‘Perpetrator Review: Alicia Silverstone Cuts Deep In Wacky But Scattered Feminist Horror

Admin

21 Feb, 2023

‘Perpetrator Review: Alicia Silverstone Cuts Deep In Wacky But Scattered Feminist Horror

Even in the golden age of auteur horror, overtly feminist horror is still waiting to have its moment. It is not for lack of experience. rape-revenge thrillers were all the rage before pop feminism about vengeful young women became a mainstream subgenre.

Feminist horror provocateur Jennifer Ryder (Knives and Leather) has a more sinister and far more unusual feel, but her latest demented creation is an ambitious but uneven mix of ideas. Part surreal coming-of-age horror, part hunter-gatherer thriller, The Outlaw introduces a new protagonist and a script that tries to do too much. her

"Criminal" follows teenage runaway Johnny (Kia McKiernan), a lone wolf who uses stolen money to help his estranged single father pay the rent. John's father is almost the first sign that something is wrong in this dystopia; when he looks in the mirror, he sees that his face has become a different person. In a confidential phone call to a confidant, she asks him to take a breather to "collect himself," and Johnny is soon sent to live with his strict Aunt Hildy (Alicia Silverstone).

More like an evil stepmother than a great aunt, Silverstone is admired as a sharp-tongued and mysterious woman. Hildy is the secretive family caretaker of her barren mansion with ruthless elegance, which may explain John's occasional nosebleeds and blurry vision. Silverstone delivers her lines in a hyper-stylized staccato with exaggerated comedic emphasis to evoke a mixture of an otherworldly spirit or a WASP-style childless aunt. It's great to see her return to acting in something other than pointless commercials, not to mention a bold move for an independent feminist horror film.

"Criminal". Photo: ©AMC/Courtesy Everett Collection. © IndieWire Credit to Artist — Photo: ©AMC/Courtesy Everett Collection ©AMC/Courtesy Everett Collection

But there's more to this timeless ghost town that haunts a series of missing teenage girls than meets the eye. As a freshman at his tony school, Johnny is an outcast and socially curious who attracts the attention of popular girls and the lovely recluse Elektra (Iron Roach). Surrounded by dangers lurking around every corner, an overworked Major Burke (Christopher Burke) conducts a terrifying active shooter exercise. Reeder satirizes the pearly defense of young women, adding a touch of absurd humor to the film, such as when the girls contemplate the earthly punishment for murder.

When Hildy feeds Johnny a blood-soaked cake on his 18th birthday, he begins to experience and relive the emotions that give him terrifying visions. The nosebleed doesn't bother him, he has less blood than Hildy, only his manicured finger digs deeper into every red dot he sees. Hildy finally discovers their hidden family power, a form of hyper-empathy that causes deep pain but also gives some strength. When Johnny realizes he's seen the missing girls, now some of his most popular classmates, he takes it upon himself to find the kidnapper and bring him to justice.

Avoiding Elektra's love interest, while cute, feels a bit far-fetched, especially given the lack of character development. The exotic school scenes are fertile ground for Johnny's troubled self-discovery, but the austerity of Hildy's home feels otherworldly. Here is also the revelation of the mystery of Johnny's mother, the threat of his missing father and kidnapper. Despite being passionate and easy to watch, McKiernan struggles to connect emotionally with the character, forgoing depth in favor of a cool look. Only Silverstone, radiating the wisdom of the eye, can elevate and realize the high intentions of the script for the reader.

While there are satisfying elements to the genre, Outlaw certainly can't be accused of being pretentious. Blood takes a certain mystical element in the film, there is hardly a scene without it. Although there are some leaps before the bloody finale, the imagery in the final scene is creative and frightening. The use of light elements of body horror to reflect the adolescent's changing body theoretically works as a metaphor, but it doesn't fit the opaque character. The reader's ability to bring to life tender worlds that reflect and mock modern fears is equally daring, but demands greater attention.