This is an advanced review of the Toronto International Film Festival, where V/H/S/99 made its world premiere. It will premiere at Shudder on October 20, 2022.
The regression of the development V / H / S. The franchise thrives throughout V/H/S/99 in that it gets more rocky by the entry. As the digital cleanliness of previous sets trade the snowy fluff of the ’90s, the filmmakers unite the visions with prolific hands-on effects that make for a heavy-duty version of this ground-breaking franchise. Expect your usual mixed bag of mix-ups, but nostalgia for the late ’90s goes a long way to connect the seasons as everything from American Pie bulges to Nickelodeon game shows are animated in streaming distortion. Monsters, chaos, and attraction-based engagement make V/H/S/99 one of the most enduring V/H/S titles to date, as long as you’re into a roller coaster game that prefers free midnight entertainment over self-serious horror.
‘Ripped’ Maggie Levine sends a Jackass Lite crew calling themselves RACK (each member’s first letter) to a burning and abandoned art group known as The Colony Underground. Cartoonish teenage rebel skaters dare to provoke the spirits of the deceased girl squad Bitch Cat — trampled by fans during a fire — and confront them with undaunted spirits. Stressful talk about inappropriate topics, but Bitch Cat’s appearance gains where she sings “Shredding.” Recreations of Bitch Cat’s death with sex dolls and squishy Jello turn into delirium from the grave as RACK escapes from zombie musicians who look like Night of the Demons, and the final image – it’s like Chuck E. Cheese but with more chops. Levin may overuse tricks while RACK continues to punish the drummer, who fears that their interference will do what’s right. Still, it’s loud enough in horror moves to make good on punk rock’s bloodlust promises thanks to energetic original songs and artist Dressage’s disturbing score (reunited after Levin’s Into The Dark: My Valentine).
Johannes Roberts (Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City) follows with a sorority tale of sorority “The Suicide Show,” a tormented grab bag of agonizing paranoia. Beta sigma eta hopes Lily (Ally Ioannides) vows to lower her into a coffin and is told by her would-be sisters that she must spend the night underground if she wants to enter. Roberts does a tremendous job of controlling a stifling tension as poor ‘Lily’ falls victim to a shocking prank that turns into a horrific confinement. The movie “Suicide Bid” uses confinement, arachnophobia, and hydrophobia to exceptional degrees but goes too far in the end. There’s a massive terror down the spine as Barbie madly cows as a new student shrinks under clumps of dirt and rain-soaked mud, all before the Undertaking’s curse that died underground in the same graveyard becomes another opportunity to inject the effects of practical monsters. Everything else in the clip works So Well, it’s hard to take the effects of the haunted maze seriously. Still a winner, just a little bit very Ambitious when really scary on all cylinders.
Next up is “Ozzy’s Dungeon” Flying Lotus, which is a crowd pleaser on the popular Legends of the Hidden Temple children’s obstacle course. Little Donna (Amelia Ann) hopes to be the next jackpot winner, which means one wish granted behind the scenes magical Ozzy. An uncomfortably gaudy host (Stephen Oge) swayes in a lavender-pink suit, who downplays Ozzy’s Dungeon when extreme violence occurs—just the setting for the chainsaw-like developments that arose from a vengeful former racer. If you’ve seen Kuso, you understand the mysteries that Flying Lotus prefers and why “Ozzy’s Dungeon” will be either a love-or-hate chapter in V/H/S/99. There is a sense of cable TV blemishes that it should be better sustainable, and the whole experience lasts a long time Too much for its gimmick. Satire is incendiary but stretched thin as puppets and melting faces become the norm. Sometimes it’s a little more, and that’s where I’ll leave Ozzy’s Dungeon.
Tyler McIntyre redeems “The Gawkers,” the aforementioned American pie takedown. Suburban stone throwers with alias like Bonner notice smoke (Emily Sweet) across the street and start looking through binoculars — then electronic spyware — hoping to catch a glimpse of some skin. MacIntyre recalls David Bruckner’s “Amateur Night” while capturing footage of the once-normal pop culture teen sex comedy creep, while high school clients lose control of their hormones while avoiding bloodshed. The journey is full of mysteries, but the MacIntyre monster snatches The Gawkers with lessons learned from massacres and a mythical creature not seen enough in horror cinema.
MacIntyre also oversees the humorous wrap – stop motion army men fighting stately kaijus and joking about the gloom of battle like portraying an elementary school student for war. It’s the kind of juvenile time waster that your little brother or cousin might have you watching, proud blood strawberry jam and toy actors. There are a lot of chuckles (including Tales from StichRaatma doll), like someone has made videos of cherished memories.
Joseph and Vanessa Winter carry the momentum from their festival favorite Deadstream to “To Hell and Back,” filled with more of the same supernatural black humor and demonic costumes that were never recycled. Two documentaries (Archilaus Chrysanto and Joseph Winter) anticipate Y2K by recording a demonic ship ritual for a cult – but end up being dragged into the underworld when a summoner’s target appears early and drags them down. Best friends regain their composure in a calcified mass of mountains ruled by unspeakable horrors, crossing unholy feeding areas while donning New Year’s Eve cardboard hats. Shades of Astron-6 is set in a low-budget special effects show that blends deftly Weird things Upside down with Digging Up the Marrow in Adam Green’s play, as long as you’re okay with terrifying adventurers roaming the Devil’s backyard. Winters spares production design expenses by building everything from rocky landscapes to cave-dwelling warriors, pushing the boundaries where V/H/S tales can transport viewers.