MaXXXine (2024) is a tribute to giallo horror of the ‘80s, The First Omen (2024) pays homage to the psychological horror of the late ‘70s/early ‘80s, In A Violent Nature (2024) adds a twist to the great American slasher film, etc. We find ourselves at a point in horror where much of what is presented to audiences these days harken to the great horror films of the past, whether in paying homage in style or just being a straight remake (though the days of the Platinum Dunes horror remakes have thankfully passed — The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Amityville Horror, Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street). I don’t mean to bring this up as some sort of dig at the state of modern horror as I find many of these films to be some of the best the genre has to offer these days, and what’s great about the Letterboxd era of film-watching is that parts of the genre once deemed obscure or region-specific have now expanded to a more mainstream appeal, giving new filmmakers a swath of film history to delve into and build on top of.
Matt Smith as Richard in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
One of my favorite sub-genres of horror that has been revitalized in recent years has been that of the folk horror, particularly British folk horror. Slow, brooding, cold films that matched the detached, repressive, conservative culture of Great Britain in the final decades of the 20th century. Homages of recent note have included British titles like Enys Men (2022), In the Earth (2021), Kill List (2011), A Field in England (2013), The Ritual (2017), Amulet (2020), and even Alex Garland’s Men (2022) could count. The influence of British folk horror has also spread to American films like Hereditary (2018), Midsommar (2019), The Witch (2015), Apostle (2018), Pyewacket (2017), The Empty Man (2020), and even older smash hits like The Blair Witch Project (1999). Seeking to emulate the slow-moving dread of said folk horror films, as well as the supernatural elements of some American and Nordic films of the era, too, Daniel Kokotajlo’s Starve Acre (2023) is an effectively understated little chiller, though perhaps adjust your expectations on how crazy you expect a film like this to get.
Morfydd Clark as Juliette in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
Richard (Matt Smith) and Juliette (Morfydd Clark) are a young married couple living in rural Northern England with their young son, Owen (Arthur Shaw). When Owen begins exhibiting random bouts of aggression during social situations, the parents begin to wonder if something more concerning is taking hold of him. However, before they can find out, Owen dies from a severe asthma attack, leaving the young couple devastated. Isolated on their rural estate, they’re comforted by close friends and neighbors, but their reality begins to slip away from both of them as a once-dead rabbit that has taken shelter in their home leads the couple to believe their son has returned to them.
L-R: Morfydd Clark as Juliette and Matt Smith as Richard in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
While there are a ton of folk horror elements to Starve Acre, I would actually compare the film more closely to Valdimar Jóhannsson’s 2021 film Lamb more than anything else (though it should be noted Starve Acre is based on a novel by Andrew Michael Hurley, published in 2019), with much bleaker results. Following a couple on a remote farm, mourning the loss of a child, and projecting their grief onto an animal that, while providing comfort, cannot replicate the presence of an actual child, but still will not stop the grieving parents from eschewing all semblance of reality to maintain the high they get from feeling like loving parents again. I would also argue, given Owen and, in turn, the rabbit’s aggressive nature, that there are major twinges of Richard Donner’s The Omen (1976) mixed into the film as well. These things, on paper, might sound mish-mash and random, but they really do come together in something genuinely cohesive and, even with the similarities, feels like its own thing.
Matt Smith as Richard in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
Starve Acre plays for a majority of its runtime as a cold, unsettling drama about the loss of a child and what that does to a person’s day-to-day demeanor rather than a straightforward horror film. Even as the film devolves into madness, there’s a groundedness to the whole ordeal which gives the viewer a unique double duty perspective, one of the parents, hypnotized by the prospect of regaining something that was forcefully taken from them, which one can understand falling into completely, and the other is the outside viewpoint of loved ones watching two grieving parents collectively lose themselves to something ridiculous in their deepest despair. It’s a particularly unique and effective way of providing the audience with simultaneous perspectives that makes the “horror” of it all so much more believable and sympathetic. Yes, these two are losing their grips, but conversely, wouldn’t you, too?
Matt Smith as Richard in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
Where Starve Acre excels most is in its performances. Morfydd Clark, in particular, who, after performances in films like Saint Maud (2019), and television like The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (2022) (for those who actually finished it), she’s proving herself to be one of the strongest actresses out of the British Isles today. There’s something about her eyes, particularly as the hope begins to slowly return, in a quiet form of madness, after losing so much so quickly, that’s absolutely transfixing to watch. The ramping tension between Clark and co-star Matt Smith (Last Night in Soho) in the wake of their child’s death is as brutal as any violence that this film mostly lacks, and is as palpable as its own antagonistic character altogether. While I can imagine that Starve Acre would be effective with other actors leading the film, there’s something special about this specific pairing that does the film an inordinate amount of good.
L-R: Erin Richards as Harrie, Morfydd Clark as Juliette, and Melanie Kilburn as Mrs. Forde in Daniel Kokotajlo’s STARVE ACRE. Photo courtesy of Brainstorm Media.
Honestly, good on Brainstorm Media for picking up this title, as it feels like the type of film that usually would’ve been snagged by the likes of NEON or A24 stateside, at least in its general vibe, and I’m always happy to see other distribution houses get their hats in the ring with their own excellent releases (even if they aren’t marketed even 1% as well, we can work on that). There are certainly familiar elements to Starve Acre that you can pin down in individual circumstances, but the final product, in the nature of an incredibly fucked-up quilt, becomes something all its own. It’s slower and quieter than the average folk horror film, and doesn’t necessarily end in particularly bombastic terms, but it’s that reserved hand that keeps the film from losing itself in unnecessary ambition. Sometimes a horror film works best when it operates more as a dark drama, and Starve Acre is exactly that type of film where a large, violent finale would have spoiled all the dread built up before it from its excellent performances and stomach-churning atmosphere. Letting films stay small is a good thing, and should be something exercised more frequently.
In select theaters and on VOD July 26th, 2024.
For more information, head to the official Brainstorm Media Starve Acre webpage.
Final Score: 4 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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