FilmSnobReviews

Title: Run Sweetheart Run
MPAA Rating: R
Director: Shana Feste
Starring: Ella Balinska, Shohreh Aghdashloo, Jess Gabor
Runtime: 1 hr 33 mins

What It Is: Single mother Cherie (Balinska) is recommended a date by her concerned boss. It goes well–until all of a sudden it doesn’t. The date, Ethan (Pilou Asbaek) reveals himself to have supernatural abilities and fits of hunger for her blood. He allows her to challenge him if she can escape the hunt until morning. Cherie struggles to survive the seemingly unstoppable force.

What We Think: I am going to be really honest and I’m going to try to be kind because I’m not entirely sure how else to tackle this. I even considered not tackling this at all. “Why bother?” This was really, really, really tough, though not as tough as having to experience it all by myself in the way I did. Yes, I was in a theater with a group of people who seemed to be enjoying themselves. What at first seemed to be yet another Blumhouse joint, much akin to last year’s (Sweetheart), it quickly turned sour. I still hope to keep complete perspective on this–again, I will be maintaining full transparency, because this review’s a little different. This case is a little more complex due to the film’s nature versus its intentions. On top of that, I have my own biases, experiences, and unfiltered reactions. For you readers out there, I can’t promise this is a normal review so much as it is something much more personal that I must address in order to write about it.

I sat in the theater for this action-horror movie, stylistically reminiscent of works such as Hostel and the Evil Dead remake. The people around me seemed to be enjoying the film much more lightly, cringing at the gore, jumping at the usual sort of jumpscares, laughing at the ridiculousness of the story and the sudden fantastical elements. I was doing none of this. I was coping–a reaction that I don’t want to believe is entirely to the fault of the movie, yet at the same time… I suddenly found myself crying silently in the theater. My mouth and my nostrils wouldn’t stop trembling for a while. I tried drawing squiggles, x’s and o’s, and crooked smiley faces in my notebook where I usually write down my thoughts for reviews during screenings. I did this to try and pull myself back, to take a moment to distract myself. There was no way I was gonna walk out of that theater, not in that state. The darkness of the room and staring ahead was the only way I could maintain and conceal myself.

This occurred multiple times throughout the film. This has never happened to me with a movie like this; usually it takes a lot for me to break down. For those of you who follow my words, know me personally, know my work, you know I love to feel things intensely and I’ve seen practically everything under the sun when it comes to things of a graphic nature. My favorite movies often involve darker subject matters and I praise films that make me feel things immensely. Instead, here, I felt trapped and confused, even though it’s a movie that doesn’t even come close to a lot the hyper-violence already available in the entirety of cinema. And yet.

So, what is it about this film? What separates it from any other beat-for-beat horror movie with screaming women and perverted villains with immense supernatural power? I suppose despite the silliness, the blatant message of rape and classism and the intention to be a plainly American horror film, what does set it apart is it addresses today’s climate of rape culture more forwardly, if not forcefully. It was a strange limbo, a middle ground that grew more and more toxic in its dark references to domestic abuse and the Me Too movement. Again, I’m not saying any of these subjects should not be addressed. They should be, period. But with nuance. And those nuances, the right nuances, aren’t here.

In the end, it’s just a movie. And that was part of the problem–it was just a movie. All other iconic horror films with this sort of subject matter, for example, Martyrs, I Spit On Your Grave, Evil Dead, or even Texas Chainsaw Massacre (which had a solid cameo in this film) had a line. They had borders and boundaries. You know what kind of films you’re getting into because they handle a specific wheelhouse. The best of these films choose to challenge the audience and the horror genre as a whole and either entertain you or make you more empathetic. This film made it a point to rub your face in the lead character’s suffering without this sort of nuance, without a line, without feeling grounded in reality in order to bring about the essential nature of its attempted message. Every scene sees the protagonist scream, cry and run repetitively. She’s hunted down largely because she was menstruating and the smell of blood attracts the killer. Almost all the male characters and all the rich characters left her behind, ignored her, abused her. An Egyptian-God-esque Antichrist-esque figure is seeking to quite literally tear her apart for sexual pleasure. I can’t say I haven’t seen this in other films… and yet now I am affected deeply. I’m not angry about it. I know what the purpose of the film is, it’s made unavoidably clear time after time within the story, but for me, it failed to show me how it wanted to change things. It was an off sort of fantasy trying to get away with the most morbid of subject matters. It wasn’t grounded enough to be taken seriously by the audience, yet gruesome enough to bring me back to a much darker, personal place. It’s a silly horror flick with dry dialogue and a predictable plot (very obviously The Most Dangerous Game right off the bat)…

This is very difficult for me to articulate without running in circles. But then again, I’m here to say my peace. There were some things that the film had that were valuable, in general. Balinska’s performance got better and better the longer the film went on.

No, I am not offended. I am not hateful. I am merely a critic. I’m just a person who loves movies. But I was left empty by the amount of exploitation that ran me over. It’s not your average exploitation either. An average movie, yes. Yet somehow other than the lesser elements, it felt as if it was exploiting victimhood despite being about victimhood and ultimately survival. It was a contradictory experience, anything but subtle and everything flashy. It was a real-life nightmare dressed in plain clothes. I don’t know how else to describe it. One moment I was watching a Blumhouse joint, the next I was reminded of how scared I used to be and should be. At the same, I wasn’t at any point scared. I was just grieving again. I was reminded of just… everything. And I never thought I would be the person to say that. Still, in the end, I have to ask myself the question… is it just me? Either way, to my point and the movie’s, I have a voice too. And I’m saying that this crossed the line for me. This was done all wrong. I didn’t feel invigorated or motivated or moved, or really entertained even. I felt duped.

Our Grade: D, This is a biased review, namely because I don’t know what else to think or feel. I don’t know what else to write outside of what I think or feel. I’m just one person. Nonetheless, this was my experience. And I felt hurt, even though I know I really shouldn’t have to this extent. The allegory was there, the intentions were good… they’re great. At least they tried addressing something like that at all… But if we judged movies solely on their intentions and subject matter, all movies would be winners. I can’t live like that, not acknowledging what can be improved, what is off. It was too in-between, too desensitized. While a woman was being chased down, screaming and crying from a man in tirelessly in pursuit of her, solely focused on hunting her down and doing presumably the worst things that can be done to a human being, people, expressing quite audibly and physically, were entertained. They didn’t need to care about what was happening. In the end, it’s just a movie. And, for these reasons or for whatever else, that doesn’t sit right. For once, I felt that this was a jumbled mess that was too in between rape-horror and everyman’s B movie. It was a self-defeating attempt. But I suppose, in the end, it just simply wasn’t for me.