Film Review: V/H/S/94
V/H/S/94 is a fleet, chilling start to spooky season
The fourth installment of the found footage anthology series, V/H/S, hits Shudder today. A collection of four short horror vignettes sandwiched within a sinister frame narrative, V/H/S/94 continues the tradition of its predecessors delivering nasty - and uneven - chills. Running the gamut of sewer-dwelling cryptids, haunted wakes, and outrageous mad scientists, there’s a little something for everyone within the creepy walls of V/H/S/94. Minor spoilers ahead…
V/H/S/94 marks the latest entry in the choppy horror series that started with 2012’s V/H/S, and one that feels like a return to form after the much-maligned V/H/S: Viral. The first installment that combines its namesake with the appropriate era of analog nostalgia, this collection of found footage shorts recaptures the gnarly, uproarious DIY ambience of the original with its fevered tour of horror sub-genres. Like most anthologies, V/H/S/94 has highs and lows, but the way the filmmakers approach their respective vignettes with glee and gumption - which range from creature features, to gore-fueled sci-fi, to gruesome hauntings - is a breath of fresh air.
Like all of the entires in the V/H/S franchise, 94 is framed by a narrative that stitches its short films together. These bookends and interludes rarely provide more than the flimsy connective tissue between its stories, and 94 doesn’t really veer too far from this formula. Helmed by Jennifer Reeder (Knives and Skin), 94’s wraparound segment finds a SWAT team raiding the aftermath of some bloody cult shenanigans. Eyeless, mangled bodies are slumped over in chairs, blood and cult paraphernalia are strewn everywhere, and the anthology unfolds across television screens that are still blaring, providing us with the superfluous context. While it can barely be counted as a standalone story, Reeder’s framing device is great at establishing the mood and atmosphere: an effective facsimile of actual VHS tapes complete with static, jumps, and staggering focus.
“…the filmmakers approach their respective vignettes with glee and gumption - which range from creature features, to gore-fueled sci-fi, to gruesome hauntings - is a breath of fresh air.”
The first segment, directed by Chloe Okuno, is titled “Storm Drain.” A hunt for a cryptid known only as the “Rat Man,” the story centers around a news reporter (Anna Hopkins) as she investigates a local urban legend, hoping to turn a fluff piece into formidable journalism about the city’s homeless. This is probably the entry that adheres most to the time period of the anthology’s title; “Storm Drain” has era-appropriate costuming and hair, amusing details that reflect a local news broadcast from 1994, and even a winking nod to something called the “Internet.” With its talking head interviews and guerrilla-style investigation, Okuno’s piece is great at teasing its mystery. It’s a little unfortunate that it becomes just a tad deflated once the big reveal swings around, but the practical creature effects are fantastic and the humor is cheeky enough to keep things afloat. A solid palate-prepper.
V/H/S veteran Simon Barrett directs 94’s second short film, “The Empty Wake.” A classic haunting told through the eyes of a new mortician (Kyal Legend) as she tends to a casket during a violent storm, it’s my personal favorite of the bunch. It’s a simple premise told through clever camerawork and stylish scares; reminiscent of the stationary lenses of Paranormal Activity, Barrett utilizes the rigid structure - which also has a clever in-story explanation - to his advantage, manufacturing genuine goosebumps from a noisy coffin and a not-so-dead corpse.
“…Timo Tjahjanto directed the wildest installment of V/H/S/2, “Safe Haven,” so it’s only fitting that he would return for V/H/S/94’s most balls-to-the-wall segment.”
Indonesian filmmaker Timo Tjahjanto directed the wildest installment of V/H/S/2, “Safe Haven,” so it’s only fitting that he would return for V/H/S/94’s most balls-to-the-wall segment. Gleeful and bloody in its first-person carnage, “The Subject” pits a group of awakening Frankenstein’s Monster-type creations against a SWAT team, making 94’s framing story all the more redundant. An increasingly outrageous mix of practical effects and campy digital wizardry that clearly skirts the 90s conceit of the whole film, Tjahjanto crafts an unapologetic blast of ultra-violence that’s nevertheless painted with the brush of empathy for these misbegotten cyborgs. And it’s a bit of a jarring experience traveling from the bombast of “The Subject” to Ryan Prows’ “The Terror,” V/H/S/94’s final narrative that finds militia-type white supremacists in over their heads as they try to weaponize a supernatural entity. Undeniably, there’s cathartic pleasure in watching these racists get their comeuppance, but it’s all a little too rushed and predictable - it’s the one segment that would have benefited from an expanded runtime, allowing its mishmash of ideas to take form before hitting upon familiar beats.
After the nadir of V/H/S: Viral, it was easy to wonder if the series would ever recapture the irreverent magic of its first two installments. With 94, it’s clear that all that was needed was some fresh blood and a punch in the arm. Shudder, the premiere horror streaming service that has embraced nostalgia as one of its most effective tools, is the perfect new home for the franchise. There’s something for everyone in V/H/S/94, and it’ll fit right in on Shudder’s storied shelves, next to the Creepshow reboot and its impressive library of hidden horrors.
