Review: ‘Bleeding’ tells a harrowing tale of addiction
Andrew Bell doesn’t hold back with his latest feature.
Vampire tales as allegory isn’t a new conceit. Whether drawing parallels to lust, greed, or addiction, vampires in literature and cinema serve as vehicles for larger conversations about human existence. From Daughters of Darkness to Salem’s Lot, these stories resonate across decades by exposing deeper layers of living and dying. More modern fare like Abigail, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person, and Slay infuse their blood-encased sagas with prickly and poignant ideas about what it means to survive contemporary society while remaining rooted in tradition. With Bleeding, writer/director Andrew Bell bends vampiric conventions to tell a harrowing account of addiction.
Sean (Jasper Jones) finds himself at the mercy of a drug dealer. With vein-clawing dependency, he struggles to cope with a strained home life and an abusive father. He turns to a drug known as “blood” (the blood of vampires contains hallucinogenic properties) to muddle through his existence. His cousin Eric (John R. Howley) attempts to help him transition off the drug, but as the dealer draws closer, pressures mount and lead Sean to lean further on blood to manage the anxieties swelling in his brain. On the run, the duo breaks into an empty home where they discover a young teen named Sara (Tori Wong) tied up in one of the bedrooms.
When the dealer finally tracks them down, things grow more dire and lead to a near drug overdose. Addiction is a helluva beast to conquer, and many never recover — left to scavenge on their own without a proper support system. Eric quickly loses sympathy for Sean when he believes his cousin has (once again) relapsed. But the truth is far more complicated than that. The story is straight as an arrow, but the downward spiral makes the film a powerful, relentless, and uncomfortable watch. With addiction as the driving force, the film will make you squirm in your seat and test your limits for compassion. That’s how addiction operates; it seizes the victim around the throat and won’t allow them to break free. Gasping for air, Sean soon learns a hard lesson about his own accountability.
Andrew Bell sketches a fascinating and devastating portrait of addiction and how it destroys relationships. Eric and Sean embody both ends of the spectrum. While Eric’s mother battles mental illness, often causing her to neglect her son, he doesn’t succumb to blood. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, forced to grow up far sooner than he should. Despite it all, Eric doesn’t buckle under the stress and only grows stronger as the story unravels.
With the world closing in, Sean faces the consequences of his actions. His humanity is tested, and he must summon up the strength to fight back or die trying. The fragility Jones brings to the character elicits empathy from the audience, as Bell pulls you further into the story and you realize that addiction is not so easy to overcome. Similarly, Howley digs his teeth into the intricacies of his character in a way that sheds light on the complex nature of knowing a drug addict. From the outside looking in, it might seem a simple process to extricate oneself from another — but life doesn’t exist in black and white. It’s almost always shades of grey.
As the title suggests, Bleeding flows with copious amounts of blood and biting and sucking. Andrew Bell uses horror mechanics to great effect, ably walking a tightrope between genres. It operates within the shadows between horror and drama. It’s never just one or the other. It’s always both. And that’s why it works on every level. Bell’s bold conversations here invite the viewer to engage with the material in a way that is both confrontational and sensitive. To have these discussions, a person needs to be able to face the truth without sacrificing emotion. It’s a perfect balance Bell hits right on the head — and he leaves no stone unturned.
Bleeding recently premiered at Grimmfest. A VOD date is yet to be announced.
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