Faceless After Dark (Grimmfest 2023)(Review)

At Grimmfest 2023, this critic asked director Raymond Wood if he considered Faceless after Dark to be a ‘woke’ film. He replied that he didn’t like the term, it was too vague and reductive, but described it as a feminist film from a man who considers himself a feminist ally. Despite this, Faceless after Dark can be described as a woke film in the best possible sense. To be woke is to be aware of social iniquities, and Wood’s film certainly has such awareness. 

If this sounds terribly political and preachy, it is worth remembering that much of horror, as well as science fiction and other genre cinema, is often shot through with political commentary. From the original Night of the Living Dead to Candyman to Get Out, from Black Christmas to Ginger Snaps to A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, horror has lent itself to the expression and exploration of social and political issues, especially because these issues are often fears. These fears make for great dramatization in the case of horror films. 

Faceless after Dark takes fears related to celebrity, parasocial relationships, toxic masculinity and fandom and combines them into a gloriously styled spiral through issues of mind, identity and creativity. Bowie (Jenna Kanell) is an actor, who starred in a low budget clown-based horror film. While this role has not catapulted Bowie to stardom, it has made her a regular on the horror convention circuit and attracts plenty of attention online, not all of it welcome. When one fan takes things a little too far, Bowie seizes on the opportunity to teach more such people a lesson, with increasingly gruesome and spectacular results.

As a discussion of fame, Faceless after Dark, or give it a fitting acronym, FAD, is insightful and merciless. The fan culture is presented as exploitative and thus ripe for exploitation. Bowie’s own filming, editing and stylisation of her actions, which spills over into the movie’s own styling, highlights this mutual exploitation. Little sympathy is garnered for the various victims who appear in the film, which perhaps reflects on the audience to ask what people need to do in order to gain our sympathy. The conceit of engaging audience sympathy or contempt is carried further by the introduction of those who condemn others for not adhering to particular social mores. Are they worth conversing with, respecting them though they show no such respect, or are they further fuel for the (literal) fire of brutal consumption? 

This exploitation turnabout is heightened by the film’s genre aspects, as several set pieces draw on home invasion tropes. Much of the film takes place in the home that Bowie shares with her partner and fellow actor Jessica (Danielle Lyn). When Jessica gets a job abroad, Bowie is left alone, checked in on by fellow filmmaker Ryan (Danny Kang), but largely left alone. A woman threatened in a domestic environment has been a staple of home invasion narratives from Lady in a Cage to Single White Female to Hush, and Wood makes excellent use of the space that serves both as a form of enclosure and the most malevolent type of studio. Hallways and staircases, living rooms and garages, all are starkly shot by DOP Randall Blizzard and richly textured by production designer Erin Day, presenting this house as both a comfortable living space, and a deadly trap of the mediatised world. 

To fully discuss Faceless after Dark also involves discussion of its creative history. Kanell previously starred in the clown horror hit Terrifier, and subsequently experienced stalking, received unwanted opinions online about her appearance and unrequested pictures of genitals (some of which are included in the film). Kanell turned these experiences into the screenplay for this film, co-written with Todd Jacobs. Some of the events are expanded upon (Kanell makes it clear that they have never killed anyone!), others are presented as Kanell experienced them. The film might be cathartic for Kanell, but it never feels indulgent or self-involved, as many female-presenting people are likely to recognise the toxicity and oppression that this film taps into. 

This real-world resonance adds to the genuine progressive credentials of this film. As mentioned, it is woke because it is awake, aware and engages with to the social issues it draws attention to. There is no lip service or tokenism here – this is a film that straight up declares the world is f*cked up and it will be f*cked up in response. On a simplistic level, it is a film that depicts a descent into madness, but a descent that is not only understandable but justifiable. There is an oft misquoted line from the play The Mourning Bride by William Congreve: ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’. Perhaps a more fitting one is hell hath no demon like an entitled man. In response to that demon, Faceless after Dark offers not only an engaging and compelling antihero, but perhaps a horror icon for the future. 

Vincent’s Archive – Faceless After Dark (2023)