XX-2017
Director-Jovanka Vuckovic, Annie Clark, Roxanne Benjamin, Karyn Kusama
Starring-Natalie Brown, Melanie Lynskey
Scott’s Review #677
Reviewed September 1, 2017
Grade: B
XX is a 2017 American anthology film consisting of four unique horror vignettes all directed by female directors- a brazen feat in itself as this gender is too often under-represented in the genre.
The chapters do not always make complete sense, but what they do achieve is a creative, unpredictable edge and a feeling of having watched something of substance.
Surely, another anomaly is that each features a female lead, giving the film as a whole a measure of female empowerment.
Immediately we are treated to an odd tale named The Box, based on a short story written by an author notable for composing tales of the gruesome, Jack Ketchum.
In this story, a young boy named Danny, cheerfully riding a train with his mother and sister during the holidays, innocently asks an odd-looking man if he can peek inside a shiny, red, gift-wrapped box.
When the man agrees, Danny initially goes about his day but proceeds to stop eating, much to his parent’s horror. This installment is my favorite of the four as it is the only holiday-themed chapter, and contains a morbid quality amid the cheeriness of the season.
The perspective soon switches from Danny to his mother, Susan, and the conclusion is a surprising one.
Next up, The Birthday Party features middle-aged Mary, intent on holding a birthday party for her young daughter, Lucy. When Mary finds her husband dead, she dresses him up in a panda costume and attempts to conceal him from the group of anxious young party-goers.
The conclusion is a mix of the hilarious and the disturbing. This vignette features a nanny and a neighbor, both odd and mysterious characters. I admire the black comedy in this one most of all.
Third in the series is Don’t Fall, which transports the viewer to the middle of the desert, where four friends are on an expedition, seeking adventure. The main character, Gretchen, is deathly afraid of heights.
When the group discovers a cave with ancient, evil writings on it, one of the group becomes possessed and embarks on a killing spree against the others.
Very short in length, Don’t Fall suffers a bit from absurdity and the least character development of the four- it is also the one I found to be the weakest.
Finally, Her Only Living Son is the strangest in the quartet. Working-class single mom, Cora, has only one son, Andy. About to turn eighteen, he is rebellious and known to be cruel to classmates- even gleefully tearing off one poor girl’s fingernails.
Ironically, the high school faculty seems to worship Andy, deeming him remarkable and seeming somewhat entranced by him. As Cora becomes influenced by her mailman, Chet, it is revealed that Andy’s father is a Hollywood star, wanting nothing to do with Cora or Andy.
When Andy develops claws on his fingernails and toenails, Cora fears that he is not her ex-husband’s son at all, but rather the spawn of Satan. This tale is a miniature of the classic 1968 horror film, Rosemary’s Baby, both haunting and devious in tone.
Enticing is how each chapter runs the gamut in theme and each is unique and different enough from the others so that they are distinguishable and do not suffer from a blended or all too similar feel.
Certainly, each situation is implausible in “real life” and some head-scratching plot points abound. For instance, how is it possible for an emaciated child, under a doctor’s care, not to be force-fed?
Also, a teenager growing claws and hooves? Really? But, it is horror, and sometimes supernatural, or even silly, elements can be fun.
XX, new for 2017, is reminiscent of the successful horror anthology that the Showtime cable network was daring enough to air from 2005-2007- this series ran the gamut in stylized and edgy horror escapades, using various directors to achieve this result.
Here’s to hoping that XX opens some new doors and prompts a new horror series. XX has a few flaws but is successful in undoubtedly pleasing the legions of horror fans.