All You Need is Death (Glasgow Frightfest 2024)(Review)

“Folk horror” is a term which has been applied to a large variety of vastly different, and occasionally disparate, pieces of genre film and fiction – yet what ties together almost all of those works is one central, core concept; that which is past is not dead, and furthermore, it is coming back. In the wider world of culture, the job of an archivist is to exhume, resurrect, and preserve what remains of the past; yet in regards to media preservation, there is always the ethical dilemma of how much credit, financial or otherwise, an archivist should take for unearthing and restoring the forgotten work of an artist. As a necromancer of the art world, will you truly bring life to the dead, or will you play the role of a ventriloquist and create the illusion of life for your own gain?

Plagiarism has once again become somewhat of a hot topic in the past year, thanks to several high-profile YouTuber scandals and the controversial rise of AI “art”, and it is also one of the key topics discussed and explored in All You Need Is Death, an “ethnomusicology shocker” and Irish folk nightmare which just had its premiere at the 2024 edition of Glasgow FrightFest. The narrative feature debut of filmmaker and documentarian Paul Duane, All You Need Is Death follows a young couple, Anna (Simone Collins) and Aleks (Charlie Maher), who make their living by travelling around rural Ireland and recording the traditional tunes of local folk singers – and selling said recordings to wealthy private collectors, the profits of which never make their way to the original artists. An elderly musician (Barry Gleeson) informs the two of Rita Concannon (Mandy’s Olwen Fouéré), a reclusive old woman, and the last of a long line of impressive female vocalists; upon meeting her, the pair learn of a pre-Gaelic ballad that has been passed down through the generations of Concannon women since ancient times – one which is forbidden to be recorded or written down, and one which men are not permitted to hear. When a secret recording is made of one of Concannon’s performances, an ancient and all-consuming curse is resurrected, the nature of which is not fully understood until it is far too late.

All You Need Is Death is quite the intriguing curio, to say the least – and one which will undoubtedly divide audiences. It’s a slow, strange, ever-morphing work that clearly cares just as much about the “folk” element as much as the “horror”, possibly even moreso; director Duane has previously mentioned that there aren’t enough folk horror films which are actively about folk music, and there’s no doubt that this film shows the care and understanding he has of the history of Irish folk song and the communities that have kept, and still keep, them alive. Aside from that element, it’s also a film which plays with some deeply fascinating topics and subject matter, including dysfunctional relationships, cultural interpretations of “love”, and gender-essentialism; the latter, in particular, is an intriguing aspect, and the lines between gender binaries blur further and further as the film goes on, with the idea of a “normal” body, particularly from a cisgender standpoint, being all-but-destroyed by the time you’ve reached its closing sequence.

Curious viewers should be warned that All You Need Is Death is as slow-burn as they come, with its terror frequently taking a shape more esoteric than overtly grotesque and visual (aside from a couple of key sequences, the contents of which I shall neither be disclosing nor discussing in this spoiler-free review). Its appeal is likely to be exceptionally niche – practically by design – and some may take a moment to get used to All You Need Is Death’s unique sound mix, which is somewhat akin to having the dialogue and soundtrack swimming around your head and tormenting you like some kind of wandering elemental force in the ether. Personally, I thought this was a really nice touch, one which is likely to blow viewers’ minds at the in-theatre FrightFest screening.

All You Need Is Death is not for everyone, a statement which should come as obvious for an ambitious, ethereal, lo-fi independent horror film about folk music archivists; this is, in fact, a good thing. Paul Duane’s film is a thoroughly original work – perhaps influenced by horrors of yesteryear, as practically all modern genre fiction can’t help but be, yet undeniably and wholly its own thing. It has the potential to cut like a knife with a blade for a handle. Why not take the risk and grip it?

Robyn’s Archive – All You Need is Death (2023)