Rustic Revenge: an Exploration of Folk Horror

[Reader disclaimer: spoilers will be discussed].

"Now it's dark, and you seem to have lost him, but you're hopelessly lost yourself; stranded with a murderer. You creep silently through the underbrush, [...] in the distance, a small cottage with a light on. Hope! You move stealthily toward it but your leg, [...] it's caught in a bear trap."

Ironically, Rob Cantor's Shia LaBeouf Live illustrates the core essence of what folk horror is: isolation, wilderness, panic and murder. Kieran Fisher defines 'folk horror' as a wide variety of things, from "folk tales and legends to stories about ghosts, the occult, and deranged communities", that is to say that in folk horror, the scares derive from the nature that surrounds the characters as well as the occupants dwelling within it. However, this is not the same as eco-horror.

Andrew Hurley wrote an article for The Guardian, claiming that a recurring motif of folk horror is that characters are "seduced by the idea that the natural world is where [they'll] find some kind of restoration, enlightenment and, ultimately, peace". I think what's interesting there is that Hurley suggests that, as an audience, we are drawn in by the same temptations but this is where I have to disagree: these films, often b-movies, have a demographic of city-dwellers. A lot of critics claim that this demographic fear nature and the ambiguity of it (after all, it's often depicted as wide, open space, a land of lawlessness, a beautiful yet isolated setting). 

But I believe that what people really fear is the people who inhabit these settings: the villagers, the rustic types, the farmers and fishermen and the less-educated. Because if we look at examples of folk horror, nature is used as a front to lull its victims into a false sense of security: the real horror originates from the characters that already live there. 

The Cottage (2008)

This argument, I think, depends on context. For example, I am from a county called Suffolk (that's in England, for you non-UK folks), renowned for their agriculture and rich history; Ipswich's football team literally has the nickname 'Tractor Boys'. My childhood was largely spent in a village called Somersham which, I kid you not, is just one, long road surrounded by fields, fields and more fields. Therefore the isolation aspect of folk horror evokes no response from me: I was basically raised in a place where mobile signals were scarce, where birds woke you up at 7am and seeing people hack at wheat with a giant scythe was a normality. 

However, non-European countries may view this differently. Films such as The Wicker Man (1973), The Cottage (2008) or Gnaw (2008), all examples of British folk horror, depict those who live in a rural society as 'The Other': they're often shown to be mentally retarded, physically deformed (suggestively through inbreeding) and known to harbour hatred for city-goers and urban dwellers. People in rural areas in horrors films are demonised because their way of life is different from our own.

Midsommar (2019)

Let's take Midsommar (2019) for example (warning: spoilers ahead). The setting is this idyllic, pastoral community in Sweden wherein their traditions are observed and chastised by the American characters, e.g. love charms, ritualistic suicide and chanting. The Hårga are depicted as peaceful yet sinister as they murder each American one-by-one but, if we take into consideration why they die, then you realise that the horror doesn't derive from these rural people being an example of the 'Other', rather they are protecting their community from outsiders that choose to disobey their rules, mock their traditions and endanger them. In essence, they are not the villains: the main characters are.

Simon and Connie insult the Hårga's tradition. Josh violates their trust. Mark literally urinates on a sacred tree and then refuses to understand why the people are angry. Christian is just an absolute d-bag overall and you'll know that if you've seen the film. 

Did they deserve to die for it? Probably not: their outbursts are more suggestive of their ignorance rather than malicious intent. However the horror of Midsommar is in what the characters fail to respect and acknowledge, not in the inherent nature of the rural community. Dani is embraced by nature and by the Hårga because she understands grief, pain and healing through being open-minded and embracing the community's way of life (e.g. baking with the women, dancing for the May Queen title and taking hallucinogenics). 

Kill List (2011)

From what we're shown in folk horror, people who live closer to nature tend to be more spiritually connected to the earth (or at least act as servants to it). Paganism is a largely used motif in folk horror, a religion that worships the elements; it's important to note that there are many different sectors of paganism and that the one we often see in horror relates to eco-centric practise and religious naturalism. 

Folk horror tends to demonise paganism and/or natural worship as something that isolates those involved and keeps them in a cult-like setting, something the urban characters oppose to due to a fear of losing connection to their world. It's a recurrent theme: the mobile doesn't work, there's no public transport, that farmer who's offering to help seems dodgy...anything that can keep them from "escape". The irony in that is that city-life is considerably more claustrophobic and chaotic, whereas rural settings are typically large, spacious areas, so perhaps they don't fear escape as much as they fear the lack of structure and law. 

However, there is nothing sinister to paganism, in the same way that satanism (a popular religion to depict in horror) is perfectly innocent as well. Paganism is pre-Christianity and satanism is attached to it entirely, as the core belief is following Satan, a Christian character: think about it, in every exorcism film, what triumphs evil? Followers of Christ. Priests. Men of God. There is a clear prejudice against non-Christian religions and that's evident throughout horror history (though that's a tangent for another time). 

The Locals (2003)

The point I'm trying to make here, as messily as I may have put it, is that the true horror of this folk sub-genre is not nature: it's humanity. Eco-horror is a separate sub-genre that deals with humanity versus our earth but folk horror deals primarily with the divide in humanity, the rural versus the urban. In folk horror, nature is idyllic and nurturing only to those who are worthy of it, and accept that although humans reign, Mother Nature is still in charge. 

- K 

Film Reviews: I'm A Good Farmer! [The Locals, 2003]

The Locals (2003)

[Reader disclaimer: spoilers will be discussed].

When I was a young, impressionable teen, my neighbour came over to watch horror films with me: I had a huge crush on her at the time and I was eager to see what her taste in gore was like. She brought over a few of her favourites, one being Lake Placid (1999) and one that I'd never heard of before: The Locals (2003).

I recently had to track this New Zealand b-movie down because I couldn't for the life of me remember its name, anybody who had starred in it or what year it came out. And there's probably good reason for that: the director (Greg Page) never went on to direct anything else and none of the actors proceeded to do anything notable, other than Dwayne Cameron who has starred in films with A-list celebrities like Nicolas Cage and Guy Pearce. 

So The Locals focuses on Paul (Cameron) and Grant (Johnny Barker), two "bros" with a banter-filled friendship that conveys an uncharacteristically but welcomed tenderness to their characters. We often see lead men in horror films who are ham-headed and make nonsensical decisions, so it's actually refreshing to see these two interact in a playful yet caring way.

Paul decides to take a shortcut across the countryside for their trip and discovers two girls at the bridge who want the boys to come and party with them. These siren-esque, 80s party girls are the catalysts for what is to unfold but one has to question why they lure the boys into the village in the first place, knowing what we find out as the narrative unravels...but we'll get to that in a minute.

The boys discover that the inhabitants of the countryside are farmers and families in some kind of rural purgatory, forced under the tyrannical reign of Bill (Peter McCauley), a waxy, undead, discount Charles Dance. The man screams intimidation but I found early on (and conclusively towards the end) that he was a very one-dimensional character that could've benefited from being fleshed out a little more. 

There's even a throwaway comment that Martin (Paul Glover) makes halfway through the film about Bill murdering his wife every night, which sounds disturbing as hell: why on earth would he do that, if not for a sadistic streak/psychological trauma? I would've liked to have seen more of it, rather than a lanky old guy standing on his truck of minions and slowly making his way through the film, trying to round up the boys.

I will say that: the pacing of The Locals is all over the place. In some parts, it feels incredibly drawn out, stifling any sense of suspense or urgency. Then it'll do a 180 and crash-course its way through things that I think they could've spent more time exploring: for example, Martin's character goes from cryptid and presenting himself as a helper archetype to deranged lunatic who spends an abnormal amount of time back chatting with a decapitated skull. I could've bought his character being unhinged if it weren't for the fact that, one or two scenes prior, he was totally lucid. 

But what made me want to watch this film again is its ability to make the audience empathise with the characters. After discovering that the countryside people cannot die (in essence, they are ghosts) and will simply rise again (shown in parts through stop motion, which I actually enjoyed, as it was reminiscent of 80s horror e.g. Frank's reanimation in Hellraiser (1987)), it is revealed in the last act that during a tumble Paul takes earlier on in the narrative, he actually died as a result.

This moment is actually quite heartbreaking because, in comparison to other horror films with poignant deaths, there's a real sense of tragedy watching Paul and Grant interact after they discover the former's corpse: Grant doesn't want to lose his best friend but Paul tearfully pleads him to remove his body from the countryside so that he can rest in peace, essentially asking Grant in a subtle way to mercy kill him (again).

The one thing I can say from rewatching The Locals is that, despite it being a very low-budget horror and featuring some questionable writing in places, it feels genuine. I can tell a lot of effort and love went into creating this film and I honestly feel that pays off in the end. I'd recommend giving it a go: it might be a little niche and unheard of but it's definitely a decent watch.

Overall rating: 7/10

- K