|Things don't stay smoochy for too long...|
A anguished young woman sets herself on fire - certainly a way to get the audience's attention at the roll out of a film...and that's how David Moscow's Desolation begins.
Shortly after, we meet the character of chick-magnet thespian Jay Cutter - great name for a studish actor - played by Brock Kelly (which is also a great name for a studish actor...hmm). He arrives from Hollywood to film scenes in a smallish town in New York state where he catches sight of another young lady with issues named Katie, played with a quiet pill-popping nervousness by Dominik García-Lorido. In what initially comes across as an all-too-convenient blink of an eye, Jay seems to decide that Katie is the love-at-first-sight gal in his life and whisks her back to La-La land and the rather outré apartment building he lives in: one with a violent history, random numbers assigned to units, and a priest on the floor above them named Father Bill (Raymond J. Barry...or was that William S. Burroughs reincarnated with a collar around his neck? This is not meant as a putdown - Barry's performance was the highlight of the film for yours truly). An acting gig comes up and Jay shuffles out of town, leaving Katie in a building where the lights keep going out, lettering on walls and ceilings keep appearing and disappearing, hooded figures break into her apartment (who turn out to be less a problem than the police who come to investigate)...oh, and a little girl named Grace who keeps showing up out of the blue. Father Bill, not the most relaxing presence to be around during the boyfriend's absence, questions Katie about her obviously frail mental state.
So, is this all in Katie's head? Is there some supernatural shit going on? Or...
Here's my very subjective take...
The first half of Desolation was supposed to make me feel uncomfortable and it did - but not in a way the filmmakers intended. I found the matters that unfolded to be more tedious than tense. The events that led up to the second leg of the film seemed too contrived, the dialogue flat and too on-the-nose, the acting (Barry aside) nothing to write home about. I got the sense there was a build up to something else and perhaps what seemed nonsensical would not seem so clumsy later but I wanted to get this (necessary) part of the experience over with the same way I would want the effects of a bowl prep liquid taken the day before a colonoscopy to be over with. BUT WAIT! - screenwriters Craig Walendziak and Matthew McCarty sure had a twist up their sleeves alright; quite a twist, producing a sharp genre turn and providing (at least what were supposed to be) clever explanations for what seemed unlikely in the first part of this filmic voyage. It did help to boost my interest in what was going on, particularly in regards to caring for/rooting with the main character as she tried to survive her ordeal and not become her own worst enemy along the way.
Still, for me, it wasn't enough; the suspension of disbelief aspect just wasn't there. There were still too many details (can't elaborate, as then we're in spoiler territory) that had my eyes rolling. García-Lorido tried hard but didn't really deliver - for me - the consistent power the performance required. The ending really went into overdrive in a way that made my eyes roll some more. And while the production values are impressive, the far too conspicuous soundtrack, meant to help foster creepiness, became annoying in the way it continually called attention to itself.
I'm sure others would find this film more up their alley. I will say Moscow shows enough flashes to suggest he has real potential as a feature director. I look forward to seeing what he comes up with in the future.