A grisly genre mashup of heist and exploitation, The Price We Pay doles out punishment in heavy doses once you let it build up steam. As ominous and brutal as promised, the story is split in two with a heavy turn into some extreme gore and memorable images, helped along by strong performances from a fierce and gritty Stephen Dorff and an unhinged Emile Hirsch. It’s directed by Ryuhei Kitamura of Midnight Meat Train fame, who helped write this piece alongside Christopher Jolley—if you’ve seen Kitamura’s previous films, then you may be aware just what levels of depravity our director can reach. Part slow burning crime, part explosive bloody survival, this film changes tones on a dime and measures different levels of human wickedness with some level of success—though at times its exploitative features steal the show from what I hoped would come to be a more concrete storyline.
We begin with the brief sounds of radio discussing a sheriff’s manhunt. The occupants of the car however, a man and a prostitute, aren’t interested. The man won’t be seen anywhere near his home town with a working girl, and drops her forcefully at what appears to be an abandoned gas station. In the restroom, she finds that the place is not so abandoned after all, spotting a pair of dirty boots creeping outside of her stall as she arms herself for an encounter. When the intruder seems to leave, she tries to flee, only to be blinded and quickly hauled away by the same pair of menacing boots. We shift into a new scene, to a parking lot, where Grace (Gigi Zumbado), is having one last sip of liquid courage before heading into a pawn shop. Nervously, she heads to the back where it appears she’s a regular, and meets with a sleazy, sweaty man who informs her she’s four weeks behind on “payments”, panting at how she might settle her debt. Unimpressed by her offers to pay up, the shop owner turns up his advances, all the while not noticing on the security monitors what Grace is seeing: a robbery in progress, quickly shifting this movie into heist gear.
The store owner is alerted to the masked men taking over the store: confronting them, he wounds one but is immediately killed. Grace hides as another employee is rounded up to get the loot; he is also quickly killed. This enrages one of the men as this has turned from robbery to multiple homicide: not good for news coverage. Grace sees an opportunity to escape, but alerts the men who see an opportunity to catch a getaway ride, seeing as theirs abandoned them. Officially under the group’s control, Grace is on a road trip to hell, and if she wants to live, she must obey. The trip goes smoothly enough with the men discussing a getaway plan and their hostage. The two brains of the operation appear to be Cody (Stephen Dorff) an older man, former military, focused on practicality, contrasted with the more often loose cannon Alex (Emile Hirsch), who is concerned with the moving pieces of the heist and his own personal games within it.
The car’s engine suddenly fails as Cody is starting to pry at Grace, stranding the group in the desert after dark. Alex and Cody debate the merits of killing Grace, with Cody asserting her as leverage as he “doesn’t do civilians” and Alex happily saying she’s Cody’s baggage now. Now on foot, the group and their injured member Shane (Tanner Zagarino) crawl along the road until they come across a farm. Cody calls for no bloodshed and tells his two accomplices to wait outside, bringing Grace as cover as he approaches a young farmhand. Taken aback initially, but reassured by Grace leaning into her role as the helpful hostage, the two manage to secure a farmhouse from the boy to stay in while they supposedly wait for their ride. They can’t imagine what twisted playground they’ve made their hiding place.
Performances are all fairly strong, but even an eccentric, masochistic Emile Hirsch with Dorff as his opposing force of measured grit can’t draw focus from the over the top second half of this movie. Dorff does get to show some range, from torturously painful scenes to triumphant blows being thrown, but the violence is the star. A slow start designed like most heist movies, the beginning half of this film doesn’t offer much originality in terms of its story, just a well-rounded set of performances, save the unfortunate exception of the main antagonist who often talks himself into the cliché. It’s also that all too familiar “don’t open that door” setup of the farmhouse no one would ever want to stop at.
The lazy start that turns into an absolute frenzy seems to be an homage to every farm movie gone wrong from X to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre with decidedly enough blood, but far less substance. Effects from a simple bullet wound to creative, explosive kills pass as teeth-grindingly realistic or shockingly campy splatter, and the gore and its extravagance is the main focal point after the heist game fades into memory. The practical effects are horribly effectual, and even I was disturbed by some of the torment and cruelty that takes place. However, this is billed as a blood chilling exploitation film, and no doubt it uses its cast as objects of depraved violence, risking overshadowing everything and swallowing any semblance of a storyline, boiling it down to a bloody slasher formula with the benefit of some creative kills. I suppose, though, that may be the point with this form of sensory overload.
Dark from beginning to end and offering as much torturous violence as you can spread amongst a group of people, The Price We Pay is a hefty one for those involved. This doesn’t offer up much originality in the way of story, but gore hounds may appreciate some of the agonizingly long scenes of gruesome mayhem and some uncommon, shocking deaths, perhaps some of the most original material in the film. Style certainly takes place over substance in this piece, but I appreciate what the actors are able to do with the material and I was able to wince through the violence I somehow took head on in Kitamura’s other contributions. An offering of blood, pain, and abuse, expect to be amazed by the effects team and the traumatic events they create. Exploitative indeed, there is no safe place when this film takes its dark turn, and whatever price is paid, it may be too steep for me; but perhaps some more sturdy, unshakable viewers can ante up.
The Price We Pay (2022) will be released digitally in the UK from 16th October.