Voodoo (2017)
Starring Samantha Stewart, Ruth Reynolds, Dominic Matteucci
Directed by Tom Costabile
The art of shocking an audience into submission is a valuable one – be it with some hedonistic sex, gratuitous violence, or the combination of both. Now ramp those aspects up past the “10” marker on your decency meter, and throw in a little Satanic alchemy for good measure, and we’ll just see which teflon souls are willing to stick around for the duration.
Now I’m all in for a little debauchery with my unholiness, bu DAMMIT, did the ghouls from hell really feel the need to capture all of their exploits in first-person POV? In director Tom Costabile’s ultra-bizarre film Voodoo, the audience gets taken on a fiery ride into hell (more like the inner-workings of a Halloween attraction), and we see just what becomes of an innocent lass once she’s touched the flames of Hades. Samantha Stewart stars as Dani, a country gal who’s taking a break from her byzantine existence in New Orleans, and lands in sunny Los Angeles to party it up with her bff, Stacey (Reynolds). Together the two (along with us, whether we want to experience it or not), carouse around the city, exalting in inebriated, horny revelry…and it’s all caught on that damned camera that NEVER manages to run out of juice. For the majority of the film’s first half, we’re apprised on everything that these two drink, want to sight-see, or guy they want to bang – it’s tedious, it’s time-consuming, and if it was laid out that way to make people care about either one of these characters, I’d have to say that it was a failure.
In the middle of the booze-fueled vacation video from hell (don’t worry, we’re getting there), it comes to pass that Dani’s boyfriend had a former relationship with a voodoo priestess while living in New Orleans. Seems now that the ex-girlfriend isn’t too happy about Dani’s presence and swears to get her – can’t lie, but I’d probably fill the back of my shorts if some hoo-doo shaman threatened my safety. As we pass by the middle-mark of the movie, we’re immediately tossed on our keesters in a display that can simply be described as “WTF?” Dani ventures into her friend’s living room one night and is immediately heaved into a scene right out of Dante’s Inferno: possessed souls feasting on newborn children (no kidding), blood, breasts, growling beasts…the kind of stuff that generally would make the laid-back horror set want to quick-change their DVD out of their players and opt for something safe and PG-13-like. Even ol’ Beelzebub gets in on the sexual assault…once again, all the while that damn camera is a’ rollin – and while we’re at it, exactly what unlucky demon from Hell got the short straw and was saddled with the responsibility of filming Satan doing the horizontal mambo? Aah, the possibilities are endless, much like the last 35 minutes or so of this film, whereas our leading lady must’ve had a very large supply of throat lozenges on hand, because she screams…a lot. No, believe me when I tell you, she screams A LOT – if you can make it until the end credits without plugging your ears at least once, good on you. We never truly know why Dani was subjected to such torture, nor do any of us care, and at the risk of sounding like a completely disgruntled fan, this movie simply had no redeeming quality to it, other than Stewart is as cute as a button, even when screaming incessantly or being tortured by the unholiest of unholies.
I won’t murder this film strictly based on its visuals – some odious, some reprehensible, but all in all they were created in order to shock and awe. Whether or not you can see past the paper-thin plot, suspect acting, gut-wrenching scenes or that damned camera that NEVER seems to get put down, then by all means, enjoy this film. If any of the above happen to vex you in any fashion, skip this Voodoo by all counts.
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Film
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