Even though 1991’s The Silence Of The Lambs remains one of the highest regarded Psychological/Thrillers of all time, I still don’t think it ever gets enough credit over its slow and deliberate examination of evil.
I say this as one who isn’t exactly that production’s biggest fans. (I love it, but it isn’t a film I worship.) Like any story, the beauty remains in the eyes of the beholders; and Silence – while sometimes criticized for reveling in excesses – still manages to craft some of the genre’s most compelling characters. Yes, Hannibal Lecter is indeed a sight to behold; but that Buffalo Bill is no slouch, either. Added to that mix (and almost always overlooked) is a nifty little bit of work by actor Anthony Heald: his Dr. Chilton goes to great lengths to manipulate Lecter (and, likely, all of his subjects) to maximize the rewards available on his own career path. There’s even more, but I’ll leave it at this because I firmly believe my point has been made: Silence pulls back as many layers as possible in order to assure audiences that evil exists in countless ways.
To it’s credit, 2024’s Dead Mail felt like a production that was drawn from the same narrative cloth. Written and directed by the team of Joe DeBoer and Kyle McGonaghy, it’s a vastly smaller and quieter experience, so much so that it may not ultimately get the level of exposure I think it deserves. Some of this is owed to the way in which the storytellers travel from the start to the big finish: there are no signature sequences that I think anyone could critically champion. What matters in its final reel is that evil might even – uncharacteristically so – willingly remove itself from the equation as a way to achieve the only lasting peace possible. That’s a surprisingly mature message when the film is stacked up against similar fare; and – dare I say? – many will find it anticlimactic.
Me?
Well, I’ll tell you what I think below.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An ominous help note finds its way to a 1980s post office, connecting a dead letter investigator to a kidnapped keyboard technician.”
I say this as one who isn’t exactly that production’s biggest fans. (I love it, but it isn’t a film I worship.) Like any story, the beauty remains in the eyes of the beholders; and Silence – while sometimes criticized for reveling in excesses – still manages to craft some of the genre’s most compelling characters. Yes, Hannibal Lecter is indeed a sight to behold; but that Buffalo Bill is no slouch, either. Added to that mix (and almost always overlooked) is a nifty little bit of work by actor Anthony Heald: his Dr. Chilton goes to great lengths to manipulate Lecter (and, likely, all of his subjects) to maximize the rewards available on his own career path. There’s even more, but I’ll leave it at this because I firmly believe my point has been made: Silence pulls back as many layers as possible in order to assure audiences that evil exists in countless ways.
To it’s credit, 2024’s Dead Mail felt like a production that was drawn from the same narrative cloth. Written and directed by the team of Joe DeBoer and Kyle McGonaghy, it’s a vastly smaller and quieter experience, so much so that it may not ultimately get the level of exposure I think it deserves. Some of this is owed to the way in which the storytellers travel from the start to the big finish: there are no signature sequences that I think anyone could critically champion. What matters in its final reel is that evil might even – uncharacteristically so – willingly remove itself from the equation as a way to achieve the only lasting peace possible. That’s a surprisingly mature message when the film is stacked up against similar fare; and – dare I say? – many will find it anticlimactic.
Me?
Well, I’ll tell you what I think below.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An ominous help note finds its way to a 1980s post office, connecting a dead letter investigator to a kidnapped keyboard technician.”
Character studies – especially those involving evil persons – are not easy to pull off effectively.
Chiefly, much of this is owed to the fact that far too many storytellers take the easy way out, preferring to use that old rule of “show, don’t tell.” One potentially fatal flaw surrounding this tactic is how can you tacitly display something that may’ve happened in the distant past while keeping a modern, contemporary tale moving forward? Too many shows resort to the endless series of flashbacks in order to convey a madman’s growing fissures; and – despite some great attempts – they risk confusing viewers by dragging them unnecessarily through multiple time periods when perhaps the oldest and simplest tactic would be just to let the villain speak. If he speaks loudly enough, clearly enough, and intelligently enough, then he can convey far more than an endless parade of images. He can very capably show us his own personal face of evil by using the right words and showing us some facial expressions. It’s called “acting,” and it is the definitive way to “show and tell.”
For me, this is why a performance like that of John Fleck works so well in Dead Mail.
Some of it is the way he delivers the lines of dialogue as scripted pretty brilliantly by DeBoer and McConaghy. Over the course of these 100+ minutes, he’s given small snippets that run the gamut of emotions, from joy to despair with a curious amount of angst cropping up in some delightful ways; and the actor really gives a masterclass performance in psychological restraint when tasked with some progressive emotional reveals. More of it, I think, is how he carries the weight of his character – the fictitious would-be serial killer Trent Whittington – as he moves between the various phases of this short existence, sometimes proud like a mother hen and other times as if the disciplinarian inside knows some of what he’s doing just ain’t kosher. There’s a great degree of nuance into making this gripping and believable – more often it gets overplayed – but Fleck – arguably not household commodity – should receive some praise for getting this one in the can.
Essentially, Dead Mail is more of an unconventional abduction story, one that probably owes a great deal of its effectiveness to being set in the past wherein cell phones and security cameras weren’t as commonplace as they are today.
Structurally, it kinda/sorta bobs and weaves a bit, shifting the focus from what you believe might be the central character – the and introspective postal do-gooder Jasper Lawrence who remains steadfastly committed to seeing lost mail delivered to the intended recipients – onto Whittington’s shoulders after a protracted set-up. Even once we’re introduced to this somber music aficionado, the tale shifts gears yet again as Trent goes from good to evil – not a long journey but a necessary one – leaving viewers to wonder whether or not this is something the lonely soul has done before. Of course, the mythmakers aren’t quite done yet as the last twenty-plus minutes take on yet even another viewpoint – the one that matters most for resolution’s sake – and I predict there will be some who might check out before the closing scenes. (Big mistake, if you ask me …)
Chiefly, much of this is owed to the fact that far too many storytellers take the easy way out, preferring to use that old rule of “show, don’t tell.” One potentially fatal flaw surrounding this tactic is how can you tacitly display something that may’ve happened in the distant past while keeping a modern, contemporary tale moving forward? Too many shows resort to the endless series of flashbacks in order to convey a madman’s growing fissures; and – despite some great attempts – they risk confusing viewers by dragging them unnecessarily through multiple time periods when perhaps the oldest and simplest tactic would be just to let the villain speak. If he speaks loudly enough, clearly enough, and intelligently enough, then he can convey far more than an endless parade of images. He can very capably show us his own personal face of evil by using the right words and showing us some facial expressions. It’s called “acting,” and it is the definitive way to “show and tell.”
For me, this is why a performance like that of John Fleck works so well in Dead Mail.
Some of it is the way he delivers the lines of dialogue as scripted pretty brilliantly by DeBoer and McConaghy. Over the course of these 100+ minutes, he’s given small snippets that run the gamut of emotions, from joy to despair with a curious amount of angst cropping up in some delightful ways; and the actor really gives a masterclass performance in psychological restraint when tasked with some progressive emotional reveals. More of it, I think, is how he carries the weight of his character – the fictitious would-be serial killer Trent Whittington – as he moves between the various phases of this short existence, sometimes proud like a mother hen and other times as if the disciplinarian inside knows some of what he’s doing just ain’t kosher. There’s a great degree of nuance into making this gripping and believable – more often it gets overplayed – but Fleck – arguably not household commodity – should receive some praise for getting this one in the can.
Essentially, Dead Mail is more of an unconventional abduction story, one that probably owes a great deal of its effectiveness to being set in the past wherein cell phones and security cameras weren’t as commonplace as they are today.
Structurally, it kinda/sorta bobs and weaves a bit, shifting the focus from what you believe might be the central character – the and introspective postal do-gooder Jasper Lawrence who remains steadfastly committed to seeing lost mail delivered to the intended recipients – onto Whittington’s shoulders after a protracted set-up. Even once we’re introduced to this somber music aficionado, the tale shifts gears yet again as Trent goes from good to evil – not a long journey but a necessary one – leaving viewers to wonder whether or not this is something the lonely soul has done before. Of course, the mythmakers aren’t quite done yet as the last twenty-plus minutes take on yet even another viewpoint – the one that matters most for resolution’s sake – and I predict there will be some who might check out before the closing scenes. (Big mistake, if you ask me …)
Aesthetically, DeBoer and McConaghy go to great lengths to give depth to these times and places, draping the look in a layer of grain and aural distortion (at times) to suggest not so much an idyllic, far-off possibility so much as it is a nightmare that could take place, why, in that quiet space your quirky neighbor lets you in to see. The days of the synthesizer have mostly come and gone; but the filmmakers use the instrument’s emergence as a construct showing that realness can be achieved only at great risk. Riches might await those who effectively reproduce a particular tone; and, yet, what we’re losing in such technological progress might be more than the gifts of musicians who play authentically. We might be risking our own immortal soul … and for what? A sound? Or is it a sound that stirs the soul? That’s a big question worth being asked, but the answer might be too big for words to convey.
Lastly, I feel required to encourage viewers to sit tight through the film’s end credits as there is a bit more to the story. Rather than witness the set-up for the next installment in the ever-growing Marvel Movie Universe (will that series never end?), you’re instead treated to the who, what, when, where, and why of these few characters so that you don’t leave the flick without knowing their true resolutions. Rest assured: I’ve read online that none of this is real – this is not a docudrama but instead an experience created to give that feel – but it’ll have you wondering otherwise. A fitting wrap-up to a winning portrait of madness.
Dead Mail (2024) was produced by Alarmist Entertainment, Contact Light Films, and Spooky Pictures. According to a quick Google.com search, the film will have its original release to the masses-at-large on Shudder effective April 18th, 2025. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I still found the provided sights-and-sounds quite exceptional. The directors use a bit of video trickery here and there to give it this grainy, dated appearance; and it works very well in crafted the atmosphere I think they wanted for the piece. Nice choice. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, I viewed the film via private access streaming; and there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
In all honesty, Dead Mail (2024) requires a good degree of patience. It’s an exceedingly slow-burning Horror/Mystery that changes perspectives more than once; and I suspect casual viewers might give up on its goodness before the midpoint where Trent Whittington’s motivations are finally laid bare. (Mind you: methinks even that disclosure is subject to a bit of interpretation, but I refuse to spoil it.) Those willing to wait for answers should be pleased. Those unwilling? Well, there’s always something else to binge on Prime Video or Netflix … but good luck finding something this interesting, this character-centric, and this downright creepy.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with complimentary streaming access to Dead Mail (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Lastly, I feel required to encourage viewers to sit tight through the film’s end credits as there is a bit more to the story. Rather than witness the set-up for the next installment in the ever-growing Marvel Movie Universe (will that series never end?), you’re instead treated to the who, what, when, where, and why of these few characters so that you don’t leave the flick without knowing their true resolutions. Rest assured: I’ve read online that none of this is real – this is not a docudrama but instead an experience created to give that feel – but it’ll have you wondering otherwise. A fitting wrap-up to a winning portrait of madness.
Dead Mail (2024) was produced by Alarmist Entertainment, Contact Light Films, and Spooky Pictures. According to a quick Google.com search, the film will have its original release to the masses-at-large on Shudder effective April 18th, 2025. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I still found the provided sights-and-sounds quite exceptional. The directors use a bit of video trickery here and there to give it this grainy, dated appearance; and it works very well in crafted the atmosphere I think they wanted for the piece. Nice choice. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, I viewed the film via private access streaming; and there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
In all honesty, Dead Mail (2024) requires a good degree of patience. It’s an exceedingly slow-burning Horror/Mystery that changes perspectives more than once; and I suspect casual viewers might give up on its goodness before the midpoint where Trent Whittington’s motivations are finally laid bare. (Mind you: methinks even that disclosure is subject to a bit of interpretation, but I refuse to spoil it.) Those willing to wait for answers should be pleased. Those unwilling? Well, there’s always something else to binge on Prime Video or Netflix … but good luck finding something this interesting, this character-centric, and this downright creepy.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with complimentary streaming access to Dead Mail (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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