The Severed Sun, 2024.
Directed by Dean Puckett.
Starring Toby Stephens, Emma Appleton, Barney Harris, Lewis Gribben, James Swanton, and Jodhi May.
SYNOPSIS:
Paranoia creeps into a secluded religious community after a local man is murdered, with some believing a mythical beast is waiting in the woods.
Despite a massive resurgence a couple of years back, the folk horror genre hasn’t really offered up anything new recently. Yes, filmmakers can take bits of The Wicker Man or The Blood on Satan’s Claw and subvert them for modern audiences, but is there really anything left to say about society, class or gender politics through the filter of rural peasants from days gone by that hasn’t been said already? Based on what The Severed Sun presents us with, probably not.
That isn’t to say that The Severed Sun doesn’t have merit, because it does and in many ways, but beneath the surface level story of a rural religious community lead by a fanatical pastor (played with admirably restrained pomp by Toby Stephens), there are no surprises to be had, which could have been a good thing if there was a little more substance to the story. As it is, The Severed Sun says and does most of the things that a good folk horror movie should, but it just misses the mark.
The movie opens with The Pastor’s daughter Magpie (Emma Appleton) poisoning her abusive husband and then chopping up his body, emerging covered in blood during one of her father’s sermons to the local congregation, and immediately The Severed Sun impresses due to the fantastic cinematography of Ian Forbes, who captures the atmosphere and – for use of a better word – spirit of folk horror with gorgeous shots of the sun, the moon and the framing of Magpie as she returns to her father, albeit not to return to the bosom of his church.
However, the story is short on details and we find things out as events unfold. It turns out The Pastor arranged his daughter’s marriage knowing that she was to be the victim of her husband’s temper, which has caused the rift between them. We never see any of the abuse, nor spend more than a few minutes with her husband so it is all exposition, and when the men of the village start to get bumped off following the husband’s death, the blame is put on a beast (played by James Swanton in a simple but creepy image that keeps popping up) that supposedly lives in the forest and whom Magpie is accused of worshipping by the other churchgoers, prompting The Pastor to choose between his love for his daughter and his duty as the local clergy.
So far, so very folk horror, but the continuous cries of “Heretic!” aimed at Magpie and the backstory that is never fully fleshed out become frustrating as the movie goes on as there is little reason to get behind any of these characters, including Magpie, despite the fact that she is obviously a victim of abuse, but she does do a lot of abusing herself. The same with The Pastor, who has sinister plans of his own for his daughter, or are they sinister? He is a father who – according to the attitudes of the time – wants what is best for his daughter (as he sees it) but must also practice what he preaches in front of his followers, so is he a bad man?
Well, there are a few other small plot details that crop up to sway you one way of the other, but nothing ever feels fully resolved. And speaking of the attitudes of the time, what time period is this supposed to be? It could be a period piece, as the costumes and props are all old-fashioned, but it could also be a contemporary piece, just set far away on an island well away from modern technology.
It is the sense of vagueness, combined with the deliberately lethargic pace, permeating The Severed Sun that makes it a less than satisfying experience overall. The ending does offer some sort of resolution to the story, and the visuals, gore effects and the performances help in making getting to that point a lot easier, but given how much the movie basks folk horror tropes and trademarks, it all just feels a little clunky and underdeveloped.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Chris Ward
