The Scary of Sixty-First (2021)

So here it is: the infamous ...Scary of Sixty-First. Sold as something of a horror-thriller in the vein of Roman Polanski's apartment films with a modern, anti-establishment edge, it has divided critics and audiences alike on release, and I'll say up front: it's easy to see why.

The Scary of Sixty-First opens with two women apartment hunting in New York. Our 'lead,' Addie, in classic psychological horror fashion, is living out an utterly nightmarish existence. Her boyfriend won't pay attention to her, especially sexually, because he's either decorating for Christmas or playing cheap Facebook games (come on, these are not the kind of video games that distract people from sex) and her roommate for unknown reasons seems to be preparing to leave Addie behind and continue her adventures elsewhere, despite their brand-new digs. Things then threaten to spiral out of control when another unstable and mysterious woman enters into the picture, claiming to be an internet sleuth on the hunt for the truth behind Jeffrey Epstein's death and his role in an international human-trafficking organization. You see, it turns out their new apartment was involved in said events, and may contain clues to blowing the whole thing wide open. The sleuth and the sociopath split off and begin investigating, while Addie is left all alone to her own devices in the spooky apartment. So far, so basic, right? All besides the incorporation of real-world events but whatever: it's an authentic modern exploitation film, and at this point, I liked it well enough, though more than a few things were bothering me.

Right off the bat, the characters grate. Addie's roommate may be one of the most unpleasant characters ever committed to celluloid, and while a later twist helped explain some of it, it also confused other things in other scenes quite significantly, so to call it a mixed blessing would be putting it mildly. The idea is satire (I guess, anyway. We could go on forever discussing Dasha Nekrasova's beliefs and how many of her characters' wacky beliefs she shares, but regardless, it's spot on,) and it's used effectively enough once the armchair detective comes into the picture, but it hardly ever feels like its working overtime to come up with its punchlines; everything juicy is of the 'low-hanging' variety. Yes, these moments manage to amuse quite often (especially once the conspiracy comes true) but that only gets you so far. When the violence comes thick and fast in the third act, it all just feels a little unearned, and that's before we're asked to fear for some of these awful human beings, even after one of the few innocents in the story has been brutally slaughtered by giggling Joss Whedon fans. It just reminds you of how much better a film like Eyes Wide Shut did this shit years ago without having to resort to quoting verbatim popular talking points concerning QAnon and throwing aside the whole concept of relatable, human characters. And the use of New York, decked out with Christmas lights, and a late plot revelation demonstrates how thin the line is between homage and robbery: Eyes Wide Shut this is not, but for some that may be a good thing. Personally, this film may borrow a bit too liberally from other, better films, creating inevitable comparisons it can't really live up to.

I admit though: this film isn't trying to be Eyes Wide Shut, exactly. This film knows what it is and it is shlock. Grimy, unfiltered shlock and in that sense I guess it works. And the borrowed elements from classier productions may only add to its quirky, bizarre factor. Scenes of our main character Addie as she loses her mind are just... wow. At first they were far too much too quickly, but over time they grew to such a side-splitting fever-pitch of insanity and absurdity that I couldn't help but applaud. It's extremely uncomfortable to watch, and does not make for ideal family viewing material or even platonic viewing material, but it is fascinating. And for some, going in with the expectation that this is a horror-comedy, and nothing to take too seriously may 'fix' everything I've previously complained about, though I do not count myself among their number.

The one place where the film unanimously succeeds is in its recreation of the look of a grimy, seventies horror film. The grainy, naked cinematography is wonderful to see in 2022. The understated vintage synth score is also pitch-perfect. And Hell, as despicable as the characters from wall-to-wall, I imagine that that had to be the intention (right Dasha?) and that the cast did a pitch-perfect job at bringing this aspect of the characters to life. It's just that, in the end, none of this quite transcends beyond the sum of its parts for me. It did make me laugh, and I applaud it that, along with its audacity to try something different and against the grain. But it was a relatively unpleasant viewing and I don't know when, if ever, I'll be ready to tempted to watch it again, at least without a commentary track.