[Film Review] V/H/S/99 (2022)

Last year’s V/H/S/94 breathed new life into the found-footage franchise that had lain dormant since 2014’s poorly received V/H/S: Viral, becoming Shudder’s biggest premiere ever and reigniting the spark that burned in the first two V/H/S movies.

Now, the latest entry V/H/S/99 strips everything back down to a punk-rock basics, gleefully revelling in the grime left over from 94 as a roaring last hurrah of an era where technology was still exciting, where the possibilities were endless, and our day to day lives were not yet totally reliant on clicks, swipes and likes. 99 doesn’t really hit the same heights as 94 (there’s no Raatma, for one) but it’s full-tilt chaos from start to finish, with each segment taking bold swings in a franchise where creativity knows no bounds.

Maggie Levin’s Shredders waste no time in setting the punk-rock tone of 99, promising a ‘rage revolution’ of clumsy chaos that emanates throughout the entire film. Shredders follows Rachel (Jesse LaTourette), Ankur (Keanush Tafreshi), Chris (Dashiell Derrickson) and Kaleb (Jackson Kelly), collectively known as scuzzy skater band R.A.C.K., who document their antics CKY-style, with all the energy of a particularly malevolent MTV show. The gang’s latest attempt to stick it to the man involves breaking into the ravaged ruins of a performance space that was destroyed by a fire three years earlier, and (in true obnoxious teen style) taunt the spirits of Bitch Cat, another punk band who succumbed to the blaze.

Bitch Cat are a highlight of Shredders, and of ’99 in general. Fishnet sleeves and check-print guitar straps are enough to set the nostalgia synapses firing, while a spiky, riot-grrrl-lite soundtrack from singer/songwriter Dresage channels the early aughts spirit of Lunachicks and L7. Needless to say, in a gloriously silly and squishy climax, R.A.C.K learn the hard way not to taunt the spirits of undead rockstars.

The next entry in V/H/S/99’s catalogue of chaos comes from The Strangers: Prey at Night director Johannes Roberts and his hazing horror Suicide Bid. Desperate to be accepted into a sorority clique of popular mean girls, freshman Lily (Ally Ioannides) agrees to take part in a horrific hazing ritual – spending the night buried alive six feet under in a coffin. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the girls taunt Lily with a terrifying urban legend that would have any sane person nope out of there faster than Daniel Kaluuya in a cowboy hat (but hell hath no fury like a teenage girl desperate to be popular).

Suicide Bid might be the most traditionally scary of 99’s efforts, combining the almost universal fears of small spaces and spiders with more outlandish frights once Lily realises that even six feet down in the ground, she’s not alone. There are a couple of moments where the makeup effects border on the ‘Halloween decoration’ side of things, but for many, Suicide Bid’s simplicity and effectiveness of setting will make it the standout segment.

Anyone familiar with musician Flying Lotus’ film work will have some inclination of what they’re in for with V/H/S/99’s third segment. If you’re not familiar with his directorial debut Kuso, then just reading a list of artists that he’s worked with - David Lynch, Tim Heidecker, Zack Fox, Hannibal Buress and Where the Dead Go to Die director Jimmy Screamerclauz to name but a few – should be a good indication of the chaotic nature of his work 

Ozzy’s Dungeon delivers a suitably manic, Adult Swim-style slice of surrealist horror by way of the titular gameshow, complete with inflatable props, tunnels and slides straight out of Hidden Temple. The grand prize? A wish come true from mysterious, magical Ozzy who resides backstage.

When young contestant Donna (Amelia Ann) is injured on-set, her mother (a delightfully unhinged performance Sonya Eddy) seeks revenge by kidnapping the host (Steven Ogg) and forcing him to complete her own obstacle course; before culminating in a tentacled finale that would make John Carpenter proud.

Unlike other V/H/S entries, 99 doesn’t feature a separate frame narrative story, with the segments instead broken up by the home recordings (which are humorous, although not particularly memorable) of one of the characters in the next segment, Tyler MacIntyre’s The Gawkers

The Gawkers continues the long-established V/H/S trope of a group of men (or in this case, boys) watching a woman without her knowledge or consent, most famously in David Bruckner’s short Amateur Night. Hormones raging, a gang of teen boys quickly become obsessed with their beautiful neighbour (Emily Sweet), filming her and eventually installing spyware on her new computer. Unbeknownst to them, the woman harbours a monstrous secret that quickly makes them regret their perverse actions.

The fact that we’ve seen this story before, and done much better, makes The Gawkers the weakest segment in 99. After an impressive string of gnarly practical effects in the previous segments, the CGI used makes for quite a jarring contrast. And while it’s always nice to see a monstrous female get revenge on misogynists, said vengeance comes too late and shows too little to satisfy. 

V/H/S/99 wraps up with To Hell And Back from Vanessa and Joseph Winter, the team behind this year’s Shudder hit Deadstream. Videographers Nate (Archelaus Crisanto) and Troy (Joseph Winter) are tasked with filming a demonic ritual on the eve of Y2K. When the ritual fails, the pair find themselves transported to the barren and torturous wastelands of Hell.

Fans of Deadstream will find similar beats to love in To Hell And Back; a chaotic, distinctly indie energy, wildly creative practical effects and Melanie Stone playing a similarly beastly little role as she did in Deadstream (although for those not enamoured by Deadstream’s charm, To Hell And Back will likely irritate for all the same reasons).  To Hell And Back ends the anthology on a high, as a hugely ambitious and often hilarious addition to the V/H/S family.

Overall, V/H/S/99 is a mixed bag of puke, blood and bile, sitting closer to the top of the franchise ranking than it is to the bottom. The main issue is that there’s not much contrast between segments and, while the V/H/S franchise has never been famed for its subtlety, the continual rampage of similarly styled pieces leads them all to blend together in a frenzied haze. However, an average but enjoyable V/H/S is still better than no V/H/S: and with the recent announcement of V/H/S/85 hot on the heels of 99, it looks like a new entry into the franchise might become something of a yearly tradition for horror fans. As a series that not only allows but encourages unbridled experimentation from some of the most highly regarded horror filmmakers, it’s sure to be a tradition to treasure.

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