The V/H/S franchise has been a beacon of horror anthology creativity since its inception in 2012. Like David Bruckner’s “Amateur Night,” Shorts have been adapted into feature-length spinoffs like 2016’s Siren. Horror creators such as Ti West, Radio Silence, Simon Barrett, and Adam Wingard have contributed. Its previous three films have taken on the first-person perspective of zombies, a magician with a cannibalistic cloak, alien abductions, and more under the found footage spectrum.
V/H/S/94 serves as a re-entry, the first iteration since 2014’s V/H/S/Viral that tried to capture the social media spectrum. While that film lost its muster, the V/H/S/ franchise regains footing, going back to basics. At least aesthetically, 94 is a throwback in every sense of the word. The glitchy, rough, cutting out at certain times, and all the skips known for that medium are present. There’s an integral structure for how V/H/S/94 looks and feels. With every one of these movies, there’s a dominant story that tries to make a whole. “Holy Hell,” written and directed by Jennifer Reeder, takes that moniker. A SWAT team infiltrates a compound of a cult that welcomes the end of days. There are rooms full of eyeballs, intermittent announcements, and old style-TV screens playing various disturbing images. As something that assembles all the pieces of V/H/S/94’s puzzle in one space, it’s not as strong of a unifier as past iterations.
The most straightforward shorts of the four are Chloe Okuno’s “Storm Drain” and Barrett’s “The Empty Wake.” “Storm Drain” cuts in the middle of a news broadcast chronicling an urban legend called ‘The Rat Man.’ Is it real? Well, a newscaster who is super zealous for a cutting-edge story along with a cameraman goes into the depths of the sewers to find out. The concise length of “Storm Drain” helps elevate it when it goes for the suspense element. Both characters walk into the sewer systems, coming across relics, a strange older man, and a random gathering of worshipers. The ending is abrupt but effective – unveiling a monstrosity of a rodent-like enemy, complete with acidic venom. Barrett goes for a mystery, bump-in-the-night theme with “The Empty Wake.” It involves a funeral home attendee who has to work alone, awaiting family and friends to see a recently deceased person off. Barrett keeps things simple – using a stationary camera alongside a loss of power, stormy weather, and a conspicuously moving coffin.
Timo Tjahjanto’s previous entry with Gareth Edwards, “Safe Haven,” from 2013’s V/H/S/ 2 was a gory, insane affair investigating a fictional cult named Paradise Gates. “The Subject” again sets things apart, which may feel jarring given how futuristic the premise is. A mad scientist becomes obsessed with making cyborgs out of random people he finds. He’s successful with one, and when a police unit comes into his laboratory to stop him, she realizes her surroundings. Fully seeing who she becomes, the short film turns to her perspective. What follows is a bloody, frenetic pace that draws influences from The Terminator, Frankenstein, and other human mech influences. If you’re thinking about the theme, “The Subject” will stick out because it doesn’t feel as it could occur in the 90s. The number of special effects works also can’t hide within the minimalism of 94‘s whole. On its own, trailing the unwilling hero as she tries to survive with an assortment of murderous tools will be entertaining.
One short that stands out from the rest is Ryan Prows’ “Terror.” While it has a supernatural element – it takes on the symptomatic terror of hate and “bigotry” Following a white supremacist militia, “Terror” almost feels like a documentary. You get to see their day-t0-day activities as they prep to carry out a violent attack on a building in Detroit. All the while, they have a mystery man locked up in a random barn and some weapon under their control—it’s an instance where the real-world fright that operates outside of something ghoulish outweighs the payoff.
V/H/S/94 sees the franchise embark on a welcome upswing. Sometimes, things are out of place within the narratives’ scheme, and sometimes run times linger a little longer than they have to, but there’s a renewed sense of total creativity to make each gratifying.
Photo Credit: Shudder
