On a secluded farm in a nondescript rural town, a man is slowly dying. His family gathers to mourn, and soon a darkness grows, marked by waking nightmares and a growing sense that something evil is taking over the family.
Over the years, horror films have proven to be more emotionally compelling than any other genre. Following suit, “The Dark and the Wicked” is set on a remote sheep farm in Texas, where after an onslaught of supernatural occurrences and a patriarch’s failing health, two estranged siblings are forced to return to their childhood home. Back in 2008, writer/director Bryan Bertino debuted with “The Strangers,” haunting my nights for months after viewing. While only directing a few pictures since 2008, it’s clear he hasn’t lost his touch. Filming took place in his native Lone Star state and the location feels like it’s on the edge of the world.
The story begins with a woman (Julie Oliver-Touchstone), quietly singing a religious ballad as she heads out to the barn, tending to her sheep. After adjusting the fence, she retraces her steps across the field back home. With a creeping low angle, the camera captures her stern face while a large steel weather vane rapidly spins over cloudy skies, signaling that a storm is brewing. Inside the rustic home, the floorboards and doors creak with life as she heads to her ill husband Charlie (Michael Zagst), who’s lying in bed hooked up to oxygen.
Louise (Marin Ireland) and her brother Michael (Michael Abbot Jr.) arrive separately at the farm after having been absent for years. Although happily reunited, the pair commiserate about personal issues with work and family. Immediately, they notice something is off with their mother and are incapable of connecting with her. She’s nearly catatonic and only occasionally whispers to herself for the duration of their meal. The next day the mother is maniacally chopping up carrots until she slices too far. She ends up chopping off four of her fingers and continues to cut the fingers into tiny bits. This self-mutilation made me hop out of my seat and it’s a stark reminder that when reviewing, you can’t just look away.
Walking back towards the barn in a daze, the mother hangs herself, leaving Louise and Michael devastated. Michael suggests taking their father to a hospital for care but his sister insists on staying the night. The family’s nurse (Lynn Andrews) mentions that their mother was speaking troubling words in his ear and offers to help Louise get acquainted with the medical equipment. After everyone leaves, she takes a shower and is shocked to see her father standing outside the curtain, his eyes bright white and his head convulsing. Normally, I’m not a huge fan of jump scares but these are warranted since there’s a satisfying resolution.
Naturally, the siblings dig through their mother’s personal belongings and discover her diary. The entries describe how the devil himself has been trying to take over her husband’s soul and has destroyed any semblance of hope within her. While claiming their mother’s body from the coroner, he mentions finding dozens of Sunday School crucifixes in her possession. This is odd since their family has persistently renounced religion.
Although it’s filled with dread, Bertino maintains a slow-burning tempo that avoids most tropes. His themes involve isolation, depression, elderly neglect, all lined within the scope of political and religious allegories. These complex ideas are often explored through basic everyday household objects. The phone keeps ringing but it’s usually an apparition of their mother on the line commanding them to “get out and go away.”
The family’s flock of sheep feels considerably biblical. I’m not a religious scholar but these animals typically represent sacrifice. Jesus is referred to as the lamb of God and Louise, being the first-born, is tragically devoted to taking on the majority of their emotional labor. Meanwhile, it seems her brother is privileged and selfish enough to be able to pick up and leave whenever he’s uncomfortable.
During a thunderstorm, the mysterious arrival of their mother’s priest (Xander Berkeley) intrigues Louise but upsets Michael. The grizzled priest says their non-belief in the devil doesn’t make him any less real. “You think a wolf cares if you believe he’s a wolf? Not if he finds you alone in the woods.”
This small cast is insightful with each character representing different roles in our society. With the family experiencing a true American existential crisis, there’s a push and pull between religion and science. The priest is adamant that punishment is inevitable for non-believers. While the Nurse, who is religious, mentions that a soul is only vulnerable due to a lack of love.
While the story is original, it falls into the niche category of tragic-horror. The most recent comparison I can recall is “It Comes at Night,” which similarly infused fright with genuine emotional trauma. “The Dark and the Wicked” has a recurring message to let go of the past, and while inherently difficult, it’s fascinating to examine. Also, like a biblical plague, independent farmers have been decimated by industrial farming and Bertino respectfully shows the hard work and vulnerability it takes maintaining one all alone. His blood-soaked message rings loud and clear, we need each other if we’re going to survive.
Available on Blu-ray and DVD December 15th
