‘Baghead’ Review: Nothing New In This Piece Of Grief Horror
When a horror film is as indelicately titled as Alberto Corredor’s Baghead three possible outcomes could ensure its success. It could be a creepypasta passed on from Tumblr to Reddit catapulted into reality through its viral retelling, a comedy-horror existing in the Cocaine Bear universe, or a film so scary that the sins of its title are easily forgotten. Sadly for Baghead none of these are the case.
At first glance, Baghead inspires hope for the haunt-hungry viewer. Through Iris (Freya Allen), Corredor offers an original spin on the well-worn trope of the struggling individual who inherits property and hopes that this new deed will solve all their financial ills. Instead of a young couple that finds themselves contractually tied to a haunted property, Iris is single and exhausted by evictions, unstable work, and clawing her way through life. She’s much more relatable today than the happy couple that can afford a mortgage. When she discovers the Queen’s Head Pub—which she has inherited from her absentee father (Peter Mullan)—comes with a basement-dwelling supernatural tenant, she sees this as an opportunity to finally make some cash.
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Baghead (Anne Muller) is much more than just an ill-fitting name for an immortal being whose very existence threatens the survival of Iris and her friend of much sounder judgment Katie (Ruby Barker). The sack-cloaked woman also possesses the disturbing ability to shapeshift into dead people. This is an ability that many grieving people, including the recently widowed Neil (Jeremy Irvine), are willing to pay for and Iris means to exploit. What could have become a deep dive into the horror genre’s exploitation of grief, instead follows the same narrative we’ve seen played out with many supernatural horrors with no added flair. Baghead’s release so soon after the shocking and astute debut from Danny and Michael Philippou, Talk To Me, serves instead as a reminder of how ineffectively grief can be handled by the genre.
Despite an initially inventive concept, the delivery is lackluster. Our introduction to the creature includes some bone-cracking contortions as she changes into the summoned dead soul, as well as an enjoyable scurry across the ceiling, but there is nothing new to this. Any fear we felt is quickly left behind to focus on multiple threads of an underwhelming plot. If it wasn’t for the gothic pub setting, the lack of real fear would have viewers unsure they’re watching a horror.
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After watching the hessian-headed hag emerge limping from the shadows a few times the audience is as restless as this paranormal prisoner. Instead of refining an interesting notion, Corredor resorts to some of the oldest tricks in the book, including research images sourced from old texts that explain Baghead’s origins and many uninspired twists. Alongside the overused flashback montage revealing the villain’s deceitful plot, which is a lazy narrative tool that should have been buried alongside the dead. Pair this with the limp sentimental monologues from the mouths of the deceased and unsettled resentments from the living, it could easily be confused with a Mike Flanagan rip-off.
All in all, Baghead truly fumbled the bag.
Summary
Baghead is another unsuccessful attempt to capitalize on grief horror, leaning on over-used tropes to craft its jumbled message about healing.
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