Unseen Terror 2015: Day 23

Dissatisfied wife Mya has been having an affair with Ben, a man who is far more relaxed than her own husband Lewis, who the former has been insisting that she split from. Though she entertains the idea, Mya can't seem to go through with it. After leaving her lover's flat one evening, Ben turns on his own television, only to witness a series of flashing lights and images that seem to entrance and mesmerize him. Elsewhere, Mya is questioned by her spouse about her whereabouts during the previous night, but as Lewis' friends attempt to fix the apartment's own television set, he repeatedly, angrily asks that she take a shower. While in the bathroom, the trio of men also find themselves staring at this unusual signal, loudly arguing about small things and Lewis' spouse. As Mya peeks out from behind the door, she catches a glimpse of Lewis reacting with rather violent, murderous intentions towards anybody and anything around him.

Last year, I had mentioned making a couple of brief trips to the graveyard that was once dubbed by my own ancestors as "Blockbuster Video." These journeys into what will most likely be the final video rental chain to ever exist produced some nice surprises, specifically The Midnight Meat Train, The Loved Ones, and Suck. Though there was a plan in the works that was originally going to consist of a miniature marathon titled "The Blockbuster Bunch," I think it's safe to say that such an idea will be sitting on the shelf for an undisclosed amount of time. Whatever the case, I can add one more treat to the bag, and in this case, it was ironically something I had to pass over during my time while working at DVD competitor Hollywood Video, but it was mostly due to copies being stolen. Our security locks for discs was not very good.

But christ on a crutch, I was still a little shocked that something this genuinely nerve-racking flew not just flew under the radar, but was also a homegrown product from the good ol' United States of America. Then again, Magnet Releasing are a rather under-appreciated company when it comes to putting out pictures that can shake you to your very core (I Saw The Devil anyone?). What helps make The Signal such an fascinating experience isn't the respectable distributor though. That, fellow readers and terror connoisseurs, is its own twisted, interconnected stories and guessing games that keeps you constantly questioning about what the hell is exactly going on and how something that is so easy to fall victim to can be avoided or cured (if at all).

Gratefully, you don't have to worry about this turning into something a bit too chaotic and ultra-precise like a later-day David Lynch film. Something that was unknown to me beforehand was that The Signal is actually comprised of three separate chapters, each revolving around three uniquely different people affected by the titular transmission who ultimately come together in some way, shape, or form. There's Anessa Ramsey's Mya, who may the closest thing to any single homo sapien with a rational and working mind, and considering all of the chaos that surrounds her, she never feels like a completely helpless heroine. Well, save for one moment in the third act, but that is forgivable given the context of the movie. Initially feeling like a brief third wheel with no purpose other than to just serve as an introductory plot device, Justin Welborn (Justified, The Final Destination) does turn in a solid job as her liaison lover, though it did take a rather lengthy amount of time for him to feel fleshed out or relatable. The real star of The Signal has to be one A.J. Bowen (The House Of The Devil, You're Next). He portrays Mya's husband Lewis, stealing the show (and lives) with every demented scene that he is featured in. He participates in some of the more heartless attacks that I've seen in a recent American horror film, with nods to flicks like Irreversible seen throughout his disturbing behavior. Perhaps my only complaint about his performance comes from a portion of the script, but there will be more on that down below.

Even though I suspected that The Signal would most likely be branded with an R-rating, I feel that I was still denied critical, need-to-know information. My dear friends, this little bit of news comes in the form of some shockingly bloody and ruthless bits of aggression that almost border on being downright cruel. There are people getting bashed in the head with blunt objects, sprayed in the eyes or throat with insecticide, and many more that I don't feel like spoiling out of the kindness of my heart. Perhaps what makes this that much more interesting is the decision that was made by the three writer/directors in charge to not try and quickly cut away, leaving a large portion of this maiming in plain view for the audience. Call me a sadist, but I can dig the testicular fortitude of anyone willing to take that chance on a motion picture that falls under the category of modern day horror, which some accuse of being too soft. But for all of the greatness that I've been spewing forth about the acting and bloodshed, there is one, egregious error that The Signal makes which prevents me from dubbing it as a truly fantastic film: its second act. Swerving from one territory to another is certainly something that is common practice among writers (it's one of the reasons why I dig Robert Rodriguez's From Dusk Til Dawn), but there is no proper set up or transition for this series of scenes. It's the equivalent of the second half of Stanley Kubrick's vietnam epic Full Metal Jacket, which while dealing with actual combat and the horrors of war, just pales in comparison the quotable, aggressive training camp sequences. In the case of The Signal, going from a hard, relatively dark thirty minutes into moments of black comedy nearly makes the picture trip over its own two feet.

With all of that out of the way, there is still the uncanny resemblances to various works such as Stephen King's Cell (released one year prior to this effort) and George Romero's The Crazies that I'm sure even non-viewers will notice (2008's Pontypool also bears a familiar story, though is possibly more complex). Mercifully, I don't see these similarities bothering anyone save for the most irksome and ones who need to nitpick every little thing. Besides, considering that most of the pictures that I've praised immensely so far were expected to be pleasant to begin with, I believe that The Signal is a very strong contender for the "most underrated" category of this year's iteration of Unseen Terror. It mostly delivers on the disturbing end of things, packs a wallop of a third act, and even drags into the land of insanity from time to time. Though you most likely won't be able to score it on DVD or Blu-Ray for the same amount of money that I paid for it, you can still stream it for no extra charge on Amazon Prime, and can purchase it for a rather small amount of money from your everyday website that deals in electronics.

On a somewhat related note, I'm just going to admittedly state that I don't believe that the "mumblecore" genre is necessarily a real thing. I just think that tougher critics who deride the lower production values and amateurish casting of newer horror pictures felt the need to inflate their "pass on the present, praise the past" attitudes, which can honestly, and truthfully, go fuck itself. Can we just call these type of movies by what they are? Which is, you know, HORROR MOVIES? Yeesh, and I thought metal fans were picky with their categorizations.

Tomorrow, I take a trip overseas to France, and tackle a sadistic movie that I once dismissed as being rather overrated and boring. But was the pre-bearded Ryan wrong?