(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:
“Magpie lives in an isolated church community ruled over by her father, The Pastor. When a man is murdered, paranoia sets in, and people start to whisper about a strange 'Beast' that lives in the forest.”
The downside to knowing the definition of Folk Horror is that once you’re truly aware of it and how it works then you begin to see its possibilities in practically every chiller.
Of course, there are advantages and disadvantages to such things. For example, knowing that Folk Horrors tend to monopolize their focus on rural and/or backwoods settings incorporating a fair share of local superstitions and folklore kinda/sorta diminishes the eventual reveal of the story’s true Evil: there’s no way to not anticipate its arrival when the pieces are so cleanly laid out on the theatrical board. On the other hand, the more creative storytellers might be using this construct as a distraction, setting the viewers up for a sleight of hand by substituting B for A. Film as a medium tends to be imperfect anyway, so I suspect all of us should be thankful for small favors if and when we can find them … and, yet, there’s a solid undercurrent of predictableness that kills even the most efficient outing – like The Severed Sun (2024) – from truly boiling into a head of steam. It doesn’t fizzle, but it only percolates as needed.
At the insistence of her oppressive father (simply called ‘the Pastor’ as played by Toby Stephens), Magpie (Emma Appleton) finds herself in an abusive relationship married to Howard (Eoin Slattery). Mind you, the audience never sees what the young woman suffers – in fact, the flick opens with Magpie’s voiceover confession to both poisoning her husband so what he’s weak enough to be axed to death (in a staged accident) – and we’re actually given sufficient cause to doubt her character once its revealed that she’s secretly in love with her stepson David (Lewis Gribben). But if we take the lady at her word – or, at least, how she’s been penned for the screen by writer/director Dean Puckett – then it’s entirely plausible she possessed sufficient cause to perform the ghastly deed that she did.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Magpie lives in an isolated church community ruled over by her father, The Pastor. When a man is murdered, paranoia sets in, and people start to whisper about a strange 'Beast' that lives in the forest.”
The downside to knowing the definition of Folk Horror is that once you’re truly aware of it and how it works then you begin to see its possibilities in practically every chiller.
Of course, there are advantages and disadvantages to such things. For example, knowing that Folk Horrors tend to monopolize their focus on rural and/or backwoods settings incorporating a fair share of local superstitions and folklore kinda/sorta diminishes the eventual reveal of the story’s true Evil: there’s no way to not anticipate its arrival when the pieces are so cleanly laid out on the theatrical board. On the other hand, the more creative storytellers might be using this construct as a distraction, setting the viewers up for a sleight of hand by substituting B for A. Film as a medium tends to be imperfect anyway, so I suspect all of us should be thankful for small favors if and when we can find them … and, yet, there’s a solid undercurrent of predictableness that kills even the most efficient outing – like The Severed Sun (2024) – from truly boiling into a head of steam. It doesn’t fizzle, but it only percolates as needed.
At the insistence of her oppressive father (simply called ‘the Pastor’ as played by Toby Stephens), Magpie (Emma Appleton) finds herself in an abusive relationship married to Howard (Eoin Slattery). Mind you, the audience never sees what the young woman suffers – in fact, the flick opens with Magpie’s voiceover confession to both poisoning her husband so what he’s weak enough to be axed to death (in a staged accident) – and we’re actually given sufficient cause to doubt her character once its revealed that she’s secretly in love with her stepson David (Lewis Gribben). But if we take the lady at her word – or, at least, how she’s been penned for the screen by writer/director Dean Puckett – then it’s entirely plausible she possessed sufficient cause to perform the ghastly deed that she did.
As this Sun is set in the somewhat distant past within some agrarian, Amish-style commune or 18th century religious community, the slim band of locals quickly begin to doubt Magpie’s accounting of Howard’s bitter end. In an even stranger turn of events (or is it?), a few of the simpletons suspect the young woman has consorted with some spindly black demon in the privacy of the forest, with one particularly vengeful woman – Andrea Eastchurch (Jodhi May) – actually following Magpie into the woods and witnessing something sexually unnatural taking place on the ground in the wild. Again, though Plunkett provides some visuals of the stated affair, it’s important to keep in mind that what we’re shown is entirely from Andrea’s perspective via flashback, leaving open the chance that perhaps there could be a degree of exaggeration as the two women are entirely at odds throughout the picture.
Melodramas being what they are, Sun gets good use out of these various conflicted relationships, never sparing the chance to even introduce a bit more Drama into what is otherwise a fairly bare-bones existence. The Pastor maintains dictatorial control over his flock, demanding unquestioned obedience to his every ‘wish,’ and this gives Magpie’s rejection of his roles as both ‘father’ and ‘leader’ the kind of narrative focus required to give an otherwise thin affair its spine. Themes of sexual repression – closeted incestuousness rears its head in more ways than one (along with hints of heterosexuality) as well as examining an outdated mentality of wives rather blindly adhering to each and every one of their husbands’ demands – provide this handful of central characters the flavor needed to keep viewers interested when nothing’s going bump in the night. Although Puckett like thought he packed enough in this lean and mean 80-minutes running time, I think a bit more could’ve elevated this to more than just a standard fright.
Sadly, Sun never quite makes the best use of its settings, and I think that somewhat derails what could’ve been a more visually expressive Horror. Its creature is rendered about as plainly as possible – while it’s obviously a CGI critter, it’s mostly forgettable as a nightmare vision – and the frequent glimpses of empty countrywide were just too bare to do anything other than evoke a sense of ‘what am I looking at here?’ Surely, that couldn’t have been Puckett’s intention; and there’s even one scene wherein the Pastor’s house (I believe it was) had an external power line back when (ahem) candles were about all the folks had for a source of interior lighting.
Still, Appleton and Stephens make the most of their shared screen time. Their mismatched father/daughter vibe works exceptionally well – so much so that I’m wishing there were more of it – and there’s little room for doubt that whether one intended to doom the other or not it was bound to happen. That’s what I meant when I said that Folk Horrors a touch too predictable: it’s easy to see this one’s closing coming, and a bit more time spent with the two might’ve given even greater impact to the last scenes.
Melodramas being what they are, Sun gets good use out of these various conflicted relationships, never sparing the chance to even introduce a bit more Drama into what is otherwise a fairly bare-bones existence. The Pastor maintains dictatorial control over his flock, demanding unquestioned obedience to his every ‘wish,’ and this gives Magpie’s rejection of his roles as both ‘father’ and ‘leader’ the kind of narrative focus required to give an otherwise thin affair its spine. Themes of sexual repression – closeted incestuousness rears its head in more ways than one (along with hints of heterosexuality) as well as examining an outdated mentality of wives rather blindly adhering to each and every one of their husbands’ demands – provide this handful of central characters the flavor needed to keep viewers interested when nothing’s going bump in the night. Although Puckett like thought he packed enough in this lean and mean 80-minutes running time, I think a bit more could’ve elevated this to more than just a standard fright.
Sadly, Sun never quite makes the best use of its settings, and I think that somewhat derails what could’ve been a more visually expressive Horror. Its creature is rendered about as plainly as possible – while it’s obviously a CGI critter, it’s mostly forgettable as a nightmare vision – and the frequent glimpses of empty countrywide were just too bare to do anything other than evoke a sense of ‘what am I looking at here?’ Surely, that couldn’t have been Puckett’s intention; and there’s even one scene wherein the Pastor’s house (I believe it was) had an external power line back when (ahem) candles were about all the folks had for a source of interior lighting.
Still, Appleton and Stephens make the most of their shared screen time. Their mismatched father/daughter vibe works exceptionally well – so much so that I’m wishing there were more of it – and there’s little room for doubt that whether one intended to doom the other or not it was bound to happen. That’s what I meant when I said that Folk Horrors a touch too predictable: it’s easy to see this one’s closing coming, and a bit more time spent with the two might’ve given even greater impact to the last scenes.
The Severed Sun (2024) was produced by BBC Film, Bankside Films, British Film Institute (BFI), Creative England, Falmouth University, and a few of participating partners. (A full accounting can be found on IMDB.com.) A quick Google.com search indicates that the picture is presently available on a variety of streaming platforms. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the film looks and sounds fairly good: I’m just no fan of functional cinematography as opposed to more expressive, and this one is very tame. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed the picture via streaming, there were no special features to consider.
Recommended.
The Severed Sun (2024) certainly checks all of the appropriate boxes to be considered a Folk Horror, but Puckett plays this one a bit too safe when there were some clear avenues available to spice it up a bit stylistically. What works best were the moments of father/daughter tension – more than just the Pastor and Magpie’s, incidentally – and the delicacy and fragility of human faults should’ve been given a bit more screen time to help push this one to the top of the hill. Yes, it’s effective, but when the same could be said of hundreds if not thousands of like-minded fare, Sun stuck to cleanly to the middle of the dirt road for my tastes.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Severed Sun (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
Recommended.
The Severed Sun (2024) certainly checks all of the appropriate boxes to be considered a Folk Horror, but Puckett plays this one a bit too safe when there were some clear avenues available to spice it up a bit stylistically. What works best were the moments of father/daughter tension – more than just the Pastor and Magpie’s, incidentally – and the delicacy and fragility of human faults should’ve been given a bit more screen time to help push this one to the top of the hill. Yes, it’s effective, but when the same could be said of hundreds if not thousands of like-minded fare, Sun stuck to cleanly to the middle of the dirt road for my tastes.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Severed Sun (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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