It seems like every year at the Sundance Film Festival, there's that one horror film that gets all the buzz. Last year, it was We Are What We Are. This indie horror is a slow burn in the tradition of Rosemary's Baby and that in itself is quite refreshing. The Parkers are a deeply religious family. Their faith can be traced back for centuries to early settlers in the American West. They believe in family, tradition, and independence. No one may ever see a doctor and the children are discouraged from interacting with the outside world. Everything changes when mother Emma faces a sudden medical emergency and drowns in a storm. It's up to oldest daughter Iris to carry out the family traditions that has kept the Parkers healthy and strong for centuries.
Writer/director Jim Mickle (best known for the stunning vampire dystopian film Stake Land) and screenwriter Nick Damici adapt Jorge Michel Grau's original screenplay into a very intriguing suspense story. Frankly, the biggest downfall in storytelling is Netflix spoiling the big reveal at the midway point of the film in their movie summary. Had I not known what was coming, I would have never guessed the story was headed in that direction at all.
The cast is excellent. Top of the list is Julia Garner as Rose, the second oldest daughter. Her character arc is incredible and she does not miss a moment to wring tragedy and pathos out of a story concept that could be schlocky exploitation. Ambyr Childers is strong as oldest daughter Rose, struggling under the responsibilities of a ghastly ritual in the name of faith and tradition. Bill Sage is appropriately stern and unnerving as father Frank and Kassie Wesley DePaiva leaves a memorable impression as short-lived mother Emma.
Elisabeth Vastola's costume designs have to be singled out for praise. She puts the Parker daughters in dresses that make Margaret White look like the town floozy. The woefully outdated necklines, crackling lace, and mid-shin hemlines do more to unnerve the viewer than any amount of gore ever could. The contrast with the rest of the community is immediately clear even in the Parkers' street clothes, further isolating the family from mainstream society. The young actors are clearly uncomfortable in the costumes and use it to paint a far more disturbing portrait of the family dynamics.
In the end, We Are What We Are does push the boundaries just a bit too much. It's not horror we haven't seen on the screen before, but it's crass and broad in a way that seems totally out of place compared to the far more subtle hand at play before. It's a brief escape into absurdity that can, mercifully, be read as a symbolic act and treated almost like a fantasy sequence for catharsis. If it went on a moment longer, it would tank We Are What We Are the same way the dark woods chase/battle sequence torpedoed Splice in its final moments.
Fans of Southern Gothic and psychological horror should not miss We Are What We Are. It is refreshingly underplayed and muted in most of its decisions, but never boring. Jim Mickle has a skillful eye for foreshadowing through minutia rarely seen in modern horror that should be as common as the survivor girl. Why ignore the tools that work in favor of senseless gore?