Review by Ben Bussey
Anyone who sets out to make a microbudget indie horror has some very real obstacles to face. Not only do you have the basic creative challenge of crafting a movie which gives people something a bit new, different, and preferably at least a little bit scary; you also have to do all that with minimal resources. It’s little wonder, then, that so many microbudget horrors never venture beyond the basic kids in a cabin format; many lapse into deliberate self-parody, trying to make a joke of their own creative deficiency. But for an indie horror to attempt something a bit more challenging, both technically and in terms of storytelling; that’s an even greater obstacle, and a noble challenge to face.
The Ballad of Skinless Pete is the sixth feature film to date from director Dustin Mills, and his third in 2013 alone. It’s the first film of his I’ve seen to date, but from a cursory glance at his other credits – with such titles as Easter Casket and Bath Salt Zombies – one gets the impression this is perhaps his most seriously intended work thus far. On a basic level it doesn’t necessarily stray too far from the basic kids in a cabin set-up, given it mostly takes place in a single location with a mere cast of four (two of whom are essentially cameos), and it more than meets its quota of bloodshed and nudity. However, in terms of subject matter it goes to some very different places indeed, touching on some fairly sophisticated ideas, even if it doesn’t necessarily treat them in the most sophisticated manner. The resulting film may not be an unequivocal success, but it’s certainly a striking, unorthodox and entertaining blend of cerebral body horror and midnight movie schlock.
The titular Pete (Brandon Salkill, also co-writer) is a young doctor who clearly doesn’t set his sights low: he’s hellbent on curing cancer. Although he’s kept it to himself, he has a very personal stake in the matter, as he himself is a terminal case. Happily, he thinks he’s found the key in a rare flesh eating parasite. Naturally both he and his collaborator Alice (Erin R. Ryan) are thrilled – unfortunately the guy funding their research won’t float the bill unless they can prove their theory. With little left to lose, Pete proposes playing human guinea pig himself. Ignoring Alice’s objections, he doses himself, and to his delight his cancer promptly vanishes; unfortunately it isn’t too long before the remainder of his flesh goes the same way, and with it his sanity.
It’s a premise that immediately calls to mind Cronenberg, and indeed there is much about The Ballad of Skinless Pete which is particularly evocative of The Fly: the minimal cast, the metamorphosis theme, and the emphasis on a deeply troubled man becoming dangerously obsessed with a failed romance. (There’s also an amusing direct nod to Jeff Goldblum’s performance in there.) However, in many respects the mood here is more reminiscent of vintage Stuart Gordon. While the cast are put through their paces with material that is dramatically challenging and for the most part seriously handled, there is also a heavy absurdist element, and an abundance of what-the-fuck moments that leave you questioning if you really just saw what you saw. The key thing to note is that, while there’s no escaping that this is a really low budget production, a hell of a lot of effort has clearly gone into the make-up FX. There’s some really impressive stuff here, with gallons of goo and some fairly lifelike states of decomposition.
More of a question mark hangs over how well the cast convince as medical professionals. Salkill is on screen the bulk of the time, and his theatrical, melodramatic acting style is sometimes at odds with the script, threatening to undo the more sombre moments. Ultimately, as much as this is a gross-out body horror, it’s also a pretty serious study of rejection and the emotional carnage it brings, and it’s effective in this for the most part; Erin R. Ryan also does great work as the well-meaning friend who can’t help not reciprocating his feelings. But any time things threaten to get too emotionally raw or touchy-feely, there’s always an extended sequence of bizarre creature FX and/or gratuitous full-frontal nudity around the corner. Sure, such scenes are by no means unwelcome in a midnight movie of this kind, but they do result in a slightly uneven tone. I suspect a little more time spent on the script might have helped here, as we also have some awkwardly inserted flashback moments, and an ending that feels a little lacklustre. Stronger writing might have given the WTF moments a bit more whammy, too; for instance, we have a moment involving a carefully concealed weapon which is wonderfully absurd, but isn’t really justified dramatically.
These are minor misgivings, though. All things considered, The Ballad of Skinless Pete does pretty much everything a microbudget horror should. It fulfils the exploitation elements, but it also tackles less commonplace subject matter, and – perhaps most refreshing in these neo/pseudo-grindhouse days – it does it all with a fairly straight face, and evokes the spirit of the good ol’ days without putting on affectations of the 80s; no swampy synth tones or fake scratches here. I will say this, though; Mills is in very real danger of becoming the microbudget JJ Abrams with all that lens flare…
The Ballad of Skinless Pete is available on DVD and Blu-Ray from http://dmp.storenvy.com/