From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A group of long-time friends gather for their annual New Year's Eve party, where they exchange anonymous resolutions that have brought excitement and change to their lives in the past. However, this year, a dark resolution - "Kill Someone" - creates chaos when it falls into the hands of a stressed police officer named Jacob who believes it's a threat against him. A series of tragic events unfold, leading to accidental deaths, cover-ups, and escalating tensions among the friends. As the secrets unravel and more deaths occur, the group descends into a chaotic and bloody night, leaving only two survivors. In a desperate bid to save himself, one friend, Roy, is forced to make a chilling decision to secure his own future. The film explores themes of trust, loyalty, and the extreme lengths people may go to when faced with unexpected and deadly circumstances on what was meant to be a night of celebration.”
At what point does friendship begin, and at what point does it end?
For those unawares, New Year’s – as a holiday – has served as the backdrop for a good number of comedies and dramas; but I’ve personally not seen it used entirely as the framework for Horror. Still, the truth therein is that New Year’s Absolution (2024) travels so much ground from start-to-finish here that one could argue what tiny tidbits of authentic Horror are sprinkled so sparingly throughout isn’t anywhere near enough to christen this one ‘authentic’ much less the cause to ring in the new year. The film veers close to the black humor of such Heathers (1989) and maybe even The Wolf Of Wall Street (2013); and yet it never quite commits early enough to its savage dark core to logically prove the assertion of its closing scenes.
Let me explain …
A Rube Goldberg machine is a device – or series of devices – assembled to produce a reasonably simple result in an overly-complicated fashion. On film, this was famously demonstrated in the opening to Robert Zemeckis’ popular Back To The Future (1985): essentially, the great Doc Brown concocted an elaborate series of widgets, pulleys, swings, and levers that – when activated in proper sequence – boils down to filling a bowl of dog food for his lovable pooch Einstein. Now, that same principle – the extravagant yet intricate series of cause/effect exchanges between objects – is applied to people in Absolution; and I’d argue that rarely – RARELY – can the responses of a group of separate thinking people be predicted. Someone truly gifted with magnificent insight might forecast what one or two or maybe even three of his/her best friend’s responses could be; but Absolution would have you believe a mastermind could do it flawlessly with seven.
So if you can believe such a premise could happen, then you’re likely to have a good deal of fun with the flick. If not? Well, then you’ll likely agree with me: it’s all a bit too contrived, a bit too convenient to be taken as real. Clever? Sure! Credible? Meh. Not so much.
A few lifelong friends maintain a tradition of getting together on New Year’s Eve to deposit anonymously written resolutions into a hat from which each will draw and carry out said task in a way to ring in January. Despite the fact that the ritual has had a rough spot in the past, the group continues in the well-wishing spirit in which it all began. However, this New Year’s Eve, someone has slipped in the demand to “kill someone.” So much for the cause of dropping a few pounds, am I right?
Now, I don’t know what kind of company you keep, but at this point a reasonable person – such as myself – would most likely excuse himself or herself and his or her plus-one in order to get the Hell out of Dodge as quickly and painlessly as possible. But as Absolution seems intent on exploring the lifestyles of the young and self-absorbed director Nick Leisure and screenwriter Damion Stephens have their work cut out for themselves. What starts out as a jovial evening party of eight – with one tiny dog as a tagalong as the ninth – winds down bloodily to the ‘last man standing.’ It’s a grim affair, but perhaps it’s all these folks deserve.
Without getting into some vast character discussions here – honestly, the players don’t much matter because they’re drawn from the usual lot of young professionals who fawn over selfish pursuits, and viewers likely know someone in their personal life who kinda/sorta reminds them of these role players – Absolution relies chiefly on its central gimmick: will they or won’t they honor their resolution(s)? Clearly, it’s the reason they’ve been assembled, so I don’t think that inevitable conclusion is ever in doubt. Essentially, all that’s left here is the reveal – who was the mastermind behind this construct and why – and, in fairness, that’s really the only reason to hang on until the bitter end. Like an Agatha Christie whodunnit, these ten little Indians … well, eight, anyway … begin to fall; and screenwriter Stephens’ script has one or two people doing some narrative gymnastics in order to justify (or explain away) how it all took place in order to leave enough wiggle room for an alibi the police might find persuasive.
It’s safe to say that, yes, that one slip of paper set a helluva lot of events in motion, and that alone is plausible. What isn’t so tenable is that its writer knew exactly how the others would react with each successive murder (nothing is that certain in the game of life) or how it might lead to the next bloody exchange. The audience has to suspend their disbelief in order to accept this murderous game of charades playing out as it does.
New Year’s Absolution (2024) was produced by Leisure Films. According to the supplied press materials, the film is available for digital purchase or rental via online platforms such as Amazon Prime Video, Fandango At Home, DISH Network, and DirecTV. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good consistently. Lastly, if you’re interested in special features? Since I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features to consider.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
New Year’s Absolution (2024) is clever, at best, in its own uniquely depraved way. It’s Black Humor up to a point; but once it grows increasingly clear that almost everything transpiring is the result of the ultimate narcissist looking to start over – at least so far as one’s inner circle is concerned – is kinda/sorta loses its dark sense of play in favor of coldly and clinically choreographing the lead psychopath’s steps to a big finish. Surprisingly, however, the dog survives … and isn’t it medical science which suggests that children and small animals have the most to fear? Go figure.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Scatena & Rosner Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to New Year’s Absolution (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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