By Nia Edwards-Behi
Ghoul is a frustrating film. It’s a superior ‘found footage’ film, no doubt, but for all its strengths, it ultimately unravels, falling over its own generic trappings, and, sadly, its central conceit. Having said that, the film did creep me out, and I could happily sit through it again.
The film opens with archival documentary footage of the 1932 Ukrainian famine, known as Holodomor. The stark black and white footage verges on the Eisensteinian, but it’s not long before the film starts proper, in faux-documentary mode. We establish that group of Americans have travelled to the Ukraine to film a documentary on cannibalism and the famine. They meet a guide and an interpreter, and press on with their journey. They are heading to a remote house, where they will meet Boris, one of the last survivors of the famine, who had been accused and imprisoned for cannibalism. When Boris does not show up at the house, the crew discover there is much worse waiting for them there – namely, the disturbed spirit of serial killer Andrei Chikatilo.
It takes a long while before the film gets to Chikatilo, and it’s at its strongest before his name is mentioned. The very early footage is excellent, and I can only presume it was genuinely shot as though a documentary was being made. Our cast speaks to rural Ukrainians against stark backdrops, and it’s fascinating in and of itself. The dialogue and characters in the film are one of its strongest points, in that they are natural, and for the most part likeable. Sometimes they say things that are a little bit insensitive about the topic of their investigation, but sometimes they realise and take it back. Two of the crew are a couple, but that fact isn’t shoved down our throats like it could have been. As always, and perhaps more so with found footage, hoping that our cast survives the film is pretty crucial. In-line with this, the performances in the film are also good, particularly Jennifer Armour (Jenny) and Alina Golovlyova (Katarina), though admittedly they are given more to do than their male counterparts.
The use of a translator is, again for the most part, effective. Katarina doesn’t translate everything the crew’s guides have to say – particularly the ‘witch’ Ina. However, for all the role’s effectiveness, it does highlight some of the more illogical editing decisions in the film. Sometimes, Katarina translates. Sometimes, there are subtitles. No framework is offered for the footage we watch – is it raw, found footage from the filmmakers? Is it an edited version of the found footage? Or, are we simply seeing through their lenses as it happens? The use of cameras in the moment is natural, but the actual construction of the film makes less sense (particularly, we discover, at the film’s close). I know this is often a big gripe for some people when it comes to found footage films, but for me it didn’t completely detract from what was otherwise a decently put together film.
The scares in the film are impressively under-stated, at least early on. A prime example of this is a cat being found in a box, sitting calmly rather than jumping at the camera. This struck me as a particular comment on the ‘animal jumps from behind/inside something’ trope that so often plagues modern horror, but of course I might be reading a bit much into it. There is gore, but it’s used judiciously, and all the more effective for it. Now, by the film’s end, this is not so true – there’s a bit too much running-around-and-things-go-boo-to-camera. This is frustrating, more than anything, and smacks a bit of just plain not knowing how to end the film, and so we have an expected, generic ending – it all ends up a bit Blair Witch meets REC, and not in a good way; the very last shot of the film is particularly groan-inducing. The film is quite Blair Witchy, in some ways, but with infinitely more likeable characters.
Which leads me to the most contentious thing, for me, about the film – that man Chikatilo. It’s all a bit ham-fisted (forgive me), even if the linking of a Soviet war crime which resulted in cannibalism with a Soviet cannibal serial killer makes, I suppose, some sense. It’s just a bit unnecessary. The ‘Boris’ character that the crew believes they are going to meet is enough, and any variation on a made up ghost to provide the supernatural element would have been enough. It also seems to underplay how widely-known Chikatilo is, with some awkward ‘let’s Google this guy’ moments – of course, I suppose horror fans might be more likely to recognise the name of an infamous serial killer than most…but let’s leave that discussion for another time. I suppose the Chikatilo element of the film could have in fact been much more over-played than it is – I just wish it wasn’t there at all. The film’s ending is, for example, quite brutal, but for me the association with Chikatilo actually somewhat cheapened the violence.
Ghoul has broken box office records in director Jakl’s native Czech Republic, and it’s easy to see why. It’s effective and accessible, in a Blumhouse sort of way, and I genuinely don’t mean that as a criticism. I enjoyed watching the film well enough, and there were plenty of instances where I found myself wanting a cushion to hide behind. The film ultimately just left me thinking that there was an even better film to be had in there.
Ghoul is on theatrical release in the US now, via Vega Baby Releasing.