Warning: there’s some mildly spoileriffic discussion further on.
After some disquieting foreshadowing of things to come including hearing of
the suicide of a former patient at her workplace, psychiatric nurse Karen (Ilona
Elkin) is probably looking forward to a quiet, drunk night at home.
Unfortunately, this isn’t going to happen, for a Christian cult with a huge
following has decided that tonight’s the night of the Apocalypse. Their
interpretation of scripture is rather avantgarde, for they believe that it is
their duty to gruesomely murder anyone they can get their hands on to save their
souls. They think the parts of humanity still alive when it’s time for the
Anti-Christ’s arrival (coming-out?) are all eternally damned, and will possibly
become the basis for the army of the devil.
It’s a theory at least. Karen soon finds the few passengers of the nearly
empty subway she’s riding in who aren’t crazy cultists in the process of being
violently saved. A small number of survivors has to make their way through the
subway tunnels fighting the Christian hordes.
As far as I understand it, Maurice Devereaux’s End of the Line was
financed by the director/writer/producer editor out of his own pocket, which
explains some of the weaknesses of the film but also makes the surprising number
of qualities the film does have even more impressive.
However, let’s start with the worst, and it’s not exactly an unexpected
problem in indie horror – it is of course the acting. As is often the case in
this part of the genre, the general acting approach is rather stiff and
unnatural, with an emphasis on acting as a pretence an actor assumes instead of
anything that feels more organic. I assume it has something to do with actors
who don’t have much actual experience with screen acting working for directors
who don’t have that much either and simply can’t afford going all Kubrick on
their talents. Then there are the handful of actors who are just plain bad, most
probably a problem nearly unavoidable when you’re getting a film on the ground
with only the most basic means and no entourage of high class actors out to do
you a favour; those guys prefer buddying it up with Steven Soderbergh.
Fortunately, Devereaux does keep the worst of the bunch in the least important
roles (not always a given in these films), and the central speaking roles are in
the hands of actors who are only a bit awkward.
That’s the film’s main indie horror trademark, though. Sure, some of the
attack scenes aren’t staged perfectly, and the gore’s more enthusiastic than
effective, but End of the Line is missing the major hallmarks that make
indie horror (where “indie” actually means self-financed or financed on a
private level, not professionally made by small production companies – so
homemade, if you will) often so frustrating: the editing’s professional,
sensible and effective, there’s a decided lack of those scenes that just won’t
stop for no good reason, no feeling of the film ever dragging its feet –
everything we see is actually part of the story Devereaux is telling; the film’s
staging is usually atmospheric, providing an actual sense of the subway train
and the surrounding tunnels as a physical space, which the director uses for to
good effect in various chases and assorted suspense scenes; and the script just
happens to be tight and clever.
Indeed, the script just might be End of the Line’s strongest point,
with deft characterisation, a sense for the creepy based on slight and then
increasing exaggerations of the normal, and an ending that keeps the truth of
the cultists’ beliefs ambiguous while still showing the monsters. This ambiguity
is desperately necessary too, for otherwise, the film would actually be about a
bunch of Christians singing a horrible hymn saving everyone’s souls by brutal
violence, turning our actual protagonists into future agents of Satan, which
would open up all kinds of problems, like pissing off every non-Evangelical in
the audience. As the film handles it, there’s a breadcrumb trail of hints for a
more natural – if somewhat bizarre - explanation of the film’s plot running
through it that you might notice, or you might not, and that you might accept,
or you might not, and the possibly supernatural things we witness only fits half
to what the cultists state they belief; plus, they’re clearly crazy.
It’s quite wonderfully done, and film handles most everything else it
attempts with the same thoughtfulness and through the same cleverness of
solution, turning End of the Line into a much better film than anyone
could expect of it.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
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