Eyes of Fire (1983)

As a way of ensuring I end up actually watching every film in the All the Haunts be Ours box, I have been popping the films in totally blindly, one by one, and just watching, similar to how I'm now trying to write this in a looser, less figured style. The first film in the set is an obscure American horror film, apparently previously unavailable on home video, entitled Eyes of Fire that I really quite enjoyed. It won't be to everyone's tastes and those who like their films a little more grounded and action-packed may not enjoy it, but overall I found it quite above-average for the genre, and a great deal more academic than is typical for horror films. It predicts genre titans to come such as Robert Eggers's The VVitch, and blends folklore from various religions and traditions to create something fascinating.

When the film begins, you could easily glimpse the costuming, shaky performances from bit characters, and the use of voice-over narration from a child that helpfully contextualizes everything and determine that this is some kind of made-for-TV colonial drama; the kind you might have watched in high school. Give it time, though, and it reveals itself to have plenty of teeth once the horror takes hold. Furthermore, its low budget is both a blessing and a curse: while it may make aspects like the costuming look cheap, it also forces the film to use a lo-fi, organic approach that makes it feel more real than many modern horror films about this kind of subject matter. It's appropriate for a film about nature and the things lurking within, as everything looks quite natural in a way that reminded me of Werner Herzog's Aguirre, the Wrath of God; specifically, a full-grown horse standing up in a tiny boat with a man sitting so close that if the horse were to need to relieve itself, the poor sod would most likely be caught in the crossfire. So to say the film is something that grows on you slowly and needs time to work its way through your system is absolutely the truth, though that doesn't entirely do justice to how relatively little you'll be checking your watch while viewing it.

The core of the film is its almost academic approach to the subject matter. This film knows what a folk tale is and how to create an original that feels new while also feeling distinctly ancient. We get witches, fairies, oily maniacs, flowers that sing, faces buried in trees, naked, primordial beings that snatch babies from their mothers and drink the milk from livestock in the night, all set in the early days of America: a period ripe for superstition and descents into madness. It just keeps snowballing as it goes on, accumulating more and more ideas until it threatens to spin out of control, though to its credit, it never really does. 

It's a very literary horror film then, but it never forgets that it's a piece of entertainment first and foremost. Pacing is tight and gripping throughout. The visuals are always going new places and surprising you. Effects are wild and creative, and occasionally silly, but for each image that causes a chuckle, a fair few others will elicit a shudder, and. The optical effects are expertly integrated and maintain a handmade, carefully considered feel that's missing in something like, say, Children of the Corn. I think it hits the perfect balance of being fun and charming and actually quite creepy and unsettling from a visual standpoint, which is appropriate for such a wild and untamed folk tale as this one.

It won't appeal to everyone. As I said, it's a little nerdy in a way that may lock out some viewers that aren't way into the subject, and its focus on natural visual texture, colonial history, and obscure folklore may turn off some that like their horror a little more streamlined and less heavy on the cerebral aspects, but I for one found it charming and entirely satisfying. An exciting start for All the Haunts Be Ours.