Wednesday, September 25, 2024

'The Draft!' (2023) Movie Review

a bunch of teens in the woods
Stop me if you’ve heard this. Five college friends—an alpha male, an outdoorsy type, a tomboy, a hot girl, and a nerd. A spooky, remote cabin in the woods. (Actually, a spooky, remote Dutch villa in an Indonesian jungle, but the idea is the same.) A cemetery. A well. An old caretaker. No cell service. No power. Things get weird and people start dying. That’s customary horror fare. But from this basic framework, The Draft director Yusron Fuadi tweaks the formula in clever, inventive ways and crafts a fun, fresh take on what the movie calls “cheap Indonesian horror films,” and the oft-repeated tropes of the genre across national boundaries.

 

You’ve seen “we’re in a horror movie” movies before, but what about a “we’re in a draft of a horror movie script” movie? That’s the general conceit The Draft gets to eventually and though it’s a big, wide swing, one with a few structural issues, the finished product has more hits than misses. The most convenient comparison point is the meta-horror of a film like One Cut of the Dead in the way that it pivots part way through and becomes something unexpected, though it has its own unique perspective. 

 

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The first chunk of the movie rigidly adheres to the cabin in the woods horror formula. Ani (Putri Anggie), Budi (Haydar Salishz), Iwan (Abhin Abdul Hakim), Wati (Anastasia Herzigova), and Amir (Winner Wijaya) go to the Ani’s family’s villa where things happen exactly as they happen in such yarns. It’s all very Evil Dead, including a few overt references, and all intentionally familiar and rote. That’s the point, but it’s also a problem. When the meat of the movie really kicks in, it subverts the expectations that come with this set up and dissects the many overused horror tricks and beats. But it takes more than 30 minutes, in a movie that’s barely 80, to get there. 

 

When The Draft works best, it offers up a cunning, adroit dismantling of the writing process. The lighting changes as a scene is revised, changing from day to night. Continuity errors and plot holes leave the characters scratching their heads like the audience, entire sequences get torn up or rewritten, there’s even a recasting midstream. The script writes itself into corners and tries to find ways out. It ups the stakes and inserts new flourishes to create tension. Like writing itself, it’s full of stops and starts, ideas that don’t pan out, and changes in direction. It'll all be maddeningly recognizable to anyone who’s ever tried their hand at narrative craft. It even gets intentionally “lazy,” where easy things happen just because it’s convenient—one character opines, “The script is getting worse.” 

 

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The Draft also offers an intriguing way to approach character. They’re thin by design, nothing more than a description, almost literal blanks. But the film shows us who they are by how they act and react, not by what we’re told. Wati laments that all she remembers of her past is that her family was troubled and she’s really sad, and in that moment, Herzigova radiates actual sadness at this realization, and it’s heart wrenching. They have a difficult task, playing both stock types and trying to create a personality, but for the most part, the actors deftly toe the line between the minimal characterization on “the page” and fleshed out human emotion.

 

When still presenting as a more standard horror picture, Fuadi and cinematographer Mandella Majid take pains to place the viewer in the thick of things. Aside from swooping drone shots that soar above the wilderness canopy, most of the action is filmed from eye level with a handheld camera. We’re not talking full verite or the shaky-cam action style, but it positions the image as if we the viewer are there, as if we are another character. It goes a long way to creating immediacy that sells the purposefully typical plot, at least enough that we’re mostly engaged.

 

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For all the ingenious strokes, not everything works. You throw this much at the wall, it doesn’t all stick. Certain bits run out of steam. The initial explanation when the characters recognize the truth of their situation gets long-winded. Any number of interesting ideas and meaty themes are raised and teased but left unexplored, and attempts to bring the external “writer” into the foreground absolutely flop.

 

The Draft is a bit slight and thin in places, but that shouldn’t detract from everything it does achieve. It’s an involving, resourceful, often inspired feat of narrative gymnastics and a clever deconstruction of the most recognizable and overused horror platitudes.

 

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