We Are What We Are (2013)
Jim Mickle
"I don't know what you think you heard, but you must be mistaken."
*GENERALIZED SPOILERS AHEAD*
One of my favorite episodes of The X-Files is "Home," the one about the family of crazy backwoods inbred cannibals. You know, it's the one where they drag momma out from under the bed and she's had all of her limbs hacked off and eaten. It meant a lot to my 13-year-old brain, because some of the imagery was just so visually striking, especially for a network television show. It's shocking to see gangrenous limb stumps just a few minutes after Briscoe County Jr. ends.
Of course that episode borrowed heavily from The Family of Texas Chainsaw Massacre fame, the ur- disgusting backwoods inbred cannibal weirdos. The idea that there is a seedy and ghoulish society beyond the suburban and exurban highway off-ramps, strip malls, and combination Subway/gas stations has been a mainstay of horror since, well, cavemen told spooky stories about the monstrous weirdos who lived in the hills. Geniuses like Tobe Hooper and Wes Craven (The Hills Have Eyes) tapped into that ancient well of fear, and made rural America into the fearsome place that it truly is in the most gruesome ways possible.
But for those of us slobs living in the urban centers of society, middle-of-nowhere Texas might as well be the center of Mars in terms of how likely we'd ever find ourselves there. Thankfully there's a whole subgenre of film that explores the idea of evil living right under our noses, of course. From the unpleasant reality of a film like Room, to the goofiness of Fright Night, or in the unsettling mystery of Rosemary's Baby, the monsters become harder to identify, but no less sinister.
Then there are the films that tuck these themes into an even smaller space, exploring the evil that dwells within a single family unit. Films like The VVitch, Raw, and (the vastly underappreciated) Clovehitch remove the barriers of geographic distance and even locked doors between the innocent and the evil. The vulnerability is the source of the fear.
What I liked so much about We Are What We Are is the blending of all of this into one neat little package. The mystery that unfolds over the course of the film plays with your expectations of each of these tropes. Within the first act, you're provided with a dearth of hard information--just whispers and hints really--that you're unsure if this is a Room situation or a Silence of the Lambs/Buffalo Bill scenario. What comes to pass is far more banal yet no less vile. It's a wonderful subversion.
I appreciate how the characters in this film are not just cartoonish analogs for whatever group of people the writer and director are looking to lampoon. There is obviously room for that in art, but this feels grounded in a way that lends it more weight. The father in the film is a firm believer in the old traditions of his family and faith, but when his wife dies after a freak accident at the beginning of the film, he goes through profound and affecting grief. He drinks, he smokes, he weeps, he treats his children poorly, and he withdraws. You could make him bizarrely stoic, or use his suppressed grief to hint at the darkness, but giving him humanity in his grief is critical to this particular story.
So too with the setting of the film. The family lives in a small town, sure, but they have neighbors. They live on a normal looking street. Their house is not secluded away in the trees, or tucked in the mountains. This is out in the open, and the family has routine interactions with the people around them. They're no different from the family up the block that just happens to homeschool their children and maybe places a bit more importance on that old timey style of religion. The father even accepts the kindness of his neighbor and reaches out to her in a time of need, asking her to watch his son while they bury the mom. Freakish hill folk these are not.
The other facet of the unfolding mystery of the film that I loved were the two daughters. Emily asked me a great question after the movie: is there a horror movie that focuses on the male coming of age story? We could only come up with comedies (Teen Wolf may be the closest thing to a horror movie we could think of). But it makes sense. The male coming of age story is not compelling told through the lens of horror. Obviously puberty is traumatic and unpleasant for everyone, but as a boy you come out of the other side bigger, stronger, hairier, and with everyone telling you that you can take on the world. With girls, you come out the other side (literally) bloodied, traumatized, and with the instilled knowledge that for millennia before and for millennia to come, society will always consider you second.
All of this simmers just beneath the surface of We Are What We Are. Cloistered homes with strict religious views and unspoken secrets are simply not kind to young girls. After the mother dies, the father makes vague statements about how the eldest daughter will now have "new responsibilities," responsibilities that she does not seem particularly excited about undertaking. I won't spoil what that entails because that's the fun of the film, but I know your mind is suddenly filled with a phone book of horrible things that "new responsibilities" could mean.
We Are What We Are isn't the most polished or stylized horror movie ever, but it plays effectively with the themes similar genre films that came before it created. The pacing is great, and allows for the sinister mystery to dance around in your head, contorting into all sorts of horrible shapes before the reveal comes.
REVIEW: A hearty helping of long pig
HOW I WATCHED IT: Free on Amazon Prime
BEVERAGE: Surly's Furious IPA
1 comment:
I loved this movie so much, and it has been haunting my thoughts daily since I watched it. Given the time I would watch it a handful of times to really absorb every moment. Consume all those themes, if you will.
One theme I keep revisiting in my mind is how the story shows the true weakness of the male, and how well that weakness is disguised or ignored in a patriarchal society. The father needs all these women in his life to get through a day. He cannot cope or function well after the loss of his wife, immediately turns to his daughters to take over the mother’s responsibilities and maintain the household, and turns to a female neighbor to babysit the young son instead of allowing him to attend his mother’s funeral. And whether it’s strictly sticking to tradition or he simply does not have the stomach for it, it is the women in his life that are forced to do his dirtiest work so he can ultimately feel full and nourished. Without women this man would starve, literally and figuratively, in every sense of the word.
Patriarchal societies have duped all of us into the notion that a forceful male enforcing rules and roles upon the women and children in his household is a sign of strength, when in fact I think it’s the opposite. He does so because he is afraid of how weak and helpless he truly is, but must find ways to appear strong. He can do so little on his own he must bark out orders to feel like HE is the one maintaining structure and discipline. The fact is all this work would get done with or without his presence. Women naturally possess the instincts, strength and drive to get it done, regardless of their fears and wavering loyalty to tradition.
Intentional or not, I love that this film took me there. Down with the patriarchy? Hell yeah. And in this particular story, in a way you have to see to believe.
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