Wendigo (2001)

Larry Fessenden is something of a Stan Lee-esque figure in the world of horror, appearing in countless cameos in films from those he's influenced, not to mention name-checks aplenty. It also helps that his film company Glass Eye Pix has released some of the finest independent films in the genre, many of which credit Fessenden as a producer. Here's the thing though: I'd never seen one of the man's own films until popping in this little-discussed folk horror film from '01, and boy, did it make an impression.

Wendigo opens with a very grounded example of horror: an argument between two men. One angry, possibly intoxicated, and swinging a gun around the whole time; the other nebbish, quite reasonable, and yet firm, with a frightened family in the car waiting on him. It's tense, and very real. And just when you think the tension is going to boil over, everything kind of works out and we're on our way. It makes a lasting impression, though.

You see, our lead and his family are on their way to go stay at their friends' cabin in the snowy woods, and it isn't long before this little hiccup is long gone from their minds as they unwind in front of the fireplace, playing board games and mock-wrestling with each other. Only thing is, there's evidence that someone's been hanging around the house, looking in and possibly even watching them. Even more disturbing is the fact that it's likely the same creep who they had the run-in with on the road. See, he's their neighbor. And he hates city folk coming to the country to vacation. Buying up all the property, fencing everything off, acting all high and mighty, and flaunting their wealth; he can't stand it. While a respectful silence exists between the two for a while, the tension is palpable and events soon threaten to spiral out of control and turn violent. Our poor characters, at the mercy of their harsh environment, must stick together if they ever hope to survive the cold, cold night and the monsters, both human and not, that inhabit it.

Despite the title, general flavor, and use of Native folklore, this is less outright folk horror and more of a psychological horror film, seen mostly from the perspective of a frightened young boy, getting his first taste of existential dread as he chills with his loving parents in the desolate woods. His imagination runs wild, bringing folkloric monsters to life before our very eyes. He struggles to make sense of the world, and the way he feels about it all. He clings to his parents, as he seems to suddenly become all too aware of how quickly they might be taken away from him. His parents sense that something is going on with him, and so they play a game of parental tug of war, pulling him this way and that with aim of teaching him the ways of the world without traumatizing him. It's a very sensitive narrative, mature; something that is all too rare in the indie horror scene. It helps that the dialog is intelligent, raising interesting points and making interesting observations, and that the character's relationships with one another have depth. This makes the film's tragic turn in the third act all the more effective.

Take the film's villain, for instance. While he isn't exactly sympathetic, he does possess some degree of humanity and a surprisingly sympathetic backstory. He has a very personal reason for disliking city folk taking over his home (in more ways than one) and his psychopathy and violence build up much slower than in other horror films. Hell, his body count is puny as well. 

He isn't a typical horror villain, and he isn't dealt with at the end of the film like one either. Just when you think the folkloric angle and supernatural teases will finally pay off, it takes a sharp left turn and ends before anything satisfying can happen. This will be the sticking point for many viewers, who wish to see those who do bad things roundly punished at the end of every movie, but Wendigo is okay with nothing more than a suggestion of such karmic retribution. While the film ends in a way that forces you to carefully evaluate it and try and draw meaning from it, it does so by forcing you to look into the abyss, much like our young protagonist; the film confronts us with the ugliness, bleakness, randomness, and sadness inherent in the human condition, simple as that. In plain English, it's a miserable ending, and it won't please very many. Still, I can respect what it attempts to do, and I can't argue with the result: it's a film that sticks with you and makes you really want to dissect it.

Going along with the artful way the story is told, Wendigo is presented in a compelling way that makes the absolute best of its limited resources. Visually, the film can't hide its low budget and fast-paced production; there's shaky cam and claustrophobic close-ups everywhere, occasionally wild and wacky editing that feels completely out of place, and some goofy, if charming (and practical,) creature effects. But the music? Oh my god. The mystical, otherwordly score, comprised of folky world music that has a strong tribal quality, is just plain awesome, and perfect for such a film as this. It really sells this film's folk horror aspects, even as it becomes clear that this is more of a psychological nightmare. It sounds earthy and organic and I love it. In general, the film doesn't have many 'scares' in it, but a fair few scenes of rising dread that rely on silence to put butterflies in your gut show a remarkable control, proving that it is entirely by choice that easy jumpscares and action sequences aren't present here.

So, it's a slow burn and a very subtle one at that, with an off-putting ending that challenges horror audiences to look down the barrel of an uncaring, uncompromising universe and make sense of it. Needless to say, it's not for everyone. But for those who value care, consideration, humanity, and intelligence in their horror films, this is an easy recommend. It isn't the most fun to watch or even to consider afterwards, but it's fascinating and a wonderful introduction to the wonderful world of Larry Fessenden nonetheless.