Remarkable, what I have come to love about horror movies from different countries is that it is not always the selling point of their stories. Grant, a good old-fashioned scare used to be an order of the day, and filmmakers like Guillermo del Toro (The Devil’s Backbone) and J.A. Bayona (The Orphanage) began their careers by making people scream with their sub-layers that ran beneath the plot. Interestingly, this would only be a trend in the US for select instances, where films such as The Night House were able to provide us with a more picturesque horror instead of the monotony the genre is associated with.
On that note, I will point out that the brother and sister duo of Luke and Rachel Sommer have probably tried to do something different with their new movie, Cellphone. Luke directed this film based on a script written by Rachel and produced from their original eight-minute short of the same name made in 2012, which is an ultra-low-budge effort that has more than enough bells and whistles to let you know this is a freaky flick about a mobile device that’s ‘gonna getcha’ but is more about unresolved grief than the focus of the film. However, that it can never settle down on what it wants to be and the direction that it wants to take causes its demise. As a result, this film falters in nearly every respect, missing even the most lenient standards and falling significantly below expectations.
Wynne (Whitney Rose Pynn) is standing in for an unusual employer (Malcolm McDowell from She Will, who communicates through pictures and never leaves his room) who he’s supposed to protect a remote farmhouse after witnessing the recent her husband death. Although the nature of the job is so disastrous that it defies all logic to a reasonable person, Wynne does it to gain control of herself. However, she spends most of the time on the phone, whether with an unseen advisor, McDowell, or addressing almost passive dilemma Q&A. Not long in the house, she starts hearing non existent footsteps, seeing mannequins in the hallway, and catching traces of ghostly effects on her phone camera that do not correspond to reality.
This is where all the incidents come forth that she has not been able to come to terms with as of now and so she starts interpreting what the ghosts are trying to say as something related to the ghost of her fiancé rather than to the ghost who supposedly lies in the house. It has already been indicated to us by the ever-crunchy beginning that the last occupants did not receive the best amenities, and it’s now waiting time of squirming through monotonous scenes of circular talk until the conclusion. It is only after Wynne and an eccentric man (Justin Jackson) whom she finds in the adjacent barn searching for some copper pipe (don’t ask) get more than their fair share of the story what ails us… and by then, you’ll be well past the urge to suggest that the phone be returned.
Cellphone has an interesting premise but the Sommers can’t seem to come up and sustain a cohesive line for their film. The crude techniques work to its strength in terms of it getting clearness in the visual aspect but again underscores the gaps of the story and the fitting plot. If the siblings collaborating with one another has some great intentions if their mouths have delivered this much about the intentions, it shows an unhealthy picture of push and perspectives to review their film in depth. Every couple of instances, while I felt that the film was gaining some emotional traction that it really needed, it just fizzled with sequences that seemed to be from some other film/genre.
Keeping that charm, I’d be keen to see how Pynn would perform if she had been given a better script and direction. She is also an expressive performer and has the ability to conduct a one sided phone call like nobody’s business but she is, and it’s not her fault, never entrusted with the responsibility of exploring the depth of the character she plays. The plot revolves around Jackson’s odd yet strikingly charisma that has a ‘Wonka’ twist and always pops up even when it is most inappropriate, which in turn makes it difficult for Pynn to maintain her composure with this eccentric cousin of hers who appears to be miscast all the time. Pynn and Jackson have chemistry, but this blend of horror and mystery is so curious and stagnant that one wonders what the Sommers were trying to achieve with it.
Even the frankness of the plot doesn’t make the blow that deep in part due to Cellphone’s climaxes which are lackluster and underwhelming in their quest of emotional drive. They are better off going for a piece by someone who has earned the title of a professional in understanding the perfect dichotomy between evoking scares and sadness in the same run time. Somehow imagine this as a butt dial, but a very regrettable interrogation.
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