Somehow, it has been more than twenty years since the term “The Splat Pack” was coined. It referred to a loosely connected group of filmmakers making gory horror movies around the turn of the millennium. The likes of James Wan and James Gunn have become immensely successful, both within the genre and outside. Others, like Eli Roth and Rob Zombie, still put out a new movie every once in a while. Most of them never quite broke through with the mainstream and have largely stuck to the indie scene, like Neil Marshall and Greg McLean. Alexandre Aja, being European, has always been slightly apart from the others. He has obviously done very well for himself, with "Crawl" being his last big hit, even if his later work has perhaps not lived up to the promise of "Haute Tension" and "The Hills Have Eyes." A lot of his work continues to slip through the cracks though Aja came back this year with “Never Let Go,” which was mostly lost in the constant shuffle of new movies coming and going from theaters. I'm the thorough type so it's time to see if this one is a hidden gem or rightfully overlooked.
Deep in the forest, young brothers Samuel and Nolan live with their mother. Their entire lives, Momma has told them that the world was destroyed by a great Evil. That this force worms its way into your body and possesses you with a single touch. The family, and their dog, live in a cabin made of blessed wood. The only way they can protect themselves when outside the cabin is by holding onto a rope that connects them to the house. As their food supplies run out and their mother announced they'll have to eat the family dog to survive, Nolan becomes increasingly skeptical about the existence of the Evil. Sam remains a true believer, however. The brothers' disagreement over the beliefs they grew up with will only grow more intense as their situation gets increasingly desperate.
The world of fiction has presented us with a thousand different takes on the premise of people forced to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. Too often, the genre is worn down to survivalist fantasies about being free to run amok in a world without society's rules or getting to rebuild a "better" world than the one that exists now. "Never Let Go," at the very least, defies either of these trite set-ups. Instead, this is a film very clearly about how surviving in the world after the fall of polite society would definitely suck. The family survives on a meager garden. When a rough winter renders that useless, they turn to eating bugs and tree bark. When mom threatens to kill and cook their dog, she is planning to cannibalize only the fourth other living thing these boys have other known. The actors look emaciated and sunken eyed, a good depiction of individuals on the brink of starvation. "Never Let Go" is not a doomsday prepper's wish fulfilment fantasy. This is a harsh existence for these characters and not one to envy.
The real reason why "Never Let Go" doesn't expand more on the origins of its demonic force is simple: That movie isn't truly about that. Instead, the film represents Alexandre Aja trying his hand at another well-worn, if less popular these days, style: The Southern Gothic story. It is never specified where this story takes place. Judging from the accent Halle Berry adapts at Momma, we can assume it's somewhere in the American South. The thick trees of the surrounding forest, with its willowy branches and entangling vines, suggests rural Alabama or the less swampy parts of Louisiana. (The movie, of course, like so many low budget genre films, was shot in Canada.) Wherever the story takes place, the isolation the characters live with clearly connect it to the Southern Gothic tradition. The sins of the past, regrets, familial anxiety, religious fanaticism, all out in a dilapidated country home besieged by outside forces and colored by distinct accents: Yes, we are for sure in Tennessee Williams country here.
Whether "Never Let Go" is a good example of a Southern Gothic story is much more debatable. It makes good use of its desolate, isolated setting. However, the more blatant attempts to capture a particularly "Southern" feel comes off as a bit campy. The modern horror cliché of an old song, played on a rickety viola, eventually being subverted for creepy ambiance is used. The song this time is "Big Rock Candy Mountain," another choice that feels more goofy than scary to me while also overemphasizing the deep south setting. The film is structured like a novel, with on-screen chapter breaks, which gives the impression that this is an adaptation of regional novel. It's not. Kevin Coughlin and Ryan Grassby wrote the script on-spec, under the title "Mother Land." Mostly, the accents the actor adopt – Halle Berry especially – feel very put-on and cartoonish to me. In other words, this does not feel like a story influenced by actually living in the American South but more movies and books set in that region.
The boys' mother is, from any perspective, abusive. She makes her sons prayer to the house and its holy wood every night. She often tossed them into an underground cellar and forces them to stay there, until they've pushed any influence the Evil might have on their minds out. Despite these extreme methods, the simple fact remains that the boys still love their mother. Samuel, on the other hand, begins to hear the Evil whispering in his ear too. Divorced of its fantastical content, this is the story of a mentally ill parent that has passed her condition onto one child, while the other struggles to correlate how someone he loves, who genuinely loves him, has treated him so badly. Its climax is one of acceptance and love, in spite of these flaws. In a genre landscape where "elevated" horror films foreground their metaphors to the point of practically excluding the scary stuff, "Never Let Go" must be commended for being the slightest bit subtle about this.
Unlike a lot of the would-be Jordan Peeles or Robert Eggers out there, Alexandre Aja is definitely not afraid of making a horror movie. In some ways, "Never Let Go" harkens back to the kind of films the director got his start with: Gory throwbacks to seventies and eighties horror. The film's cabin setting, story of demonic possession, and central role for a trap door brings a clear influence to mind. This is Aja paying homage to "The Evil Dead." When the rotting, bile spewing spectre of the boy's grandmother appears and begins to bleat like a goat, you definitely feel the Raimi influence. Sometimes, this works well too. The finale features some stylized camera angles and brutally edited attack scenes, recalling Aja's best work. A scene where a little girl becomes a contorting, multi-limbed human centipede is, ya know, a clever visual. There's some good spurting blood too. Unfortunately, "Never Let Go" does not maintain those frantic thrills throughout. In fact, quite a lot of scenes involving screeching, twitching undead visions strike me as more silly than scary. Sometimes a horror director makes a swing and it ends up on the wrong end of the absurd/unsettling chasm.
A better film could have kept that question lingering in the air longer, leaving us increasingly unsure of what is actually happening in such ways as to up the suspense. Instead, the script spoils its own ambiguity by showing us what is actually happening here. In the ever-more frustrating last third, the script then repeatedly backtracks on what exactly the truth is. "Never Let Go" wants its cake and to eat it too. Or, rather, wants to add some psychological complexity to its setting while still providing the monster movie thrills the audience wants. The film continues this flip-flopping right up to the final second, making me roll my eyes hard right before the credits roll. Put some convictions behind your premise and respect the audience's intelligence rather than tying your own story in knots to prove how clever you are.
Tempting as it is to dismiss "Never Let Go" as another disappointing half-assed measure from a once promising director, I do think Alexandre Aja and his team were working very hard to make a good movie here. Aja's regular cinematographer, Maxime Alexandre, does handsome work. He makes the forest look properly foreboding. Fog and the extremely green foliage adds a lot of depth to each frame, presenting the idea that anything could be out there nicely. French electric artist rob also collaborates with Aja again, creating a decent score that knows when to ramp up the ominous strings and doesn't lean too hard on the increasingly worn-out synthwave sound. The cast does decent work. Despite that wavering, unsure accent, I do think Halle Berry adds some complexity to the role of the mother, showing her fear and uncertainty but also a warmth and love. Percy Daggs IV and Anthony B. Jenkins, as Nolan and Samuel, give sturdy performance. Daggs does especially well, more-or-less carrying the movie on his own in the second half, allowing the boy to come off as both brave and frightened. Jenkins doesn't get to express quite as much depth but he, at least, avoids the obnoxious clichés of the creepy kid subgenre. There's also a neat looking monster in the finale, which appears to have been made entirely through practical make-up.
