From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Lola is trapped. She is trapped in life, work, and now in her older brother, Lou's, house with his unbalanced roommate, Cage. When the city of Los Angeles shuts down for mysterious reasons, a packet of seeds show up on their doorstep, giving birth to an alien plant. What secrets does this plant hold? Will its answers set Lola free? Or will it drive this trio to madness?”
From what I understand, Lovecraftian Horror – named after its widely acknowledged creator H.P. Lovecraft (1890-1937) – is a sub-genre of the main category that deals mostly with unfathomable. These terrors tend to explore the plight of protagonists who struggle to comprehend the mechanics of a world around them that neither looks nor acts the way ours does. While these stories might have some of Horror’s usual tropes, I’ve read that their narrative tends to focus more on the abject dreadfulness of the characters’ circumstances and not the usual thrills, chills, and spills. There’s an otherworldliness to it all – one that defies conventional explanation – and this serves as a focal point when the players come together.
That’s about as apt a description as I can give for the substance of Terror Firma (2023), an independent Horror/Fantasy written and directed by Jake Macpherson. I’ve read some suggestions online that the flick was a bit of a darling on the film festival circuit, and I don’t doubt such assertions: the low-budget approach to heady ideas often garners an extra bit of attention from brainiacs who frequent festivals. I have found, however, that such acclaim typically doesn’t extend to more mainstream audiences, the kind of folks who pony up a couple of bucks while expecting to understand all of what they see, of which I usually consider myself. So, yes, I’ll admit that Terror Firma was a bit too elusive for me to give it any enthusiastic praise, but I’ll try to focus in on what worked versus what didn’t as briefly as possible.
Lola (played by Faye Tamasa) finds herself without a roof over her head at the exact time martial law is declared in Los Angeles. Thankfully, her adoptive brother Louis (Burt Thakur) has an extra room he can spare, but this will mean that she’ll also be sharing common space with Cage (Robert Brettenaugh), a potentially violent and self-destructive roommate who isn’t above violating Lola’s personal space if it means he might garner himself some desperate affections in the process. Together, the three of them hunker down for this unexplained Apocalypse, never thinking of questioning the voices of authority that boom out via loudspeaker from helicopters passing overhead.
But on her way to Louis’ home, Lola discovers a glistening black-petaled flower that has grown out of the soil in isolation from other plants. Not knowing what to make of it – is it natural, is it alien, is it part of the reason our planet has gone into lockdown – she moves along and reaches safety.
However, each of them process their respective exhilarations differently, with Louis growing the most enraptured with it. Eventually, he injects himself with it, and – while it’s never explained – he’s physically transported to another plane of existence, one that somehow resides down the hole from which the transcendental medicine was magically produced. Both Lola and Cage – who is also growing more and more mesmerized with the experienced ecstasy – can speak to the man by talking into the opening, but is there any means with which to get him back?
If you haven’t noticed, then let me assure you bluntly that – ahem – Macpherson never attempts to explain any of how this world works, where it originates from, nor why it has evolved. Like the mysterious lockdowns, the seed, the jelly, and the states of altered consciousness are little more than screenwriting magic; and it’s probably best that no one look any deeper as answers never come. Suffice it to say, viewers are given one enigma after another and are expected to just ‘roll with the punches’ across this increasingly confusing landscape. Eventually, Cage gets – ahem – personal with the hole (yes, pun intended); and the result is another one of those black flowers Lola stumbled across in the opening. So are we to believe that someone had relations with a hole in the street to set all of this in motion, or could there possibly be a more conventional explanation? Don’t worry … as we’ve never told.
Eventually, Cage crossed the threshold into psychopathy, and he seeks to have Lola all of his own despite his previously established fondness for having sex with the dirt. The young woman manages to find her own way into this other reality – which essentially amounts to a lot of visual postproduction trickery involving Louis’ house and an even larger hole in the ground – and she figures out the mechanics of transversing between the two worlds, giving her a chance to save her brother from his fate in the ether. There’s still that whole business with Cage to be resolved, and it’s only some quick thinking by our heroine that ultimately rescues the two of them from their roommate’s homicidal behavior before it’s all too late.
As I’ve said (or, at least, strongly suggested), I’m no fan of treading lightly in worlds that make little sense. I can forgive a bit of narrative trickery here and there, but I’ll always insist that stories are thematically made stronger by giving audiences clear and concise answers even if that requires them to swallow a little bit of sugar alongside that dose of salt. Terror Firma could’ve been made a better experience is Macpherson and his cast minimally had a single scene that hammered out such details, thus taking the audience with them on this fantastical journey in full knowledge of what was happening in each moment in time. But because that never happens, the film retains this overwhelming sense that it was all made up in progress, so much so that no character really has a scene that feels fully scripted for effective delivery. About the time when I thought I had a firm grasp on this altered reality, something else changed – or worse, a seemingly established rule was broken – and I had to do a bit of a reset. Eventually, I just went with the conceit that “this isn’t meant to be clearly understood,” and I turned off my gray matter … something I never like to do.
Despite my shortcomings with the script, I do think that Tamasa handled her role admirably. In an era wherein alpha females have become the norm and males have been sacrificed on the altar of identity politics, she still struggles to overcome the oppressiveness of isolation, finally securing a family worth fighting for in the last reel. Brettenaugh, too, manages a level of creep consistently throughout the piece, almost to the point wherein viewers were probably expecting him to pull out a blunt object and just kill anything within arm’s reach whether he was attracted to it or not. Granted, it ain’t easy to muster up a romantic attraction to a mound of dirt, but even in that circumstance the actor seems entirely at ease with his descent into madness even though Cage believes ‘all is good.’
Terror Firma (2023) was produced by Capture Theory. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Visual Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be pretty good consistently: there’s a good deal of optical effects once Lola and Louis are in this shadow world, and I’m not entirely convinced the best choices were made throughout those sequences. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The Blu-ray boasts a director’s commentary (a bit light) along with an extended Director’s Cut, some behind-the-scenes galleries, and the theatrical trailer. It’s a solid assortment.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Though I’m a professed fan of both low-budget and independent genre efforts, I still found it hard to embrace Terror Firma mostly because it posed a lot of interesting questions yet posited no authentic answers. I’m all for subterranean parallel realities, but minimally they should function off rules that are accessible to the viewership and (maybe even) compel audiences to think about the nature of reality versus “surreality.” Here, it seems like the ideas are used as little more than a construct to weave a personal drama involving ‘the new normal’ family all against the backdrop of perplexing surroundings (i.e. martial law, dystopia, alternate dimensions, etc.); and, frankly, I needed to know a bit more.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Terror Firma (2023) 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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