This is an updated version of an earlier review.
The Frankenstein story has been adapted, tweaked, and tinkered with countless times across every medium. With Depraved legendary filmmaker Larry Fessenden gives the tale a lo-fi indie horror spin, though it’s more concerned with Brooklyn hipsters dealing with trauma than typical genre trappings.
The Frankenstein story has been adapted, tweaked, and tinkered with countless times across every medium. With Depraved legendary filmmaker Larry Fessenden gives the tale a lo-fi indie horror spin, though it’s more concerned with Brooklyn hipsters dealing with trauma than typical genre trappings.
Henry (David Call), a recently discharged military field
surgeon coping with PTSD, and his pharma-bro, Polidori (Joshua Leonard),
construct and reanimate a man, Adam (Alex Breaux), in Henry’s New York loft. That’s
the beginning, but it all happens within the first few minutes.
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Depraved’s primary concerns are the
pseudo father/son relationship between Henry and Adam, dealing with lingering
damage from our pasts, innocence corrupted, and ideas like playing god and the
notion of just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. This is
embodied by scenes where Henry teaches Adam how to play ping-pong, they talk
about girls, and both try to adjust to a new normal. For the most part, the
film watches like a mumble-heavy indie drama, but one of the key players
happens to be resurrected corpse stitched together from rando body parts.
While it has intriguing portions, primarily the early going
between Henry and Adam, Depraved muddles about in the
middle. To be honest, when Polidori finally comes into the action and becomes a
key part, it takes a nosedive. Henry’s motivations make sense and Call gives
him a grounded, relatable pathos. He damaged but can’t admit he has a problem
and needs help, and this is his way of fixing the things he couldn’t fix on the
battlefield. The same goes for Adam, who begins with a childlike sense of
wonder and guiltlessness, learning the ways of the world while being haunted by
the memories of the owner of his donor brain. Breaux plays the creation with a
sense of naïveté and longing that approaches heartbreaking.
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But Polidori makes no damn sense, to a distraction. He’s
supposed to be relatively high up in a pharmaceutical company, but mostly he’s
just a coked-out party bro. When he first meets Adam it’s with a sense of awe,
then he’s immediately like, let’s take him to a strip club to see if his dick
works and fill him with hallucinogens, woo! His whole plan is, he has this
great new drug, but development takes too long, so he’s going to skip the line,
perform unlicensed human trials, and everyone will be so wowed by the results,
they’ll ignore the rules, regulations, and ethical oversights, and approve his
wonder pill. And it’s not that he’s super desperate and this is his last
chance, he barely seems to care, thinks this will actually work and not explode
in his face, and is more interested in driving a wedge between Henry and Adam
than the science of it all. It feels written by someone with little practical
understanding of this industry, and Polidori plays less realistic than the reanimated corpse.
As a writer, director, actor, producer, cinematographer,
editor, and general jack of every trade, Fessenden has been, and continues to
be, hugely influential on independent cinema for years. He’s especially
championed indie horror, mentoring a number of young up-and-coming
filmmakers—executive producers on Depraved include
mumble-core mainstay Joe Swanberg and The Ranger director
Jess Wexler, among others.
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The first half hour flies by, offering an off-kilter indie take
on the Frankenstein myth. While Depraved starts strong, poses
curious ideas and themes, and has a handful of creepy aesthetic quirks, it founders in
the back half. And, especially at almost two-hours long, it never rights itself.
[Grade: C]
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