Director Report Card: Larry Fessenden (2024)

8. Blackout

While Larry Fessenden has lent his talents to a wide variety of films as a character actor and producer, as a director, monster movies remain his first love. Almost every work he's personally directed has had a beastie or creature of some sort in it. With "Habit" and "Depraved," he did his own take on two of the big classic monster archetypes: Vampires and Frankenstein. Which, among fans of such things, raised a question: When was he going to make a werewolf movie? Clearly, this was an idea that's been on Larry's mind too. While producing found footage horror anthology, "V/H/S," he conceived of a wolfman segment that went unfilmed. In 2019, he expanded on the idea for his popular podcast series, "Tales from Beyond the Pale," with an episode entitled "Blackout." Four years later, a film with the same title and some of the same story elements would arise, finally seeing general release earlier this year. Among in-the-know indie horror fans, "Blackout" has been well-received as another idiosyncratic work from the established filmmaker. 

Artist Charley Barrett returns to the small town he grew up in. Following the death of his father, Charley has spiraled into alcoholism. This led to a breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Sharon. He is back home with the intention to resolve unfinished business. Jack Hammond – Sharon's dad – is a wealthy land developer currently pushing through a controversial new resort. Charley has uncovered documents from his late dad that he feels proves Hammond's shady business dealings. The town is torn on another issue too: A series of grisly murders have occurred, people torn apart by some sort of animal, and some are eager to blame the killings on the local Latino population. Charley knows the truth however. He knows, when the full moon rises, he transforms into a hairy, bloodthirsty monster. And he intends to make sure the killings stop.

From the title on down, "Blackout" frequently draws attention to Charley's alcoholism. When especially stressed, he stops in at a liquor store, grabs a bottle, and chugs it before getting back on the road. That night, he turns into a wolf while behind the wheel, leading to the deaths of two bystanders. The idea of booze turning a seemingly average man into a monster, then able to kill without question, is not an unexplored idea. The "werewolf as alcoholism" metaphor has been brought up often when discussing the subtext of this classic monster. Films like "Wolf" and "Silver Bullet" engage with the idea. The connection is all the more obvious when you consider the lives of Wolfman actors Oliver Reed and Lon Chaney. (Both of whom get shout-outs here.) The observation that an ordinary guy can turn into an uninhibited, violent monster is similar to the werewolf legend is nothing new. "Blackout" is only different in this approach by making the idea an acknowledged part of the story. Charley blackouts, wakes up the next day, terrified at what awful things he did while he wasn't himself. Is it a curse or the booze? 

The werewolf concept is also more versatile than that, which is why it has endured. Charley's erratic behavior has left his personal life in tatters but the bottle is not the magic potion that turns this Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. Until the very end of the film, we don't learn the circumstances that led our protagonist to becoming a lycanthrope. Instead, he talks about falling into a dark mood after his dad's death. The details are never explicitly stated but he clearly had a difficult relationship with his father, with hints at abuse of one form or another. His distance from his dad is apparent in a conversation when we learned he gifted his father a painting once and assumed he simply threw it away. Daddy issues are an intrinsic part of the werewolf legend too, going back to "The Wolf Man." A father looking into his son's eyes and only seeing a monster is another potent metaphor to draw from the werewolf story. (Star Alex Hurt is also the son of William Hurt and supposedly channel some of his own father/son turmoil into the role.)

However, Charley's dad is already dead before "Blackout" starts. Those wounds can never be fully resolved. In an early scene, Sharon tells Charley that there's a darkness inside him that she simply can't overlook. He tries to vent his stormy feelings through his art, often drawing or painting sinister canvases the day after he's had a transformation. In other words, there's something knotted up and disturbed inside this man. In "Blackout," the wolf isn't only a metaphor for alcoholism or father hang-ups. A mournful mood hangs over the entire film, climaxing with Charley's attempt to take his own life. Whether it be depression over the mistakes he's made or grief from never being able to resolve tattered bounds, the wolf represents the darkness inside Charley. And inside all of us. We are all cursed when we are born, with our genetic heritage and connections to other people, some of which are doomed to turn rotten. "Blackout" draws its power from that idea, that sorrow and misdeeds can well up inside any of us and is only looking for a chance to run wild. 

That darkness takes many forms too. Fessenden's monster movies have always featured a social or political subtext of some sort. It was environmental in "No Telling," "Wendigo," and "The Last Winter." "Depraved" took aim at soldiers who return home from war with debilitating conditions and the pharmaceutical industry that preys on them. I had read "Blackout" is Fessenden's commentary on the red-hatted fascism that has gripped America in the last decade. Certainly, this idea is floating around inside "Blackout" too. When Charley returns home, he sees political signs on the road that are both in favor and against the resort being built. The idea that Jack Hammond is obviously a corrupt businessman, whose dirty dealings are known to everyone but always seems to escape punishment by authorities, shielded by his wealth and status. He diverts attention away from his own crimes by immigrants and racial minorities. This technique has been wildly successful, as a band of redneck would-be crime stoppers repeatedly harass the Mexican man that is being blamed for the murder. Before the end, a gang of vigilantes come to round the innocent man up. In other words, "Blackout" is certainly Fessenden's movie about Trumpism, in the sense that it's about how the powerful and the corrupt exploit a fear of cultural outsiders to cover up the real threat they pose to the community. 

However, "Blackout" is not as heavy-handed as a lot of attempts to grapple with what the hell is happening in this country. Instead, the spectre of racism and xenophobia, which the powerful use as scapegoats, is merely another symptom of the darkness in the human soul. "Blackout" has an environmental element to it as well, as it's pointed out that the resort Hammond is building will have disastrous effects on the local wildlife. In a key scene, Charley talks with an old friend clearing trees for the incoming hotel. He asks him if he would still work this job if he knew exactly how crooked his boss is. The man makes a noncommittal answer, suggesting he probably would because he needs the work. And that's a big problem for all of us, isn't it? We are all trapped in this world and we all have to survive in it. Conmen like Trump and those like him come into power by playing on the economic insecurity we all deal with. 

"Blackout" points its eyes at the idea that these schisms are, more often than not, manufactured by these same cronies. Throughout "Blackout," it's pointed out that this town is divided. Neighbors have turned into enemies. Trust has broken down within the communities. The town preacher attempts to reach out to the lynch mob's better nature. Notably, the small town cops are depicted as a neutral force in this, which strikes me as an unlikely idea. Fessenden's answer to this division, that people are united by more than what separates them, may come off as hopelessly naïve in light of recent events. Nevertheless, "Blackout" is a lot more nuanced with its take on this subject than a lot of other stories have been. It attempts to understand the conditions that bred these problems, not merely invoke them as easily identified cultural boogeymen. 

"Blackout" is Charley's story, his personal journey being centered by most of the runtime. However, this is a movie about this whole town. As our protagonist returns home, he reconnects with one figure after another. Not just his ex but a lawyer that he clearly shares some chemistry with, a guitar strumming old friend, and people who knew his dad. The script takes its time to add a lot of local color and personality to even its most incidental characters. Without the werewolf, this would be an effecting low-key drama about a wayward man once again learning that going home is not so easy. The clear affection that Fessenden and the cast adds to this idea makes it a lot more believable though. Familiar faces like Barbara Crampton, Kevin Corrigan and James Le Gros appear to flesh these supporting characters out more, while the angsty but charming Alex Hurt makes for a compelling lead. 

There is a werewolf in this movie though. Fessenden has never been afraid of embracing his work's status as horror movies. "Blackout" begins with a stellar sequence of a young couple getting intimate in a field while being observed, and eventually attacked, by the wolf man. This is far from the only time the film gives into its pulpier instincts. The poster worthy image of Charley, all wolfed out, holding a shapely but dead woman in his arms is noteworthy. The finale features a torn off hand dangling from his slobbering jaws. There's more than enough slashed faces and torn out throats to satisfy any Fangoria readers in the audience. The make-up that brings Charley's wolf man form to life is knowingly humble. Hurt wears hairy claws and an elaborate mask while wearing work pants and a buttoned up shirt, much like Lon Chaney before him. You can feel Fessenden's joy, as a grown-up monster kid, in being able to play with these famous visual signifiers.

While the film certainly has fun dropping shout-outs to Larry Talbot and Paul Naschey's El Hombre Lobo, it has a lot more on its mind. The humping couple at the beginning aren't the only flesh on display in the film. Charley eventually comes to prey on Sharon, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt while spending time with her current beau. This plays off the age-old idea that a wolfman always targets the person he loves the most. It also centers this monster as a fleshy one, fixated on the blood and sinew of the human form. There is something sexy about a werewolf, isn't there? About embracing our more animal nature, losing control of our conscious, and ripping into people viciously. This speaks to both a sexual context and a societal one. As much as that wild animal lives in all of us, "Blackout" argues – with quite a degree of resigned sadness – that there has to be a better way though. Surely we can all put away our primitive instincts and focus on what's good for all of us, right? Maybe that hope is a more mature response to the state of the world today than giving into fear and that desire to rip another person apart. 

"Blackout" clearly blends its heady ideas about human nature and community with the monster movie thrills we expect. Fessenden is an old hand at this by now. "Blackout" undeniably looks and feels like a Fessenden joint. It has the carefully deployed indie rock soundtrack. The photography is both naturalistic and stylized, finding beauty and foreboding gravity aplenty in the natural world. "Blackout" is especially notable for showing the director's more playful visual eye. The dissociation of Charley's transformation result in some stylized visuals and camera tricks. Most notably when a flashback is illustrated as if its one of his paintings, a moment of animation in the film that caught me off-guard but I welcome just the same. "Blackout" shows the director staying true to the gritty but artistic instincts that has always made his work so distinctive. 

"Blackout" worked its spell on me for most of its runtime, delivering the sharply observed social commentary and grisly thrills I've come to expect with a surprisingly cozy cast bringing it to life. I was with the movie up until an unusually vague denouncement, which leaves the audience on a somewhat deflated feeling... While also featuring a cameo from the Frankensteinian star of Fessenden's "Depraved." While such pre-credits teasers of an interconnected cinematic universe might be an odd move from the fiercely independent Fessenden, he's harkening back to a much older tradition than Marvel movies. After all, Frankenstein met the Wolf Man long before the Avengers ever assembled. Whether this is a set-up for Fessenden making his own monster mash or merely a knowing nod at his inspiration remains to be seen. Either way, "Blackout" doesn't quite stick the landing while still being a bold take on a classic idea from one of the genre's cleverest auteurs, a smart creature feature with many things on its mind that never forgets that its monster is the star of the show. [Grade: A-]