In the interest of getting “hard” copies of my work under one roof, I plan to spend the next few weeks posting the entire archive of my film journalism here on ScullyVision. With due respect to the many publications I’ve written for, the internet remains quite temporary, and I’d hate to see any of my work disappear for digital reasons. As such, this gargantuan project must begin! I don’t want to do it. I hate doing it. But it needs to be done. Please note that my opinions, like everyone’s, have changed a LOT since I started, so many of these reviews will only represent a snapshot in time. Objectivity has absolutely no place in film criticism, at least not how I do it.
Originally posted on Cinema76.
Dave “Mike Pancake” Franco makes his directorial debut with The Rental, a deceptively simple single location horror flick that totally rocks. It’s definitely a movie that you should go into with very little plot information, and I will do my best to preserve the experience for you. The same way that Jaws aimed to make us afraid of the ocean and Psycho aimed to make us afraid of the shower, The Rental upends a more contemporary locale: the AirBNB.
It’s a perfect target too. I love staying at a rental property as much as the next traveler, but the fact of the matter is that in doing so, there’s a bit of an honor system at play. Sure, the online community helps to ensure as much safety as it can, but at the end of the day, I’m still going to sleep in a stranger’s bed, in a stranger’s home, with little knowledge of who said stranger is beyond a star rating. And I never really think about the fact that the homeowner has a copy of every key they’ve given out. While highly unlikely, the host is perfectly capable of walking in on my vacation at any moment. So put the drugs away and get your pants back on, me.
The Rental systematically exploits every hole in the illusory safety of a vacation rental over a delectably slow-burning 88 minutes (the second best runtime for a movie — the first is 93 minutes). It begins as a mumblegore picture, with loose chatter and relationship woes ruling the day, before morphing into a full on stalk-and-slash chiller. At the same time, it banks on the audience expecting horror to occur at every turn. The catch being that it primes the viewer for a hundred different creeping dreads before settling on ten that they never even considered. I know this probably means nothing to you, dear reader, but I refuse to spoil the ways in which the film will toy with you. Looking back on all the little touches that seemed innocuous in the moment, it occurs to me that this is a film with high rewatch value. I certainly can’t wait to watch my friends watch it for the first time.
The story goes like this: Charlie (Dan “Hunky Hunkface” Stevens) and Mina (Sheila Vand) have just turned a huge corner in their startup company, and to celebrate, they’ve decided to have a weekend getaway. Charlie will be bringing his wife Michelle (Alison Brie), while Mina will be bringing her boyfriend Josh (Jeremy Allen White), who also happens to be Charlie’s brother. The rental property is a bit on the expensive side, but it’s a celebration, so the foursome decides it’s worth the money. Upon meeting the homeowner (Toby Huss), things begin to feel a little out of place. He’s a cold guy with a somewhat dark personality, and he seems more than a little dismissive of Mina specifically, who is Middle Eastern and very aware that she is being viewed as less than her friends because of it. She’s unwilling to let it slide, and her justified confrontation with the host puts some tension in the air. Ultimately it’s decided to keep the booking and chalk up the host’s behavior to “whatever, boomer.”
And then everybody starts drinking. And then the drugs come out. And then a horror movie happens.
For the first hour or so of the film, interpersonal drama rules the day. A genuine lived-in feeling permeates the character interactions, while a host of seemingly harmless occurrences mixed with some suspicious ones add to the strain our characters are under. At about the midway point, escalations start coming quick, leading to a breathlessly paced, deeply unsettling third act. The shift in tone might feel cheap to some, and it’s admittedly jarring as it happens, but in hindsight I really think it works. What initially reads as a rug pull is actually just a reframing of what’s important, and the way it makes so many gigantic conflicts seem small might actually be the point. It gives the later plot developments a doomed feeling that chills to the bone (horror fans will know of the “doomsayer” role — a standby in all slashers, but absent here for reasons of subversion). With so much time spent getting to know the characters, all of whom are performed wonderfully, we get a horror flick almost completely devoid of the panicked, illogical motivations inherent to denizens of the genre. Don’t get me wrong — plenty of bad decisions are made by the protagonists, but they all make sense.
As a director, Pancake shows considerable chops. While there are some “first time filmmaker” warts, the fact that Pancake isn’t shooting for prestige makes these problems palatable. A little shagginess is to be expected in a horror flick anyway, and said scrap is indicative of just how lacking in pretension the whole thing is. While the film does function in a vacuum, and is made without intentions for sequelization, it seems that Pancake has nonetheless left room for this concept to be revisited. At the very least, there’s a new piece of horror iconography out there now that I’d love to see again. Until then, I’ll be touting the graces of The Rental to anyone who will listen.
And I will never, EVER stop calling Dave Franco “Mike Pancake.” I sat through Unfinished Business, so this is my right.
The Retnal is now available for digital rental.
