Horror, as a genre, is built on eliciting visceral reactions from an audience. Far more often than not that means evoking fright, shock, or disgust, but my favorite genre films are those that are much more about building an atmosphere of unease, dread, or terror than they are about giving viewers an acute scare. More rare, but just as pleasing, are those features whose style of horror revolves around a terrible sense of tragedy. This is the masterstroke of 'Immure,' and I absolutely love it.
Even with that latter point of emphasis, there's definitely an element of fear here. In fact, 'Immure' nails the trifecta: We get acute moments of terror, a lingering air of apprehension, and an overarching feeling of heartfelt woe. I'm generally not keen on jump scares, but this one got me, and in its timing, its deployment avoids a common, tired cliché among horror short films. There's an intense ambience of creepiness and dismay about this film - perhaps not as strong as in, say the movies of John Carpenter, but writer-director Conscian Morgan has done wonderfully all the same.
Above all, though, the real punch of 'Immure' is in the dire, sorrowful emotional beats, especially those that define the last minutes. While I'm sure there are other examples out there - and I'd love to see them - only one other (short) film comes to mind that has just as deftly tolled this particular bell in the horror genre (check the 2017 short 'The dollmaker'). It's a knell that's as devastating as the most extreme violence - but far more lasting and impactful. And Morgan uses it in a way here that is especially easy for viewers to relate to and sympathize with.
Set decoration is elegant in its simplicity, and lighting is brilliant in the most unobtrusive of ways. Makeup and effects are swell as they visualize the necessary aspects, including blood. However limited the written characterizations may be in a film of this nature, I deeply appreciate the heart poured into the roles of Eugene and Mary by Michael Hanratty and Natalie Oliver, respectively. Morgan gave his actors just enough room to explore their characters, and they quite capably realize them with earnest, believable nuance and emotion. It doesn't seem like either Oliver or Hanratty have a great many credits to their name, but I look forward to watching more from them, and hope they continue to feature in pictures of any nature.
And apart from the sentiments conveyed through this small tale, it's worth noting the narrative itself. Though restricted to these 20 minutes, it's engaging, and low-key riveting. I approached the film with no foreknowledge, and the first impression I had in the earliest few minutes was handily upended by the actual direction the screenplay takes. That in itself is a joy, when a story zags instead of zigging. Cheers!
Anyone who doesn't enjoy horror films broadly won't like this, and viewers who are intent on only the most extreme of horror probably won't care for it, either. 'Immure' takes a very different, uncommon approach to the genre - but in so doing, it imparts a more personal sense of foreboding that extends well beyond the runtime. For anyone who appreciates horror, and is willing to try something slightly out of the ordinary, 'Immure' is an outstanding short, well worth seeking out.
Even with that latter point of emphasis, there's definitely an element of fear here. In fact, 'Immure' nails the trifecta: We get acute moments of terror, a lingering air of apprehension, and an overarching feeling of heartfelt woe. I'm generally not keen on jump scares, but this one got me, and in its timing, its deployment avoids a common, tired cliché among horror short films. There's an intense ambience of creepiness and dismay about this film - perhaps not as strong as in, say the movies of John Carpenter, but writer-director Conscian Morgan has done wonderfully all the same.
Above all, though, the real punch of 'Immure' is in the dire, sorrowful emotional beats, especially those that define the last minutes. While I'm sure there are other examples out there - and I'd love to see them - only one other (short) film comes to mind that has just as deftly tolled this particular bell in the horror genre (check the 2017 short 'The dollmaker'). It's a knell that's as devastating as the most extreme violence - but far more lasting and impactful. And Morgan uses it in a way here that is especially easy for viewers to relate to and sympathize with.
Set decoration is elegant in its simplicity, and lighting is brilliant in the most unobtrusive of ways. Makeup and effects are swell as they visualize the necessary aspects, including blood. However limited the written characterizations may be in a film of this nature, I deeply appreciate the heart poured into the roles of Eugene and Mary by Michael Hanratty and Natalie Oliver, respectively. Morgan gave his actors just enough room to explore their characters, and they quite capably realize them with earnest, believable nuance and emotion. It doesn't seem like either Oliver or Hanratty have a great many credits to their name, but I look forward to watching more from them, and hope they continue to feature in pictures of any nature.
And apart from the sentiments conveyed through this small tale, it's worth noting the narrative itself. Though restricted to these 20 minutes, it's engaging, and low-key riveting. I approached the film with no foreknowledge, and the first impression I had in the earliest few minutes was handily upended by the actual direction the screenplay takes. That in itself is a joy, when a story zags instead of zigging. Cheers!
Anyone who doesn't enjoy horror films broadly won't like this, and viewers who are intent on only the most extreme of horror probably won't care for it, either. 'Immure' takes a very different, uncommon approach to the genre - but in so doing, it imparts a more personal sense of foreboding that extends well beyond the runtime. For anyone who appreciates horror, and is willing to try something slightly out of the ordinary, 'Immure' is an outstanding short, well worth seeking out.
