Rating: 1 out of 5.

Body horror often serves as an allegory for transness. From Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde to 2021’s Titane, the genre signals that a monster writhing inside or lurching from the darkness embodies the unease one feels in one’s skin. As they navigate the intersection of identity and sexuality, forces beyond their control seek to rip their lives apart. In Michael Turney’s Video Vision, the writer/director attempts to comment on transness as it relates to obsolete technology after a mysterious VCR shows up that harbors the vengeful spirit of Dr. Analog (Hunter Kohl). But Turney bungles the trans subplot through hideous scriptwriting and spotlighting a transphobe that receives neither a comeuppance nor a redemption arc.

Kibby (Andrea Figliomeni) works alongside Rodney (Shelley Valfer) digitizing old VHS tapes, cassettes, and even the rare 8-track. Their work is thankless but a shared love for modernizing technology keeps them inspired. When a clunky VCR arrives, Kibby becomes interconnected with the device and haunted by a presence known only as Dr. Analog. In her research, she traces the tape machine back to 1983, a pivotal time when great things were happening on the tech front. The film laces these elements together into a promising techno-board – commenting on the passage of time, the looming dread of new technology, and how we, as human beings, are forever immortalized in plastic casings and ribbons.

The film shows glimmers of hope in its story here, crafted around the importance of tech in our lives and the slippery, ever-shifting landscape. Set in 2023, many conversations occur between Kibby and Rodney around technology as a means for real human connection. The horror presents itself not only in the notion that tech is ruining our lives but also in Kohl’s unsettling performance. Brilliant moments of terror poke through the static, particularly as Kibby tumbles further into a swirling eddy of despair. Everything leads into a retro-hellscape in the finale when Kibby enters a alternate space outfitted with crackling VHS-tracking and a distorted perception of reality.

But it’s a slog to even get to that point. The first 45 minutes are spent with Kibby as she grapples with a new love interest’s gender identity. The audience must endure transphobic jokes, faithless questioning, and a character so grotesque you wonder what exactly went wrong in the scriptwriting process. There’s a lack of depth, understanding, and care taken with the trans subplot. As Kibby digs deeper into her work, she strikes up a quick infatuation with transman Gator (Chrystal Peterson) after he comes into the shop wanting to digitize his father’s old concert tapes. Kibby misgenders Gator but quickly corrects herself when Gator reveals his pronouns.

That’s not the trouble with the film. In every subsequent conversation between Gator and Kibby, Kibby brings up Gator’s transness any chance she gets – to the point where it’s just awkward and icky. It’s one thing to ask honest questions about gender and sexuality, but Kibby’s inquiries are all done in bad faith. Early on, she makes snide remarks about Gator, who was written to be so accommodating that he shrugs off the jokes. THEN, he actually goes upstairs with Kibby for a one-night stand. It’s insulting to the trans audience; it should be clear that I don’t speak for the entire LGBTQ+ community. But I found myself writhing uncomfortably in my seat during the first half of the film. I just couldn’t accept such a harmful viewpoint on transness that does little to give actual queer people agency.

It’s as though Turney uses the film as a way to work out his own hangups about the trans community without any self-awareness or understanding of the nuances at play. It’s resoundingly clear neither a trans person contributed to the script nor was consulted on the proper way to handle the trans character. We deserve better than to be used as a punching bag that fails to actually engage with what being trans means.

Video Vision contains a fascinating sliver of an idea – tying Kibby’s encounter with Dr. Analog as a metaphor for undergoing gender-affirming care. But the film also fails in not hiring a trans actor to play Gator and giving him that major storyline. Instead, Gator becomes a caricature of a trans person – a pick-me for cis folks to feel better about themselves.

Video Vision is neither insightful nor resonant. It’s just plain dangerous.

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