DEADLY CUTS

Stars: Angeline Ball, Erika Roe, Lauren Larkin, Shauna Higgins, Aidan McArdle, Victoria Smurfit, Thommas Kane Byrne, Aaron Edo and Ian-Lloyd Anderson.
Writer/Director: Rachel Carey

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Life is pretty shite for the women in Pigslingtown, and especially shite for the lasses of the Deadly Cuts Hair Salon. This Irish working class enclave is ruled over by a gang of misogynistic bullies, violent scumbags who extort money from the local businesses, crippling an already struggling sector, and the four plucky gals find themselves in the crosshairs (the puns just write themselves!).

Erika Roe plays Stacey, the 2IC of the salon, a twenty-something with grand dreams of taking on Ireland’s best stylists at the AAHHair Show and turning around the shop’s fortunes. Her scissor sisters include the boss, Michelle (the still-stunning Angeline Ball, who most will remember as the blonde back-up singer in Alan Parker’s The Commitments); fiery redhead Gemma (Lauren Larkin); and, the timid but primed for a big heroic moment, Chantelle (Shauna Higgins).

One evening, brutal gang leader Deano (a truly terrifying Ian-Lloyd Anderson) pushes the four friends too far and…well, let’s just say the town of Pigslingtown doesn’t have a gang problem any more. The path to hair show glory and a new destiny seems assured for the women of Deadly Cuts, if they can keep a secret even as the webcams of FabTV follow their every move.

In her feature debut, writer/director Rachel Carey shows a lovely eye for character and crisp ear for working-class banter, but struggles with the tone of her film. Shifting gears from aspirational, feel-good drama to bawdy girl-power ode to smalltown murder black-comedy, Deadly Cuts is never all those things in the single scene. It also wants to be a little bit of a piss-take of the hair stylist hierarchy and affectatious twats that anoint themselves industry leaders, which it does sporadically but without any incisive focus.

Nevertheless, there is a lot of fun to be had in just spending time with the four friends. The chemistry between the actresses, with Roe out front as the group’s heart-and-soul and Ball pulling focus like a true movie star every time she’s on-screen, negates the film’s other shortcomings. Be warned, though, that a) a couple of acts of violence are staged with alarming detail, and b) no fecking quarter is given in its embrace of the Oirish brogue. I understood about 60% of the dialogue, so thickly accented were the characterisations.

DEADLY CUTS is in limited release in Ausstralian and New Zealand cinemas from March 17 through Rialto Distribution.

DREAMS OF PAPER & INK

Stars: Tamara Lee Bailey, William Servinis, Neal Bosanquet, Marlene Magee, Emily Rok, Christopher Jordan, Sorcha Johnson and Anisa Mahama.
Writer/director: Glenn Triggs

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

An ageing author undertakes a melancholy journey through his earliest memories of love in Dreams of Paper & Ink, the latest work of independent sector inspiration from writer-director Glenn Triggs. A dialogue-free recounting of the first pangs of romance as recalled through the lens of age and wisdom, Triggs has crafted a film that draws upon his audience’s own experiences as much as it does his lead characters. Minus the spoken word, Dreams of Paper & Ink evokes the universal joys and pains of that first heartfelt connection.

The latest book from author Wade Gibson (Neal Bosanquet) is a fanciful medieval adventure that stumbles upon release, so much so that his publisher asks for something more personal - an account of that first time that love took hold of his heart. The assignment sends the author into a melancholy tailspin, as he commits to truthfully recalling how his younger self (William Servinis) fell for and wooed the free-spirited Kina (Tamara Lee Bailey). 

Triggs stages the older Wade’s writing process by placing the author and his typewriter in the very moment with his recollections. This creates a kind of ‘greek chorus’ effect, providing the audience with an emotional barometer, a gauge of the old man’s reactions to his own immaturity and romantic missteps. Initially, there is an overarching “Youth is wasted on the young” theme to Wade’s observations, but soon he comes to realise that it was his selfish flaws that extinguished in Kina the very essence that drew him to her.

The three leads are ideally cast, none more so than Bailey as Kina. Her joyous first onscreen impression, longings for deeper connection with young Wade and heartbreaking recognition that the magic has dissolved are conveyed with profundity by the young actress, who shares a convincing chemistry, in times both good and bad, with an equally terrific Servinis. As the older Wade, Bosanquet is wonderful in projecting the sense of personal revelation his journey comes to represent. As Wade’s wife, Marlene Magee is lovely as the woman that has come to represent love as a truly shared journey.    

‘Dialogue-free’ does not mean wordless. The lyrics of evocative songs and the prose of notes written between lovers take on added emphasis, both narratively and emotionally. Music and image convey both the thrall of that initial connection and the chilliness of love’s final hours. Triggs sets himself a true storytelling challenge, and pulls it off with a skill he’s honed in his past genre works (Cinemaphobia, 2009; 41, 2012; Apocalyptic, 2014; The Comet Kids, 2016). His first ‘serious drama’, Dreams of Paper and Ink confirms his status as one of the most interesting and accomplished independent voices in Australian film.

INFRARED

Stars: Greg Sestero, Jesse Janzen, Leah Finity, Ariel Ryan, Samantha Laurenti, Nicole Berry, Ian Hopps, Randy Nundlall Jr., Austin Blank, Robert Livings and Romulo Reyes.
Writers/directors: Robert Livings and Randy Nundlall Jr.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Don’t let the internet naysayers convince any prospective viewer that the found-footage sub-genre has breathed its last breath. Of course it’s not soaring as it did in those halcyon years post-Blair Witch Project, but nor is it the minefield of mediocrity and derivation that keyboard commentators would have you believe. In the second half of 2021, Shudder’s anthology pic V/H/S 94, Banjong Pisanthanakun’s The Medium, William Eubank’s Paranormal Activity: Next of Kin and the French thriller The Deep House, from Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury, displayed technical invention and narrative beats that made the shaky-cam cliches feel fresh, all over again.

Add to the list of better-than-expected first-person shockers Infrared, a blackly-funny, legitimately creepy riff on paranormal investigation cable shows. Some may argue that the night-vision fakery and “Did you hear that?” silliness that is de rigueur for the format makes them low-hanging fruit for satire, but co-directors Randy Nundlall Jr and Perth-born expat Robert Livings smartly conjure frights and fun with this low-budget, hi-energy effort.

Jesse Janzen plays the charismatic ghostbuster Wes, whom we first meet expunging an evil spirit from a possessed young woman. He is the host of ‘Infrared’, a showcase for his talents that he hopes will make him a reality-TV personality. His sister Izzy (Leah Finity) shares the same spiritual connectivity but prefers a quieter life, servicing those who think their homes have unwanted ghostly presences. But Wes and Izzy don’t get along, falling out over “an exorcism incident’ several years prior.

Izzy and Wes are brought back together by ‘Infrared’ producer Randy (co-director Nundlall) when the opportunity to explore the supposedly haunted Lincoln School building is presented to them by Geoff, aka “The Owner’s Manual”, played with a typically focus-pulling energy by cult figure Greg Sestero. Destined to be forever known as ‘Mark’ in Tommy Wiseau’s The Room, Sestero is an always engaging presence and is called upon to do some feverish improv and ‘big character’ work as he guides the crew around the shadowy halls and abandoned classrooms.

There are hints that the building is more than it seems (Geoff continually refers to it as ‘her’ and ‘she’) and soon, even as they start to repair their fractious relationship, Izzy and Wes find themselves at its mercy. Janzen and Finity have great screen chemistry, their sibling energy convincing and crucial to making some familiar runnin’-&-screamin’ in the final act as involving as it plays out. 

In the hands of its young helmers, Infrared employs elements of the found-footage pic that are as old as handheld photography itself yet crafts them into an assured, refreshingly gore-free, gleefully good-time frightener. 

WITCHES OF BLACKWOOD

Stars: Cassandra Margrath, Kevin Hofbauer, Lee Mason, Susan Vasiljevic, Francesca Waters, Nikola Dubois, John Voce, Nicholas Denton and Francesca Waters.
Writer: Darren Markey
Director: Kate Whitbread

WITCHES OF BLACKWOOD will release day-and-date on September 7 on DVD and Premium TVOD, followed by a full digital release.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Reaffirming the long held cinematic maxim that anyone who lives in a small country town has something horrible to hide, Kate Whitbread’s flavourful, female-focused ‘Australian Gothic’ chiller Witches of Blackwood spins a slow burn narrative steeped in dark memories and sinister secrets to increasingly potent effect. 

Cassandra McGrath stars as Claire Nash, a cop relieved of duty while the suicide of a young man (a terrific Nicholas Denton) in her presence is being investigated. A phone call from her Uncle Cliff (Brit actor John Voce) brings Claire home to the bush township of Blackwood; her dilapidated family home, scene to moments of mystery and menace in the past, needs tending. 

Despite its pretty eucalyptus backdrop, Blackwood is a soulless place, its streets empty but for a few sallow-eyed women, wandering aimlessly. Horrors begin to arise around Claire; gruesome animal remains, a blood-soaked woman in her bathtub, ethereal visions in the bushlands. As hinted at not-so-subtly in the US title (it was ‘The Unlit’ during its limited cinema season Down Under), the dark spirits that haunt Blackwood are emerging and tied directly to the legacy left by Claire’s family.

The first act of Darren Markey’s script hits character beats that establish Claire and her mental anguish, but meanders on its journey to Blackwood. The film finds surer footing as the spectre of the supernatural surfaces. McGrath plays ‘unravelling sanity’ well and the confluence of her past and Blackwood’s present gives the actress some emoting opportunities that don’t always arise in genre pics. The twist that bridges the ‘then and now’ and brings Claire’s journey full circle is as well-handled as any of M. Night Shyamalan’s recent efforts.

The on-trend ‘folk horror’ vibe, including the full extent of the coven’s bloodlust, delivers in gruesome detail. While it lacks the mythological backstory of Ari Aster’s Midsommar or warped psychology of Darren Aronofsky’s Mother!, the oppressive darkness that smothers the township and courses through Claire makes Witches of Blackwood an intriguingly nightmarish entry in the genre.

WHEN I'M A MOTH

Stars: Addison Timlin, TJ Kayama and Toshiji Takeshima.
Writer: Zachary Cotler.
Directors: Zachary Cotler and Magdalena Zyzak.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Taking as their starting point a small window of ambiguity in the private history of a very public figure, directors Zachary Cotler and Magdalena Zyzak imagine a formative time in the Alaskan boondocks of 1969 for one Hillary Rodham. A commanding central performance by Addison Timlin and the skill of DOP Lyn Moncrief, whose lensing affords the film the evocative aesthetic of a European chamber piece, ensure When I’m a Moth is a captivating, if determinedly atypical study of political drive.     

Based upon a throwaway (and frustratingly unprovable) passage in her 2003 autobiography Living History, in which Rodham claims to have gone full blue-colour on a fish cannery production line after her accomplished college years, When I’m a Moth presents 20-something Hillary energised by ‘Summer of Love’ free-spiritedness yet still tied to her privileged upbringing and focussed ambition. She has travelled north to Valdez to experience ‘life’, but social graces, a crisply-worn red jacket and her writing desk downtime, penning  pristine handwritten letters home to her parents, suggest you can take the girl out of Wellesley, but…

America is embroiled in the Vietnam War, which may be why Rodham reaches out to two Japanese fishermen who eye her off daily (and why Cotler sets the men’s hometowns as Nagasaki and Hiroshima, also victims of America’s military might in years past). Mitsuru (Toshiji Takeshima; above, left) is the hardened elder, unmoved and a little disdainful of Rodham’s intellectual chit-chat; the younger Ryohei (TJ Kayama; above, right) is intrigued, and soon he and Rodham are connecting...kind of. She woos him, albeit unwittingly, with her sweet, sexy smarts, exuding promise and the potential for greatness, but when his dreams start to include her, she withdraws; ultimately, she won’t even reveal her surname to him. 

There is a strong vein of symbolism in When I’m a Moth, no less so than in the romantic connection between the two leads. Hilary’s appeal to Ryohei and her ultimate rejection speaks to the lure, disillusionment and disappointment many immigrants experience when chasing the ‘American Dream’. The film's landscape is bathed in a dreamlike haze, often the mist rolling in off the Alaskan waters but also soft-focus candles, pitch-black backgrounds and discordant angles; the world of Hilary's northern sojourn is as imagined as the narrative.

Addison Timlin is a revelation as Hilary; physically, she appears as one imagines Rodham may have 50+ years ago but, more importantly, she sells the musings of a fresh-out-of-college young WASP woman as focused and singularly linear. Rodham’s drive to succeed in public service life and ambitions of life in the highest office she can envision is conveyed with piercing clarity in Timlin’s performance. 

Also conveyed is the centrifugal force that Rodham would become, often to her detriment. Her journey to Alaska was to garner other-world experience yet, like a missionary spreading the gospel, she is equally enriched by how those around her react in her presence. As an imagined construct of a tiny portion of Hilary Rodham’s maturing, When I’m a Moth embodies the very essence of how both supporters and detractors would come to perceive America’s most popular un-elected Presidential candidate.

YOU CANNOT KILL DAVID ARQUETTE

Featuring: David Arquette, Christina McLarty Arquette, Rosanna Arquette, Patricia Arquette, Courtney Cox, Coco Arquette, Jack 'Jungle Boy' Perry, ‘Diamond’ Dallas Page, Rj Skinner, Eric Bischoff and Jerry Kubik.
Writers/directors: David Darg and Price James.

YOU CANNOT KILL DAVID ARQUETTE will be available on digital platforms September 6 in Australia via Blue Finch Film Releasing.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

From its title on down, this study of a man determined to right a wrong while reigniting his celebrity is filled with layers of meaning. The words ‘You Cannot Kill David Arquette’ is certainly a rousing declaration from the actor that there is still life and promise in him yet. They could also work as a contract stipulation for any pro wrestlers involved in the production, so hated was Arquette in the wake of a 20 year-old publicity stunt that made him wrestling’s most reviled figure.

In 2000, David Arquette was leaning into the perception that the exciting young actor who had emerged in the booming ‘90s indie sector was also a bit...kooky. He had broken out as goofball cop Dewey in the Scream franchise and decided to double-down the on-screen daffiness with a lead role in the wrestling comedy, Ready to Rumble. To promote the film, he got in the ring with real-life wrestling giants and walked away with the WCW World Heavyweight Championship; fans were less than impressed (and baulked on watching Ready to Rumble, which bombed).        

You Cannot Kill David Arquette finds the man nearing 50, happily married to Christina McLarty Arquette (the film’s producer), but in the career doldrums. It is not immediately obvious why he would want to return to the scene of his infamy other than honouring the old adage, ‘any publicity is good publicity’, but motivations emerge; he loves wrestling, has since childhood, and is tormented that he will forever be, in his words, “a smear on its legacy.”

In tracking Arquette’s arduous return to, first physical activity, then the professional circuit, directors David Darg and Price James capture aspects of the man that drag their film, kicking and screaming at times, beyond a chronicle of eccentricity. Arquette’s mental health and the potential impact upon his addiction issues is examined; the very real concern for his physical well-being, given pre-existing conditions; and, how his family (including sisters Patricia and Rosanna, teenage child Coco and ex-wife Courtney Cox) view his typically unpredictable career choices.

And Arquette puts in the hard yards. The physique goes from ‘dad bod’ to an athlete’s frame over the course of the film. He earns pro-wrestling cred by pitting himself against backyard battlers (who absolutely f**kin’ hate him) and plunging into the choreographed theatricality of Mexico City’s luchadores troupes. In one legitimately shocking sequence, he suffers a near-fatal neck-wound when an exhibition match goes bad. Emotions take a hit, too; the film is dedicated to Arquette’s friend, the late Luke Perry. 

If it is the spirit of pro-wrestling that the actor wants to honour with his return to the canvas, You Cannot Stop David Arquette works wonderfully to that end. It is, in equal measure, a rousing sports-drama narrative and pure bells-&-whistles; a study in struggle and pain to achieve a personal goal and managed spectacle in the name of putting on a great show. If that doesn’t capture the essence of the sport, it’d be hard to pinpoint what does, and ought to correct the anti-Arquette sentiment amongst his fellow leotard-lovers.

WEREWOLVES WITHIN

Stars: Sam Richardson, Milana Vayntrub, George Basil, Sarah Burns, Michael Chernus, Catherine Curtin, Wayne Duvall, Harvey Guillén, Rebecca Henderson, Cheyenne Jackson, Michaela Watkins, Glenn Fleshler.
Writer: Mishna Wolff.
Director: Josh Ruben

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

A proposed pipeline creates divisions within the small town of Beaverfield and a snowstorm traps its residents together inside the local inn, all within the zippy first act of Werewolves Within. The newly-arrived forest ranger Finn (Sam Richardson) and postal worker Cecily (Milana Vayntrub), must try to keep the peace and uncover the truth behind a mysterious creature that begins terrorizing the community in director Josh Ruben’s spin on that most precarious of sub-genres, the feel-good horror romp.

Keeping that peace is a lot harder said than done - just about everyone in the snowbound township has a beef with each other. Hillbilly mechanics, environmental scientists, nature-be-damned capitalists, conservative suburbanites and the only same-sex couple in the village end up stuck together in the cosy bed-&-breakfast, with not only a rampaging lycanthrope but also a gun-toting mountain man to deal with.

Ruben returned to his rural roots to tell this story; from the press notes, he grew up in the in and around a landscape just like the setting for Werewolves Within. He clearly loves this milieu and loves these characters, but he’s also got in scriptwriter Mishna Wolff (yep, that’s her name) a wordsmith that can supply the ensemble with crackling dialogue and a very funny, twisty narrative, the best of it’s kind since Knives Out.

Sam Richardson steps up to likable leading man status after his sidekick stints, notably in Veep, and he shares a lovely chemistry with the cherubic Milana Vayntrub. The small-town setting, trope subversion, expertly-etched bit players and zippy camerawork make this the best Edgar Wright film Edgar Wright didn’t make; it’d fit very nicely alongside any of the Cornetto trilogy, especially Hot Fuzz. 

In werewolf movie history, it’s got less hairy, bone-cracking transformation moments than classics like The Howling or An American Werewolf in London, but that seems deliberate; as the title suggests, Werewolves Within is less about the monster manifested and more about the beast within us all. On its own terms, it’s hugely enjoyable and certainly earns its place amongst the best of the genre.

CLAW

Stars: Chynna Walker, Richard Rennie, Mel Mede, Ken ’Gabby’ Mertz and Roger the Raptor.
Writer: Gerald Rascionato and Joel Hogan
Director: Gerald Rascionato

WORLD PREMIERE: Byron Bay Underground Film Festival, Saturday May 22 at 8.30pm. Tickets available at the official festival website.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Eliciting the same thrills as the best moments from Jurassic Park and capturing the endearing buddy-comedy chemistry of cult fave Tremors, Claw proves a surefire crowd-pleaser. Clearly made with an un-ironic appreciation for the creature features of yesteryear (ie, the 90s) and a degree of skill that elevates the small scale production into something very big, director Gerald Rascionato’s monster-movie lark deserves global genre festival attention ahead of a long shelf life via whichever smart streamer acquires it.

Rascionato and co-writer Joel Hogan understand that the hard exposition work has already been done by Messrs Chrichton and Spielberg, so next-to-no time is spent on any of that ‘mosquito in amber’ malarkey (some razzle-dazzle gene-splicing graphics behind the opening credits suffices). Instead, their script invites the audience immediately into the friendship of Julia (Chynna Walker) and her bestie Kyle (Richard Rennie), deep in desert highway territory on their way to her big stand-up comedy break in LA. 

Circumstances dictate that they must spend the night with ghost town loner Ray (Mel Mede), an adventure that spins out of control when that most cinematic of prehistoric villains, the velociraptor (credited as ‘Roger the Raptor’), escapes from the confines of a nearby crazy scientist (Ken ’Gabby’ Mertz). The narrative proceeds to careen from one near-death escape to another, with just enough breathing space between the action to maintain audience empathy for the protagonists.

In a star-making turn, Walker’s small frame but strong physical presence is a major asset to the production; her confrontations with ‘Roger’ are legitimately thrilling. More importantly, the actress has a winning on-screen vibe with Rennie, who slots into the ‘damsel in distress’ role with endearing flair. Some of the script’s best moments involve the pair’s initial distrust of Mede’s Ray, recalling the ‘stereotype deconstruction’ genre comedy of 2010’s Tucker and Dale vs Evil, and are indicative of the smarter-than-usual investment that Hogan and Rascionato have written into their B-movie concept.

The director also takes cues from Spielberg’s other great monster movie Jaws, keeping his villain a growling presence largely in the shadows for much of the film’s first half. When unleashed, however, ‘Roger’ relentlessly pursues our heroes more in line with a Jason Vorhees/Michael Myers type. The effects team, supervised by industry veteran Steve Clarke, have crafted a top-tier CGI character that is seamlessly inserted into the action.

CENTRAL PARK

Stars: Justiin A. Davis, Grace Van Patten, Deema Aitken, Ruby Modine, Guillermo Arribas, Michael Lombardi, Sarah Mezzanotte, Jordyn DiNatale, Marina Squerciati, Malika Samuel, Nicole Balsam, David Valcin and Justin Reinsilber.
Writer/Director: Justin Reinsilber

Now streaming in Australia and New Zealand on Fetch, iTunes, Google Play and YouTube.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

From the opening frames of Justin Reinsilber’s slasher redux Central Park, one senses that the writer-director knows his genre tropes to the letter. A gentle camera pan across the New York skyline, followed by a slow zoom into the lush, green lungs of the metropolis, the serenity of the images made boisterous by a grab-bag of ambient city sound effects...the year could be 1980, and Joe Spinell’s ‘maniac’ could be sharpening his scalpel just out frame.

Which suggests that Central Park is just another fanboy homage to those slice-and-dice VHS rentals, a film that would play just as well (probably, better) in the pan-&-scan format, peppered with snowy scratches growing deeper with every roll over an uncleaned VCR head. But feature debutant Reinsilber has several years worth of variations on the kids-in-the-woods narrative on his mind and drags his teen blood-bags into at least the first decade of the 2000s. His narrative references (many times over) the Bernie Madoff scandal and, in a heartfelt moment only a true New Yorker could fathom, an orphaned teenager’s grief over 9/11.

Beats more familiar with 90s-style ‘masked killer’ slashers (Scream, 1996; I Know What You Did Last Summer, 1997) provide the framework. The social standing of preppy rich-kid Harold (Justiin A. Davis) is taking a beating after it’s revealed his father has Ponzi-ed the hell out NYC’s wealthiest, most of whom have kids in H’s class. With his hot socialite gf Leyla (Grace Van Patten), her bestie Sessa (Ruby Modine), doper Mikey (Deema Aitken), third wheel Donna (Malika Samuel) and bro’ dude Felix (Guillermo Arribas), he heads deep into Central Park to smoke and drink his blues away.

The film’s raison d'être is to kill off the rich kids, of course, and there is some tension created in trying to deduce which of these brats will emerge mostly intact. To his credit, Reinsilber’s script has ambition’s beyond blood’n’gore (though visual and sound effects departments deliver in that regard); he weaves initially ambiguous subplots (a school teacher and his wife; two cranky veteran cops) into a third act resolve that has a genuine element of surprise. This extends to not one but two mysterious figures in the park, with their identities and motives intertwined, ultimately providing further moments of unexpected plotting. The ending plays like a franchise kicker, but not in the manner usually associated with slasher pics.   

Ironically, contemporary elements undo some of Reinsilber’s good work. Mobile phones play too big a part in plot developments, either found coincidentally or not used when they should be. Credibility is also stretched when one recalls that all this carnage is happening in Central Park, not the Appalachian Trail; running 50 feet in any direction means you’ll find a path, possibly some people, maybe a street. And when Nicole Balsam’s park patrol cop says it’s been a quiet night about 70 minutes into the film, one wonders where the f*** she’s been.

A final mention must be made of Eun-ah Lee’s cinematography, which recaptures the rich, dark shadows and warm colours of the New York City we know and love from when films were shot on film.

CENTRAL PARK - Trailer from Jinga Films on Vimeo.

APE CANYON

Stars: Jackson Trent, Anna Fagan, Donny Ness, Clayton Stocker Myers, Lauren Shaye, Skip Schwink, Emily Classen and Bob Olin.
Writer: Harrison Demchick
Directors: Joshua Land and Victor Fink

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

It plays cute at key moments, confidently relying on a sweet chemistry between the leads, but Ape Canyon is also a bittersweet tale of obsession, the kind that masks a deeper sadness and inspires men to acts of madness. Co-directors Joshua Land and Victor Fink let their narrative unfold in small increments, unlike the sweeping grandeur that author Herman Melville did in his epic tome Moby Dick – a work referenced in the opening frames and clearly a thematic touchstone for screenwriter Harrison Demchick.

Ape Canyon’s Ahab is Cal Piker (Jackson Trent), a boyish man struggling to cope with his mother’s passing. He hasn’t seen his sister, English teacher Samantha (Anna Fagan), since the funeral, until the day he lobs on her at work with the news that he wants her to accompany him on a hike. Out of the blue, Cal’s childhood obsession with the legendary American cryptid, Bigfoot, has been rekindled, and Samantha suddenly finds herself by Cal’s side, deep in the woods.

Samantha needs scant nudging to comprehend the whole endeavour is a mistake, and fate keeps trying to convince Cal of his pointless quest. Their tour guide Franklin (Skip Schwink) absconds with their valuables; fellow hikers, lovebirds Mark (Clayton Stocker Myers) and Gina (Lauren Shaye), are faking it in defiance of their romantic loneliness. Only Charlie (scene-stealer Donny Ness) has his heart, and bah mitzvah endowment, in the trip. But Cal, like Melville’s tortured and damaged protagonist, becomes myopically determined to reach the titular valley.

Trent and Fagan keep things light, even when more mature adults might have recognised the mental health issues at play. Their sibling bickering is authentic, in particular Fagan’s fraying frustration as Cal’s grip on reality. A few plot developments have that ‘only in the movies’ sheen (a jailbreak sequence pushes credulity), but personality and pacing serve to smooth over such moments.

Sasquatch die-hards will sense early on that, like the great white whale, our hairy hero is of most value to the production as a metaphorical presence. He comes to life briefly, in some beautifully crafted animation sequences (and a silly but funny dream sequence), but this is not the film to finally dispel the damage down by Harry and The Hendersons (Bobcat Goldthwaite’s terrific 2013 found-footage thriller, Willow Creek, came closest).