Review: ‘Irrational Fear’ might drown you in boredom
Acquired by Terror Films, the indie film attempts to marry various genres and explore conquering phobias.
Fear consumes us. It’s a monster we tuck away with the Christmas decorations in the attic. It’s the dark figure lurking in the basement. And it’s the unconscious mind harboring the deepest and most tormented parts of ourselves. Even if those fears appear irrational to others, we know the very real implications of such unbridled terror. Such is the crux of Hunter Johnson’s Irrational Fear, a low budget, woodsy piece that banks on seclusion, psychological havoc, and plenty of blood, guts, and gore.
Johnson (LA’s Most Wanted, Malvolia: The Queen of Screams) lines up a compelling concept. In a script co-written with executive producer Kevin Sommerfield (co-writer for Dismembering Christmas), the story follows six therapy patients to a lakeside retreat. As they struggle to confront and conquer their various fears, which range from bugs and germs to drowning and being touched, a sinister presence makes itself known. Slowly but surely, patients are picked off one by one in true macabre, grindhouse fashion.
Johnson has a clear affinity for grungy ’70s and ’80s-style horror, and Irrational Fear often feels very Friday the 13th with a grainy, simplistic charm all its own. He sets up his characters as pawns on a slaughterhouse chessboard; they’re simply drug to this location to die. Leah Wiseman displays great promise as Taylor, emitting a cool softness to her performance, and Mathias Blake as Cameron emerges as another real standout with an easy confidence about him. Cati Glidewell (Gags the Clown) as the drunken and crass Helen punctures the tension with zingers so sizzling you might fall out of your seat.
Unfortunately, the train stops there.
Irrational Fear builds out a tremendous idea, mixing genres of slasher, psychological thriller, and creature-feature, and the death sequences truly are expertly plotted, filmed, and edited. There are vignettes of delightfully twisted carnage so delicious, the faults might be forgivable if they weren’t so glaring. Charles Chudabala gives a tepid performance as Dr. Sanders, the man behind the mayhem, whose mental state is always teetering right on the edge, but there is never quite enough gravitas or imposing presence to justify the casting choice. Much of the rest of the cast are just fine, but with a narrative so much larger-than-life, the delivery is simply limp.
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