible only by ferry, the location has been plagued by inexplicable phenomena: literal tons of dead fish wash up on the shores, and birds fly headfirst into the ground, killing themselves instantly. The film opens up with an older fisherman named Tom (character actor Neville Archambault, in a standout physical and emotional performance), alone and disoriented on his fishing boat. Ever since the death of his wife, Tom has been suffering from hallucinations, blackouts, and loss of time, which constantly keep his adult son Harry (Chris Sheffield) on his toes. When Harry’s sister Audry (Michaela McManus), a marine biologist, comes to Block Island to investigate the mysterious events plaguing the town, she gets roped into the family drama and Tom’s increasingly concerning episodes.
“[The Block Island Sound] ratchets up a creeping atmosphere of dread and paranoia, all in service of a powerful allegory for mental illness, inherited ailments, and the deteriorating state of our world.”
To give any more away would venture into spoiler territory, but it behooves me to say that The Block Island Sound adeptly blends the ingredients of eco-horror, supernatural chills, and familial drama into a potent mixture of existential dread. In many ways, this taut and efficient potboiler evokes some of this year’s best in horror without dipping into the well of imitation: From the environmental terrors of Sea Fever and The Beach, to the somber meditation on family and mortality that is Natalie Erika James’ Relic, the McManus brothers know exactly how to remix disparate elements of horror in ways that are both effective, surprising, and coherent. It also helps that the film’s production is top-notch; Alan Gwizdowski’s photography is haunting and deliberate, making Block Island come to life with his measured camera work, while also ensuring that the film’s layer of dread stems from atmosphere, and not cheap jump scares. The other standout for the film is Shawn Duffy’s impeccable sound design. The Block Island Sound holds double meaning: one, obviously, is the body of water that makes for the setting of our story, and the other describes the otherworldly wail that shakes its victims to their core and digs into the audience’s brain.
The Block Island Sound may be a horror film, but at the center of it is a gripping character drama anchored by a trifecta of strong performances. Neville Archambault as Tom utilizes a primal physicality that brings a chilling portrayal to the narrative’s forefront, with an instability that may or may not have transferred to his son Harry. This father-son relationship lies at the center of the film, and no matter what paranormal circumstances are behind the madness, The Block Island Sound drums up a powerful allegory for inherited illness and familial guilt. Chris Sheffield is outstanding as Harry, and his descent into an unknown pathology of regret, grief, and trauma is palpable. The film would also not be what it is without Michaela McManus, whose level-headed calm and every-woman charm as Audry make a logical foil for her increasingly dysfunctional family. The McManus brothers excel at creating grounded, character-level tension, even when the supernatural shit starts hitting the fan.
My single gripe with The Block Island Sound lies within its final act. While the film doesn’t flub its ending (far from it), I do wish that it resisted its tidy conclusion. There’s a beauty and solemness to ambiguity, and it’s an ambiguity that I think would have benefitted the film greatly. Without spoiling anything, if only the runtime were cut ten seconds shorter, the story wouldn’t feel like it pulled a punch in its last moments. The film’s ending feels like a binary choice that was labored and debated over during scripting, and I do wish it went the way other than the one finally depicted.
There’s no doubt that Kevin and Matthew McManus make a splash with their horror debut, translating their keen eye for characters and plotting into a twisted new vision with The Block Island Sound. Atmospheric horror through the lens of familial drama, the film lands every one of its emotional beats with its authentic performances, and impresses with its polished production and visuals. Don’t miss out on this one.
