Overlook 2019: HEAD COUNT Review – CreepyPasta Horrors In Plain Sight
Matt Donato
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Starring Isaac Jay, Ashleigh Morghan, Bevin Bru, Tory Freeth, Michael Herman, Sam Marra, Chelcie May, Billy Meade, Amaka Obiechie, Hunter Peterson, and Cooper Rowe.
Written by Elle Callahan (story) and Michael Nader.
Directed by Elle Callahan.
Elle Callahan’s Head Count is a steaming bowl of California “Creepypasta” served up hot n’ fresh for horror fan consumption. As studios and filmmakers repetitively attempt to crack Slenderman’s cinematic formula, failing more than succeeding, Callahan plunges into original online incantations and imagined mythologies unto her own creativity. No adaptation required, nor living up to memes and hoax reports of a gangly forest lurker. Head Count plays around with doppelgängers, plain-sight horrors, and a constant sense of inherent paranoia that sustains this sunny vacation chiller worth every misdirection, optical trick, and hair-raising breakdown of reality.
Evan (Isaac Jay) arrives at Joshua Tree for another long weekend with hippie brother Peyton (Cooper Rowe). While hiking through desert rock formations, Evan catches the eye of pot-smoking photographer Zoe (Ashleigh Morgan) as she’s “chillaxing” with friends. Evan and Peyton join, the latter forgoing marijuana puffs, which leads to an invitation for the brothers to party with Zoe’s friends at their rental property. Reluctantly Evan accepts, leaving Peyton. This proves to be a foolhardy decision, as Evan soon finds himself battling an unidentified evil force preying upon the basic beer pong bros and brahs.
Head Count plays like a malicious magic trick. It’s during a campfire competition to recite the night’s scariest story that Evan unwittingly summons “Hisji,” a shapeshifting demonic entity who derives power from things in fives. Five people, five beer cans, five dice – anything collected into a grouping of five. What this means is Hisji infiltrates and camouflages as different partiers to assimilate without notice. Callahan manipulates normalcy with double-vision paranoia as intoxicated characters witness impossible occurrences by way of cloned behaviors. Proficiently, mind you.
Madness is Callahan’s directorial motivation, which she wields through camera tricks and off-kilter tension. Perhaps a back-and-forth pan between five characters playing a communal drinking game as we know one participant will be outed as Hisji, yet the revealing jump *still* executes a precise payoff. Maybe long-distance background lurking where a shadowy figure glares down jacuzzi soakers. There’s confidence in her monster’s full-form showings, which – in my opinion – holds a little *too* long in one choice spastic moment, but Callahan’s belief in Hisji creates a rich legend from modest means. An urban legend birthed overnight on fake site AnonymousNightmares.com, showcasing manic vision that never breaks an uptempo and shattered-reality tone.
Falling into a subset of horror I dub “Sunny Scary,” Callahan doesn’t fear sunbeams and west coast vibes when it comes to all-hours fear. Night brings binge drinking and Hisji’s fiercest attacks, but daytime drama doesn’t dwell on playing safe. Evan’s constant mentality is at a restating state of danger afoot, babbling on about conspiracies that his new friends either find terrifying or batshit insane. Meeting people is hard, reading unknown group dynamics, but Evan must navigate unknown social interactions while avoiding Hisji’s suicidal trance for added complications. Nothing lost by way of terrorization when sunshine blasts, which is a bright sign of directorial strength.
As for Zoe’s squad, character arcs are that of expected millennial fun-seekers. Nico (Hunter Peterson) the hallucinogenic enthusiast who’s accused of spiking drinks, Max (Billy Meade) the dickhead alpha, Camille (Bevin Bru) the anything-goes bubbly extrovert – so on, so forth. Evan’s interjection is met with awkward first glances, hesitant acceptances, and overnight flings that cement solid chemistry throughout. As Hisji’s presence becomes more prolific, faces read fear in all its forms. There’s a very Black Mirror/Twilight Zone feel as Callahan’s universe individualizes itself, trapping characters within a microcosm of vacation horror. Heated, frantic, and cerebrally self-contained.
Head Count is spooky “Creepypasta” inspired horror rife with intrigue and consequential terror. Indie budgeting rears its computerized head at times when Hisji appears, but Callahan’s steady direction brings ample sunburnt dread to this weekend getaway nightmare. One boy’s decision to chase romantic connections leads to the creation of mythic mathematical damnation. It’s a brisk slow-burn that favors mind-bending, objectification of the obvious, and counting downwards until no one’s left standing. In the mood for a serviceably freakish monstro-slasher? Elle Callahan’s got you covered.
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Head Count
Summary
Head Count brings a good-time horror heatwave that keeps viewers guessing, but the name of this game is always doom and damnation.
Categorized:Reviews
