In the Jewish tradition, each person dies twice. The first is when the person dies, their bodily functions ceasing operation through natural causes or unexpected tragedy. The second comes when someone says your name for the last time. This isn’t something that’s confined to the Jewish community as the Pixar film Coco (2017) uses this as a key dramatic element in the film, borrowing heavily from the Mexican community. This preservation of memory is often viewed as a way to keep someone from fading entirely into obscurity, a way to keep their spirit around, as being remembered is a power unto itself. On the flip side, there are those who should be absorbed into the anonymity of history as it would be a direct blessing to those whom have been scarred by the deceased’s very existence. In his latest feature film, writer/director Stuart Ortiz (Grave Encounters) tackles this notion through a faux-true crime documentary, the crime thriller Strange Harvest: Occult Murder in the Inland Empire, having its world premiere at Fantastic Fest 2024. The technological precision of the real merging with the lacerations of the fiction, creating a world with horrors that the audience gets so drawn into that they forget that it’s all made up.
A still from in the horror film, STRANGE HARVEST: OCCULT MURDER IN THE INLAND EMPIRE. Photo courtesy of Matthew M. Garcia.
San Bernadino County detectives Joseph Kirby and Alexis Taylor (Peter Zizzo and Terri Apple, respectively) sit down with a group of filmmakers to recount the murders committed by an individual who went by the name “Mr. Shiny.” At first, it was three unsolved murders in the 1990s, but when another gruesome scene appeared in 2010, the partners knew Mr. Shiny had returned. Through talking head interviews, archived news footage, body cams, and more, the filmmakers walk the audience from horrifying beginning to disquieting end as Dets. Kirby and Taylor serve as guides, recounting the occult murders within the Inland Empire region of coastal Southern California.
Peter Zizzo as Detective Joseph Kirby in the horror film, STRANGE HARVEST: OCCULT MURDER IN THE INLAND EMPIRE. Photo courtesy of Matthew M. Garcia.
Before we even get into the narrative and performances, the framing of the entire film as a faux-true crime documentary is risky, but excellently executed. From the prelude to the title credits to the structure and pacing, the whole of Strange Harvest plays exactly like a real true crime documentary to the point where seeing a familiar face or two (Andy Lauer, specifically) breaks the spell that Ortiz has cast. The specificity, the depth of knowledge, Ortiz displays regarding the visual language of true crime tales inspires one to even check the chryon, the running ticker during most news programs, for hidden clues or in-jokes, and I’m still not sure if a few things weren’t. So whether it’s the solo talking head interviews with Kirby and Taylor in different locations and placed in opposition (staged to help differentiate the two and give their scenes more of a conversational feel when jumping between interviews), the use of body-cam footage from investigating patrol officers, or even lower-grade security cameras, there’s a strong sense of realism due to the grittiness, the less-produced moments in contrast to the professional shots, that courses throughout the film. Of course, this is only compounded when the audience is given a close-up view of the carnage, the use of living evidence and prosthetic making the strongest of us just a little queasy. All possible because of the sincerity Ortiz approaches the language of the film as a mimic of true crime docs.
The visual language, pacing, and structure only go so far in a film like this. You can utilize the language, you can provide the ebb and flow of information that sustains tension (something which Ortiz does wonderfully here), but all that knowledge is useless without the performances. Whether it’s Zizzo (Impulse) and Apple (Murder at Hollow Creek) as the frustrated detectives or the silent performance from Jessee Clarkson as Mr. Shiny (a debut performance, by the way, that’s positively chilling), everyone is dialed in and meeting Ortiz where the technical aspects are. Dialogue that’s often technical, claptrap, or procedural goop is made natural and engaging from Zizzo and Apple, providing an anchor for the film’s narrative; the very “experts” that appear are informative and energetic in a way that gives Strange Harvest an adrenaline boost; and Clarkson creates within Mr. Shiny a villain that straddles the bridge between fiction and real, generating chills each time we see him on the screen, masked or not.
Terri Apple as Detective Alexis Taylor in the horror film, STRANGE HARVEST: OCCULT MURDER IN THE INLAND EMPIRE. Photo courtesy of Matthew M. Garcia.
Where the film struggles is in the ending, which doesn’t necessarily result in the anxiety it seeks to induce. Part of this is due to the faux-doc approach which has us learning about the story *after* its resolution, the footage bringing us into it in a wibbly-wobbly timey-whimey way. Up until the end, this method of overlapping tools to recount the events, especially with the section involving Travis Wolfe Sr.’s Officer Pearce that’s heartbreaking due to his storytelling aptitude, keep the audience on the edge of their seats, but where it all leads isn’t so much a cliffhanger or clear resolution, but something in the middle that doesn’t satisfy as much as one may desire. It’s something that falls in line with other projects produced and/or distributed by XYZ Films (examples not-provided so as not to have the viewing audience expect one thing or another by association) and often is executed in such a way that, clarity in the conclusion or not, the audience is appropriately unsettled. Ok, here’s one example via the faux-documentary Something in the Dirt (2022), which starts as one type of film and ends as another, the reveal of the truth and the knowing of the truth on rewatches making the film richer than expected on the first watch. Here, however, it’s as though Ortiz wrote himself into a corner that, through the framing of the faux-documentary, there’s no way to stick the landing without breaking said frame. Considering how invested one becomes along the way, how real Ortiz’s vision feels, the weakness in the ending frustrates, though not enough to reduce all that came before.
A still from in the horror film, STRANGE HARVEST: OCCULT MURDER IN THE INLAND EMPIRE. Photo courtesy of Matthew M. Garcia.
What does linger as the credits roll (please do stay through, by the by) is a notion brought up by a victim’s mother and it’s the concept that this review began with. What does it mean to give killers like Mr. Shiny a film like Strange Harvest? What does it mean for other serial killers long since dead, but not forgotten because stories keep digging them back up? Why do we as a society work so hard to excavate the horrors of the world and keep them ever-present? Why do we give them space while the victims are forgotten? What is it about the transfer of power, the fascination that keeps audiences returning? While Ortiz doesn’t investigate this specifically, it’s a thought that the audience is left with and it echoes in a way that floors nearly as much as the grotesque horrors Mr. Shiny bestows upon his various victims. Heck, this review, unless redacted, is now an alter for which Mr. Shiny’s fans can remember him, whereas not a single victim is mentioned. Is that a by-product of trying to keep the review spoiler-free and surprises intact or have I fallen into the trap Ortiz has set?
An excellent question that may haunt me for some time.
Screened during Fantastic Fest 2024.
In theaters August 8th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Fantastic Fest 2024 Strange Harvest: Occult Murder in the Inland Empire webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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