This is an updated version of a review that was originally published in Bleeding Skull! A 1990s Trash-Horror Odyssey.
Sometimes, all you need out of life is to see a dummy filled with ground beef get run over by a car.
A vampire named Liven attacks some customers in a convenience store. He looks like a thrift store version of Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys, complete with black trench coat and feathery blonde mullet. Liven rips out some throats, steals a Corvette, and drives away. Meanwhile, Greg and his friends are driving a Ford Windstar minivan to a metal concert that we don’t get to see. I borrowed my parents’ Windstar for my senior prom and accidently drove it over a cement median. After that, the front passenger door wouldn’t close properly and I never told my parents why. Mom and Dad, if you’re reading this—sorry!
Liven and his undead followers attempt to take over Greg’s town. But Greg’s like, fuck it! This is my city! So, we get a 70-minute gore war that’s filled with face removals, hit-and-run car crashes, and an unsafe chainsaw duel between dudes wearing friendship bracelets.
Watching Darkness is like getting hit in the face with a water balloon that’s filled with strawberry Kool-Aid—it hurts a little, but tastes pretty good. Shot on Super 8 in Wichita, Kansas, by 18-year-old Leif Jonker, the movie is unapologetic in its refusal of basic movie protocols like plot, structure, and lighting. This is simply a string of ultra-violent sequences that are loosely held together by Levin’s quest to take over the world. Between all of that, the movie focuses on blown-out sunsets with chirping cicadas, dozens of victims running through the streets, and tours of Midwest ranch-style homes. But the mundane aspects and lack of story rarely make us feel like we’re missing out.
Like J.R. Bookwalter’s The Dead Next Door, Darkness is an ethereal Super 8 gore movie that was made by mini-adults with a sincere love for the horror genre. But where The Dead Next Door felt like it was made by the coolest nerds on the planet, Darkness belongs to the burnouts. There are no in-jokes about Evil Dead II in this movie. Instead, Jonker gives us John Carpenter-esque synthesizer stabs, monologues about the end of the world delivered by vampires with pitch-shifted voices, and relentlessly satisfying scenes of exploding heads. The tone is nihilistic, but sweet. Everyone is clearly having fun, even when they’re staring at their shoelaces while waiting for something to happen.
Darkness isn’t a deranged masterpiece. You don’t need to drop everything and watch it right now. But the movie’s infectious energy made me smile. That goes a long way.
