Katie Aselton’s Black Rock is yet another fine example of the burgeoning mumblegore film to be found in US indie cinema. Hip directors exploring various aspects of horror cinema has produced a quite surprising, but cleverly economically viable, subgenre. In the ‘mumblegore’ movie, we get the cast walking around discussing their relationship woes plus the inclusion of an axe murderer or psycho thrown into the mix. With a script by Mark Duplass (based on a story by Aselton) and starring Kate Bosworth, Black Rock is a survival horror tale given a female slant.
Three gal pals take a trip to a former childhood playground – a secluded island – where they hope to reconnect and re-establish a broken friendship. Lou (Lake Bell) slept with Abbi’s ‘douchebag’ fiancé and they haven’t spoken in six years. Sarah (Bosworth) treats the weekend like a Goonies-type lark until three blokes out hunting show up and a dewey-eyed return to halycon days is kiboshed. Black Rock wrings every ounce of discomfort from an increasingly bleak setup. As in life, events turn ugly within a drunken breath.
Sarah wants an adventure and to relive her youth. She’s upbeat and positive, if slightly manipulative, telling her warring friends that she’s got terminal cancer before smirking and laughing it off. Sarah wants to be their anchor to the past whereas Abbi (Aselton) and Lou snipe and bitch about each other until they’re literally forced to put aside their differences for a greater good that could bring them closer together. How they reconnect – through a trial of blood and terror – makes for pure tension, even if at one point they strip naked and roam Black Rock’s undergrowth and woods like primitive warrior women, suggesting they’ve regressed way further back than childhood. Needless to say, with a female director at the helm, the sequence is entirely tasteful and within context. It is not a ‘let’s strip off to give the boys a thrill’ type scene at all.
The cinematography by Hillary Spera captures both sedate naturalism and an eerie isolation. The score, by Ben Lovett, lends Black Rock another softly stylish edge, which contrasts with the barbarity that unfolds over a brisk eighty-three minutes.
Martyn has awarded Black Rock four Torches of Truth
