[Watch out for
Spoilers.]
Some
months ago, I happened to catch a trailer for an upcoming horror movie called Tell
Me How I Die (2016). I felt the movie looked promising, and made a note
to catch it when it became available.
Well,
I screened Tell Me How I Die this week, and I can now state, unfortunately,
that the movie squanders most of its remarkable promise.
First
off, Tell
Me How I Die features a great central idea. The movie is about an
experimental drug called A9913 that can cause premonitions in those who take it. The
film’s setting is also strong and memorable: a high-tech dormitory where human trials
for the drug are occurring. Beyond the high-tech building, a wintry storm
rages.
On
top of this, Tell Me How I Die also boasts some genuinely disturbing imagery
and gore. There are two death scenes here
that will make you wriggle uncomfortably, as characters head unknowingly
towards messy demises.
And
finally, the movie even features a nice sense of “homage” to the oeuvre of
Stephen King. The question on this front, however, is: does it mean anything? Is
the homage purposeful? Or is it just cute, an Easter egg for horror fans who
have watched the same movies and read the same books?
Alas,
the values I just enumerated are largely undercut by the movie’s excessively
poor execution.
Tell
Me How I Die is
poorly acted for the most part, features terrible dialogue, and ends on a
completely lackluster and underwhelming note. The movie goes on and on, and
just gets worse and worse, until it ends not with a bang, but with a whimper.
I’m
very disappointed with the final shape and form of Tell Me How I Die, and
yet I still feel there’s a great horror film trapped somewhere in the
ingredients, locked away in the footage, perhaps, just a step beyond our
perception of “linear time,” to quote the movie.
“There
is no sensation that the mind cannot experience as real.”
Former
bartender, Anna (Virginia Gardner) -- in need of cash -- decides to join a
human trial for a new “limbic stimulator,” A9913, designed to enhance human
memory. During a winter blizzard, Anna and
other test members stay locked up in high-tech science building, under the
watchful eye of the drug designer, twitchy Dr. Jerrem (William Mapother).
Anna
soon becomes friends with the other human guinea pigs, some of whom have been
given a placebo instead of the actual drug.
Among those taking the test: handsome, stalwart Den (Nathan Kress),
illicit drug connoisseur Scratch (Ryan Higa), temperamental pool shark Marcus
(Mark Furz), and Kristin (Kirby Bliss Blanton).
Soon
after taking the drug, however, side-effects are noticed. In particular,
percipients experience flash-forwards to future events. Unfortunately for Anna,
she has a premonition in which she sees the other guinea pigs die, apparently
from poison gas. Anna also sees visions
in which her friends die in terrible ways.
As
Dr. Jerrem reveals, this is not the first clinical test for A9913. Another
patient, from a previous trial, had a psychotic break, and his mind stopped
experiencing time as linear. Now, that patient -- Pascal -- is back, able to
anticipate everybody’s move (because of his future vision). Worse, he is leading
Anna and her cohorts to violent deaths.
“I
don’t know when ‘now’ is.”
One
of the most intriguing – if not successful -- aspects of Tell Me How I Die
involves the allusions to Stephen King’s The Shining.
Both
stories take place in isolated locations during blizzards, for instance. And
both also contend with a “sense” beyond normal human mental processes. The connections are not merely broad ones,
either, but specific too.
For
example, Dr. Jerrem’s office is number 237, which was the room of evil in The
Overlook Hotel in The Shining (1980).
Also,
the name of the big pharmaceutical company testing A9913 is Hallorann. Halloran,
of course, is a character gifted with “the shining” in King’s narrative.
There’s
also a helicopter shot gazing down at Anna’s car as it approaches the pharma
building, much like the shot Kubrick utilized to show the progress of the
Torrances in their car as it approached the Overlook.
Another
character in Tell Me How I Die is named Pascal, which may or may not be an
allusion to Pascow in Pet Sematary (1989).
The
point of homage is to draw attention back to material audiences recognize and
love. But a really good homage is also transformative, and colors the new
narrative in a way that deepens our understanding of it. I’m not sure that Tell
Me How I Die succeeds on the latter front. I definitely recognized The
Shining references, but they didn’t add anything to my understanding of
the characters or their situation.
If
the makers of the film don’t manage to make these allusions meaningful, they do
certainly, put some imaginative thought into the nefarious, brutal murders
orchestrated by the killer, Pascal, who perceives life outside the confines of
linear time.
One
scene finds a security guard crawl, face first, into a buried-in-the-snow bear
trap. We see what is in his path, but he doesn’t.
The
other death scene of note sees a girl drop into a laundry chute. She rockets
down the channel, only to find it blocked at one juncture with coiled, barbed
wire. She manages to stop herself -- briefly -- before it tears her to ribbons.
In
both gory death sequences, director D.J. Viola meticulously sets up the traps,
and makes viewers (painfully) aware of the damage the various devices (bear
traps and wire) will do to the victims.
The key to staging a good death scene in a horror movie is to create and
enhance an audience’s sense of awareness and dread about what is going to
happen, sometimes before the character does. In these cases, Viola achieves
that goal. In short, Viola creates suspense.
Unfortunately,
Tell
Me How I Die drags, and finally lasts about ten-to-fifteen minutes too
long. The actors are called upon to play characters puzzling out the mystery,
and some aren’t up to the task in some later scenes, and lack believability.
The
survivors, in the last act, realize that Pascal can see the future, and since
Anna has seen how they will die, they have to somehow change the future. If
Anna sees it, then it will happen (because Pascal has seen it too and will
orchestrate it).
One
character suggests killing Anna outright, so that she can’t see her
deaths. But then the characters don’t
stumble upon the smartest, easiest answer. Why don’t they blindfold Anna, so
she can’t see anything? If she can’t see
anything, then there’s no danger. Pascal
can’t see what she hasn’t witnessed.
Or,
if that’s too byzantine, remember that these folks are in a medical
facility. Couldn’t they just tranquilize
Anna and render her unconscious, again precluding her from “seeing” (and thus
setting up…) their deaths?
The
movie lasts so long that you start to actually outsmart the characters as they
labor to come up with a way to survive the night. But the movie, at this point, tries to be
desperately clever, using an approach something like “Is it live or is it
Memorex?” Something dreadful happens, or
something heroic, and then we find out it was only a vision, and now it has to
happen again, but it does so in an unexpected way.
So
all this creativity goes into the last act as the filmmakers try to play the
audience like a piano, but the attempt fails.
The characters are cardboard. The situation is muddled. And the suspense is minimal (except for the
occasions I outlined above). And then
the movie just ends suddenly, with absolutely nothing resolved. It’s like the
writer (James Hibberd) worked so hard on third act twists that he had nothing
left for the denouement. This is
frustrating, considering your time investment in the film. It could have at
least ended definitively (either happily, or sadly).
Instead,
Tell
Me How I Die just stops.
Most
of the dialogue in the film is really dreadful, too. Scratch’s is probably the
lamest. He is able to explain quantum reality and non-linear time, for
instance, because he watches “a lot of Doctor Who.” The line, like virtually all the
character’s jokes, falls painfully flat.
Some moments here even threaten to become camp, such as the moment that the young hero spontaneously sheds his shirt to face Pascal, so we can all ogle his buff, toned arms.
Tell
Me How I Die?
Well,
if this movie is an indication, it could be of boredom, or finally, derision.
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