On the first night of “Harvest,” basically a witch storm, three brothers, Mike (Shaun Duke Jr.), the oldest, Sal (Andrew Gabriel), the middle child, and Adam (Rene Leech), the youngest, head into the wilderness with their pal Rob (Greg Poppa) to see a witch’s corpse. Nothing good ever happens when your buddy says, “Hey, want to see a dead body?” Add witches into that equation and it’s even worse. They, of course, accidentally desecrate the remains—never give your little brother beer when digging up a witch corpse—and the consequences are dire.
Falling Stars drops you into this world of magic and superstition without much context or explanation. That’s where it’s strongest, when things feel lived in and well worn, where this is just the way it is. They talk about so-and-so who disappeared a few years back, how it starts earlier and earlier every year, and so on. This is all normal. Sure, you might get sucked up into the ether, never to be seen again, but they’re also kind of bored and over it. When Karpala’s script doles out specifics and clarification, it’s less authentic and more stilted, like the movie is sitting you down with a hand on your shoulder and saying, “Okay, here’s what’s going on.”
[Related Reading: 'The Vast of Night' Movie Review]
Just as the world feels lived in, so do the characters and their relationships. The brothers banter like siblings do, and they also know how to needle and push each other’s buttons. Rob and Mike have a settled-in, stepped-on friendship that drips with shared history, which also extends to the other brothers. If you’ve ever had younger siblings who just want to tag along, Rob’s reaction to Sal and Adam rings true. And it’s nice to watch Mike struggle with what he has to do as it confronts him; he ain’t no hero ready to leap into action. Across the board, the actors all sell their characters, which goes a long way to selling the movie.
Working as cinematographer, Bienczycki leans into the sparse desolation of the Mojave Desert and the empty expansive swaths of rural San Bernardino County. Wide shots of barren spaces, paintbrush skies over rugged landscapes, and soaring frames that show the vastness drive home the isolation and the sense of the supernatural. It’s honestly little more than a few dudes traipsing around the wilderness with flashlights, but it never feels small, there’s a minimalist grandeur.
Never the most propulsive film, the momentum falters a few times, most notably in two key instances late in the game. Sprinkled throughout are cut-ins to a radio show with host Barry (J. Aaron Boykin) and producer Elana (Samantha Turret). These moments typically provide clunky exposition, but near the end, there’s an extended incident in the studio that harps on the same point over and over. It’s tedious and feels like space filler. The second is while driving to the climax, they see a hitchhiker and pull over. He may as well have on a tin foil hat, spouts some kooky, semi-witchy nonsense, and they drive away. It’s tonally at odds with the tone of the entire rest of the movie, derails the pace, and rings entirely false like nothing else in the picture.
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Falling Stars seems destined to evoke The Vast of Night, and from my perspective, that’s an apt comparison. Both are lo-fi genre fare that get inventive with limited resources; both lean heavily on vibes, mood, and tone; and both are gorgeously rendered despite small budgets. Each offers a fresh, intriguing take on a familiar cinematic topic, folk horror, witches, and the supernatural in this case, and show tons of potential from young filmmakers and largely unknown casts. And both do almost nothing for me in remarkably similar ways.
There’s so much to admire and appreciate here, but Falling Stars ultimately leaves me cold. I suspect I’m going to be on an island here, as with Vast of Night, but I legitimately believe that if you’ve seen the earlier film, how you respond to that, pro or con, will likely inform how you will receive this one.
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