What do Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, Paramount+, NOW TV and Apple TV have in common? They’re all frustrating to use and they all exist in an overcrowded marketplace. The last thing we need is even more, smaller, more niche services finding and filling the tiny gaps in that marketplace. Except that Shudder actually does that incredibly well – provided you like horror – and is the most functional streaming service I’ve ever used.
What does any of that have to do with V/H/S/99? At some point along the line, Shudder picked up the rights to V/H/S, a series of faux-retro found footage anthology films, and has turned them into their flagship franchise, putting out around one per year (plus spinoffs). This strikes me as a very good thing; the whole situation is reminiscent of the Nightmare on Elm Street films (and the TV series, and the rap song, and everything else), which made New Line Cinema enough money that they could afford to gamble millions on The Lord of the Rings. Who knows what kind of project Shudder might put out in 15 years, if the series continues apace?
At the time of writing, V/H/S/99 is Shudder’s most-watched film, a title previously held by its predecessor V/H/S/94. While the fan and critical consensus seems to be that all this sequelisation has begun to sap the originality of the films, the only real evidence of this is an increased tone shift towards humour – not intrinsically a bad thing, and in any case pretty much a given for any horror series that spawns enough sequels. Just look at Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare, Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives, Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn, Psycho II, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Return of the Living Dead, Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2, Alien: Resurrection, Sadako vs. Kayako, Bride of Chucky, Hellraiser: Hellworld, Halloween Resurrection, or even the most recent Saw film, which opened unashamedly with a Chris Rock comedy routine and still wasn’t as silly as Saw 3D: The Final Chapter.
In any case, the film’s comedy bent is only mild, and the overall tone is similar to V/H/S/94, down to the presence of skateboard punks in two of the featured segments. The first full segment, Maggie Levin’s “Shredding”, may underwhelm in terms of sheer terror, but it makes up for that deficiency with its riot grrrl vitality and sheer eagerness to please. And if you don’t like it, don’t worry because it’s very short and you never know, you might like the next one better.
All anthology films have their ups and downs – though it’s not true that all anthologies are only as good as their weakest segment – and the smarter ones, like Twilight Zone: The Movie, know to build energy throughout, saving the best until last. It’s like sequencing the tracks on a pop album, except in reverse. As such, the second segment, “Suicide Bid”, doesn’t emerge as much of a standout, but the story of a sorority pledge being buried alive in a particularly cruel initiation rite is competently handled by Johannes Roberts, who directed The Strangers: Prey at Night and Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City, and by the evidence here, has probably seen the Ryan Reynolds vehicle Buried.
Upping the 90s-isms are the next two segments, Flying Lotus’ “Ozzy’s Dungeon” and Tyler MacIntyre’s “The Gawkers”. The first centres around a children’s game show in the mould of Jungle Run, whose excruciatingly tacky host has the tables turned on him by the disgruntled mother of a contestant. It’s an oddity of the V/H/S films that their framing narratives dictate that all of the stories in the anthology take place in one crazy shared universe, full of ghosts and sirens and zombies and the actual Biblical Hell, but “Ozzy’s Dungeon” explodes the low-level weirdness inherent in that premise to produce by far the most nightmarishly surreal segment to appear in any of these films. It might have emerged as a highlight were it not for the way its second half drags, finding no real way of ratcheting up the tension between its midpoint and its bonkers finale. “The Gawkers” suffers no such problem; it gives us a simple tale of American Pie-style computer perverts getting an extremely unexpected comeuppance, and then just ends when the point has been made. If there’s a complaint to be made about “The Gawkers”, it’s that it is used a frame narrative, when really it’s just a single short film arbitrarily cut up and inserted between the other shorts.
In any case, the best – and the most impressive-looking – segment is Vanessa & Joseph Winter’s “To Hell and Back”, a black-comedy tale of the hapless husbands of a witchy coven ending up, through a hilarious misunderstanding, having to traverse the wonderfully surreal landscape of Hell, accompanied by the delightfully impish – and oddly charming – minor demon, Mabel the Skull Biter (Melanie Stone, whose good looks shine through the prosthetic teeth and fake psoriasis). On the evidence here, the series is in no risk of drying up any time soon.
And for those of you who choose to shell out for the Blu-Ray, you’ll enjoy deleted scenes from various segments (though they tend to be about 20 seconds each in length); a gag reel; a music video for the band Bitchcat; and bloopers, camera tests, and a featurette on the special effects of the “Gawkers” segment. Plus, there’s the inevitable commentary – recorded over Zoom, with all the usual frustrations it entails – and a panel at New York ComicCon. The best of the features is the makers of the “To Hell and Back” segment running around Utah’s Fantasy Canyon (that’s its real name) looking for suitably Hell-like rock formations. All of these features are fun yet ultimately disposable, so you may be better off just spending that money on a few months’ subscription.
★★★☆☆