"It Follows" Review

It's rare in recent years to find in mainstream horror a movie that doesn't succumb to what I like to call "jumpscare culture": the idea that fear starts and ends with loud noises and spooky little girls popping into frame. Paranormal Activity, Insidious, The Last Exorcism, and Ouija are only a handful of properties who've abused the formula to diminishing returns, a trend revealing how sick audiences are of the same tricks. To put it bluntly, we're in the midst of a lazy spell in horror, and need something to wake us up. Enter David Robert Mitchell's It Follows.

It's ironic that such an inventive, fresh horror film looks to the past as its foundation. It Follows oozes retro cool, evoking the late 70's/early 80's with its set pieces (typewriters, CRT televisions), fashion (in particular, a dress I imagine could be donned by Carrie), and equally tantalizing and menacing synthesizer soundtrack. Many reviewers have made the comparison to John Carpenter and I join the hive mind, citing Halloween as the prime example. While both films are set around the same time, they don't draw attention to it, evoking a timeless feel, like a campfire story.

Jay, at 19 years of age (Maika Monroe), is drawn to idealistic views of romance, sex, and adulthood. When she meets sexy, smoldering, mysterious Hugh (Jake Weary), she thinks these dreams are coming true; but after their first time, she wakes up tied to a wheelchair under a bridge, where Hugh imparts a disturbing revelation: he's been plagued by a murderous entity, transmitted sexually by his ex-lover, now imparted to Jay. The monster can take the form of any person (only able to be seen by any current or previous victim) and will not cease its pursuit until it kills; at that point, it goes to the last person, following the chain to the beginning. Hugh advises Jay to keep passing it on, but Jay hopes to find another way, with the help of her sister and friends. Regardless, the hunt is on, and no one is safe.

The Carpenter comparisons don't stop at production design; Mitchell relies on suspense, masterfully building tension and paranoia. Wide landscapes and frequent panning draws the eye to all corners of the screen, vetting every person to determine who could be the monster: a tendency Mitchell devilishly teases the audience with. With cinematographer Mike Gioulakis, Mitchell showcases Detroit in transition, juxtaposing a romantic suburbia full of playful kids and 50's-tinged movie theaters with urban decay, characterized by condemned buildings and industrial smoke. The city parallels Jay, both feeling the pressures exerted by the dangers they face, both losing their innocence, so to speak. It all makes for a grim, isolating environment that slowly constricts its grip on our nerves, beating us down just as it does Jay.

It's not new for horror movies to explore sexuality; look to the big three slasher franchises: Halloween, Friday the 13th, and A Nightmare on Elm Street. By now we know the cliches: promiscuous teenagers are destined to be interrupted by a knife to the throat, while the virgin heroine is often the only one left standing at the film's end. Where Mitchell's inventiveness comes from is his ability to transcend this extreme interpretation of the virgin-whore complex and explore gender discrepancies in using sexuality as a social identifier. 

From the beginning, Jay is identified sexually, whether it be from ogling pre-teens as she lays in a pool or through initial conversations with her sister, where the topic revolves around her sexual status with Hugh. After her first time, she's followed by the entity ceaselessly; the ramifications of losing her virginity are inescapable, seeping their way into Jay's perception of herself, her family, and men in general. When sexuality is at the forefront of a person's social identity, the objectification can cause psychological damage, especially if the person has been violated or raped. Jay's emotional and mental deterioration is put on display as the subject of every conversation is about her sexual past or how she can use sex to push the entity away. By doing so, Mitchell critiques the morality of the virgin-whore complex, revealing the negative repercussions such a social construct can impart on individuals, specifically women.  

Monroe (who starred in last year's The Guest, another 80's style thriller) plays the role with aplomb. She's vulnerable, naive, paranoid, tenacious, doing it all without strain. My compliments extend to the supporting cast (Lili Sepe, Daniel Sovatto, Olivia Luccardi, Kier Gilchrist), who avoid the stilted delivery and glazed looks young horror actors are often known for (an unfortunately timeless trope; this is just as bad in Friday the 13th as it is with Texas Chainsaw 3D). This is a strong ensemble cast, and the film sets aside time to let them play off each other, establish natural chemistry.

It Follows is not without its faults; the second half indulges in some of the worse cliches horror has to offer, which might leave audiences underwhelmed. However, Mitchell has dressed a modern exploration of sexuality and identity in simple, nail-biting terror, preying on our collective social fears. Meticulously crafted and expertly executed, this film is simply put, a must-see.