An isolated cabin in the wintry Canadian countryside becomes the site of a family kangaroo court, as elderly Donna (Olwen Fouéré) abducts the man she believes murdered her granddaughter. The latter’s mother Valerie (Camille Sullivan) and teenage sister Kay (Summer H. Howell) have also been invited. Not to evaluate evidence and validate the verdict, but to help Donna dispose of the body. The preposterous premise of Rebekah McKendry’s addition to the 79th Locarno Film Festival, delegated to Out of Competition since the festival lacks a Midnight Movie section, sounds like a trashy take on Ariel Dorfman’s classic stage play Death and the Maiden.
Any further likeness to the moralist meditation on revenge and guilt is literally cut short in conjunction with the prisoner’s life. Before the plot can take a turn to In Order of Disappearance, the life of the murderer – who conveniently confessed without an ounce of remorse, to erase any trace of psychological ambivalence – is miraculously restored. As it turns out, he technically has been dead for a long time and brought his own family along. From there the pieced-together plot dives into a horror home invasion scenario that draws out the part in countless murder or monster films where the villains besiege the protagonists.
For those halfway familiar with the director’s work that regularly includes her husband and screenwriter David Ian McKendry, this revelation is as foreseeable as the schematic story – or what’s left of it at this point. A prolific genre filmmaker, originality and innovation on any cinematic level were never the strong side of McKendry (which one doesn’t really matter, since this goes for them both). The generic scenario and stereotypical characters would be acceptable, should the half-baked hotchpotch only bring some self-aware humor or dynamic to the ensuing fight: human vs. vampire family. It never asks any of the ethical questions which could make the confrontation more complex.
There is the obvious question of how different Donna and her daughter actually are from the monsters, if they capture, torture, and execute a stranger on mere suspicion for a bit of sadistic satisfaction. With its demonstrative disregard for judicial fairness and proud predilection for vigilantism, the death penalty, and biological families over chosen families, the crude vampire yarn is less scary for its stage blood and ridiculous fake fangs than for its reactionary subtext. Fittingly, these Christian-conservative implications are as formulaic and fusty as the visuals. Though thankfully reduced to a few morbid moments, the special effects are pitifully unconvincing and the fights clumsily choreographed.
Jokes fall flat, and the dialogue is utterly ridiculous with its clunky exposition at the oddest moments and manipulative sentiment. The story is full of logical inconsistencies, plot holes, and narrative contradictions. Even the minimalist monster makeup with multiple rows of teeth is copied from Fright Night. It’s a pity to see an excellent actress like Olwen Fouéré in this recycling of slightly better genre fare. The snowy Canadian landscape makes for some picturesque shots, but these are never developed into atmosphere or a distinctive look. Just like its monstrous antagonists, Sundown is a lifeless revenant that hides its antiquated nature behind a modern mask.
- OT: Sundown
- Director: Rebekah McKendry
- Year: 2026
