Fantasia Fest 2020: ‘Climate of the Hunter’ soaks in ‘Dark Shadows’ melodrama

Vampires and their primal, nearly religious bloodlust carves into humanity’s “deeply inner (and especially sexual) temptations and doubts,” as Leonard Wolf describes in an introduction to 1997’s Blood Thirst: 100 Years of Vampire Fiction. He further notes “that the blood exchange represents every variety of sexual union,” before listing off various lustful links. From Bram Stoker’s Dracula to Anne Rice’s The Master of Rampling Gate to this year’s Netflix mini-series Dracula, eroticism has always been a vital cornerstone in vampire folklore. It’s no wonder Mickey Reece’s Climate of the Hunter emerges as a psycho-sexual blood-feast, calling back to the melodrama of Dark Shadows and other ’70s erotic fantasies.

With a script co-written with John Selvidge (T-Rex, Man Sitting in Chair), Climate of the Hunter follows two sisters Alma (Ginger Gilmartin, Fingerprints, If Looks Could Kill) and Elizabeth (Mary Buss, Lord Finn, She’s the Eldest) and their tantalizing entanglement with one man. Wesley (Ben Hall, Gosnell: The Trial of America’s Biggest Serial Killer) is a smooth-talker extraordinaire, oozing a dangerous charm akin to Barnabas Collins. They’ve known him since high school but haven’t laid their doo-eyed stares upon him in 20 years. Set at Alma’s lakeside cabin, the story burns with a vintage sparkle, a deep, mystical longing appears to coat the camera work, and frame-by-frame, the viewer is lured into a bedeviling world that we’ve all likely forgotten.

When days seem to flicker by like a candle in the waning hours of dawn, Wesley casts a hypnotic spell, and you simply can’t remove your eyes from him. Even Alma’s estranged daughter Rose (Danielle Evon Ploeger, Last Girl Standing) gets caught in his deceitful, blood-hungry web, igniting the third act’s absolutely bonkers unraveling. While the script doesn’t always work, and a few side characters feel out of their element, the core cast keeps the motor running just fine.

Alma’s history of mental disorders serves as much a deceptive hook for the other characters, namely Elizabeth and Rose, as the viewer. Wesley’s sensual vibrations are meant to further blur the lines between reality and fantasy, and we’re not supposed to completely understand if what is happening is Alma’s tortured hallucinations or bloody ravages of a lunatic. When it is revealed Wesley’s wife Genevieve (Laurie Cummings, Birdie) has been locked away in a mental asylum, due to her catatonic state and seemingly grotesque appearance, you’re lead to wonder if she, too, possesses a vampiric nature. And the story doesn’t quite make that clear enough; in fact, the ending is somewhat of a head-scratcher.

More than anything, Climate of the Hunter is a mesmerizing exhibit in craftsmanship and style. Reece pays homage to classic filmmaking, from the film’s amber glow to various camera tricks, in such a way that’s immersive, evocative, and chilly.

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