Folk horror, a genre predominantly associated with English cinema, has seen its fair share of remarkable works from Britain’s top filmmakers. Hence, it’s intriguing to witness director Alix Lambert and screenwriters Matt Dellapina and Sean Christopher Lewis, hailing from across the Atlantic, tackle this genre in “The Woods are Real.” However, the question remains: can their narrative withstand the transplantation from the ancient landscapes of England?
The story unfolds at a dinner party resembling a contentious scene from an Apple commercial. The diverse quartet includes Caleb and Stan, an affectionate gay couple portrayed by Nick Westrate and Jeffrey Omura, alongside Joba and Quincy, a mixed-race pair played by Matt Dellapina and Chinasa Ogbuagu. Joba’s seemingly insubstantial presence prompts Quincy to casually stab him, setting a disturbing tone. These characters are unlikable, leaving one to ponder whether the script is celebrating diversity or satirizing it. Quincy’s family operates a failing mining business, while Joba’s is in the wristwatch industry, with a remark about “little brown hands” crafting them, but the allegorical significance remains elusive.
Following a heated argument, Caleb gifts Joba and Quincy a retreat that rejuvenated him. As they venture into the woods, they encounter a peculiar house filled with antiquities, including a century-old gramophone. Suddenly, the gramophone springs to life, forewarning the couple of their impending demise. Their attempts to flee are thwarted when both the house and their car vanish, leaving them stranded with only a jar of maraschino cherries.
“The Woods are Real” finds its stride with the introduction of Campbell Scott as the deranged Woodsman, a quasi-deity of the forest. Scott’s eerie and commanding presence injects vitality into the film, as he toys with Joba and Quincy, blending pseudo-benevolent mysticism with torment. The director’s creative staging amplifies the tension, particularly in scenes where Quincy is held captive at axe point, exchanging whispered lines with the Woodsman across the clearing.
Lambert deftly showcases the breadth of folk horror, eschewing pagan themes in favor of exploring elements of the Old Testament story of Job within the confines of forest-bound horror. This thematic alignment resonates with kindred works like Ben Wheatley’s unconventional Civil War tale, “A Field in England,” and the cult classic “The Wicker Man.” “The Woods are Real” delves into dark philosophical territory with genuine inspiration and heartfelt inquiry.
