Two new movies mine marriage for horror-thriller mayhem.
In Vitro
Directed by Tom McKeith and Will Howarth. Runtime 89 minutes. On VOD and digital platforms.
In Vitro is set on a remote farm in Australia. Jack and Layla breed cattle and bemoan the absence of their teenage son. Jack is the cow-cloner and has expanded his inventory—and species—with the help of a ranch hand named Brady and without his wife Layla’s knowledge.
Directors Tom McKeith and Will Howarth maintain a consistent tone of dread throughout; their bucolic milieu maintains its ordinariness and ups the suspense by slowly revealing ominous high-tech underpinnings. They are aided by DP Shelley Farthing-Dawe and production designer Alexi Wilson, who provide razor-sharp visions of a desolate landscape.
The actors will be familiar, and you might be surprised that they’re Australian. Talia Zucker (Layla) has been in Lake Mungo. Ashley Zuckerman (Jack) has been in the U.S. TV series Silo, Succession, and Apple Cider Vinegar. Will Howarth (Brady) has Beast and much Australian TV to his credit. Competent technicians and artists all.
So, In Vitro has good bones. With all this talent, it’s a surprise that there’s so little meat on them. Mr. McKeith and Howarth aspire to big ideas. Their directors’ statement says the film aims to express “something important about the times we live in,” and the hope that audiences “will reflect on their own ideas around love and control.” Shoehorning cultural speculation into compelling drama is a tough balance. In Vitro never achieves the poignancy of, say, Never Let Me Go, and lacks the intellectual punch of, say, Shane Carruth’s Primer.
While In Vitro is very watchable, its subject demands more. Humanity has, like the truth, become a fragile notion. A potentially provocative topic is diluted by a lot of running around. In Vitro’s purposes are thin, even as we enjoy watching pros at work.
Bury Me When I’m Dead
Directed by Seabold Krebs. Runtime: 99 minutes. On VOD and digital platforms.
Married couple Catherine and Henry run a flower shop. Catherine is diagnosed with cancer. All she asks of Henry is that he bury her at a spot in the woods where she was happy in her childhood. Henry promises to do so. Catherine dies.
Henry is pressured by Catherine’s devious father, Gary, to bury her back at home. Henry succumbs. Henry is also involved with their employee Rebecca, who tells him she’s pregnant. Rebecca tells Gary she wants to keep the baby and start a new life.
Promises are made, promises are broken. Henry’s luck turns bad, and he blames Catherine’s ghostly presence.
It’s a decent premise. The problem is, while Bury Me When I’m Dead is sold as a horror film, it’s devoid of scares, and most of Henry’s travails can be explained logically. (The poster’s psychedelic trauma image accounts for only a few minutes of the film, essentially a bad dream.)
As Henry, Devin Terrel’s expression remains grave (no pun intended) as he moves from one bad decision to the next. Charlotte Hope gives Catherine a sprightly and yet noble aura. Makenzie Leigh (Rebecca) maintains her second-choice mistress's dignity. Richard Bekins and Roxanne Hart are Catherine’s parents; both are consistently good, low-profile actors, Ms. Hart being most recognizable as a regular on TV’s Chicago Hope. Mike Houston is Buck, who haplessly provides the deus ex machina denouement.
Bury Me When I’m Dead is moody, more a study of a person on the edge. But the edge of what, exactly? Most of the action is shot in extreme close-up and in near-darkness, characters being little more than their silhouettes. It only brightens up to show off its limited CGI.
Ultimately, Bury Me When I’m Dead reveals itself to be a one-joke joint that relies on tropes from older, better movies.
(BTW: Henry’s last name is Samsa, and Rebecca’s is Gregor. Gregor Samsa is Kafka’s protagonist-turned-insect in the story The Metamorphosis. Significant or a coincidence? Sadly, that mystery is more intriguing than what goes on in Bury Me When I’m Dead.)