Brooklyn Horror 2025: ‘Violence’ puts the pedal to the metal

The past never really stays dead. Just ask Henry Violence. In his feature film debut, writer/director Connor Marsden takes the viewer into a punk-fueled, neon-soaked underworld of the 1980s. Playing this year’s Brooklyn Horror Film Festival, Violence doesn’t only feel gritty but like a beautiful hellscape, an alternate reality far removed from our own. Marsden, who co-wrote the script with Devin Myler and William Woods, crafts a hypnotically slimy wonderland that goes from zero to 100 in the blink of an eye. It’s 84 relentless minutes slathered in blood, with Rohan Campbell delivering one of his best performances to date.

Campbell is Violence. He embodies the role so perfectly, it’s difficult to untangle reality from fiction. As Violence becomes embroiled in a drug war, two cartels foil his mission to rescue Charlotte (Sarah Grey) through excruciating psychological and physical damage. He’s put through the wringer, both literally and metaphorically. From fire to knife stabbings, he walks through hell and back again. A drug called “Red” populates the city streets, and drug kingpin Jimmy Jazz (Joris Jarsky) tests Violence’s worth through a scheme of his own. But the mishandled theft of a lofty sum of “Red” leads to Violence being targeted as the prime suspect. Matters could not be more complicated.

Following Campbell’s criminally underappreciated performance as Corey Cunningham in Halloween Ends, he delivers an equally captivating turn that furthers his scope of talent. As the night unravels with intense and visceral violence, Violence contends with more than what his present has in store. The past roars its ugly head in increasingly vicious ways. Campbell never falters. He immerses himself in the troubled mind of Violence, offering the complexities needed for such a rough and tumble antihero. Through the lens of this grimy, yet deceptively colorful, world, the audience gets the sense that something dangerous always bubbles just below the surface. Violence is simply the conduit for a night of absolutely volatile reverie.

Connor Marsden submerges the viewer into an existence as real as our own. Cinematographer Vincent Biron brings the story to life with meticulous detail. His eye for world-building boosts Marden’s tale into the stratosphere. Violence succeeds because every piece fits snugly together, creating a lived-in experience that never cuts any corners. 84 minutes might be short for a story like this, yet the mean and lean approach keeps it all streamlined and running at a brisk pace. Frames are never wasted, and each character possesses real intentions from scene to scene.

Violence emerges as one to watch out of Brooklyn Horror. Blending crime and horror, it’s a full-throttle joy ride that stomps the gas until the very final frame. Henry Violence may not be a good person, but through Rohan Campbell’s empathetic performance, you root for him anyway.