Ah, Faceless After Dark—where horror meets cringe, and the lines between sanity and batshit crazy are so blurred, you’d need a GPS to find your way back. Let’s break it down, shall we?

The movie kicks off with Bowie, a one-hit-wonder horror actress, known for her role in a killer clown flick. She’s not exactly thriving—more like existing on the fumes of her past “glory.” Conventions, creepy fans, and a girlfriend who’s too busy being a Marvel starlet to give a damn about Bowie’s spiraling mental health. It’s all pretty bleak.

But just when you think it’s going to be another typical “actress in peril” trope, things take a turn. An obsessed fan, decked out in the clown gear that made Bowie famous (because why not), breaks into her house. This is where you expect a tense cat-and-mouse game, but nope—Bowie turns the tables, and shit gets weird.

She doesn’t just kill the dude—she goes full-on psycho, using the incident as a springboard for her own snuff film revenge fantasy. Bowie starts luring in men who’ve harassed her online, giving them a taste of their own medicine… before she murders them in cold blood. It’s like Joker met Promising Young Woman and then took a bunch of bad acid making everything fucking neon.

This movie is meta. The setup is a bit on the nose with given Bowie is played by Jenna Kanell, who has starred in the Terrifier films featuring, you guessed it, the psychopathic Art the Clown. The film seems to be Kanell’s big middle finger to toxic fandom, the horror genre, and maybe even herself. There’s a lot going on here—fame, mental illness, the pressures of social media—but it’s all wrapped in a thick layer of snark and gore.

On one hand, the film is a cathartic scream against the creeps who think it’s cool to slide into a woman’s DMs with dick pics and threats. On the other, it’s a critique of the industry that chews up and spits out actresses once they’ve served their purpose. It’s deep, it’s dark, but it’s also a fucking mess.

The writing? Well, Kanell and Jacobs clearly had some stuff to get off their chests. The script is filled with venom—towards the industry, towards the fans, and maybe even towards themselves. It’s personal, and it shows. But it’s also uneven, with moments that are so on the nose you might as well call them nostrils… dad joke y’all.

Jenna Kanell is the reason to watch this movie, no doubt about it. Her portrayal of Bowie is raw, unhinged, and at times, downright uncomfortable. She makes you feel her rage, her despair, and her utter contempt for the world around her. But—and this is a big but—Bowie is also an insufferable character. She’s hard to root for, and not in a cool anti-hero way, more like a “why am I watching this?” way.

The supporting cast? Forgettable. Even Danielle Lyn, who plays Bowie’s girlfriend Jessica, feels like she’s just there to remind us how much Bowie’s life sucks in comparison. The stalker clown dude? He’s more of a plot device than a character.

Raymond Wood, bless his heart, really tried to bring some style to this clusterfuck. Visually, the movie is striking. The neon-soaked scenes and strobe effects do a great job of disorienting the viewer, much like Bowie’s mental state. But here’s the thing—sometimes it feels like the film is trying too hard to be artsy, when really it just needs to tell a coherent story. Stop throwing glitter on a turd! It’s still a turd!

Faceless After Dark is like a bad relationship—you know it’s not good for you, but you just can’t quit it. It’s got some solid strengths: Jenna Kanell’s performance, the bold visuals, and the guts to tackle some heavy themes. But it’s also a shitshow of uneven writing, a plot that can’t decide what it wants to be, and a protagonist who’s more grating than gritty.

The biggest critique? The movie feels like it’s trying to say something profound, but the message gets lost in the noise. It’s a revenge fantasy, sure, but one that’s so wrapped up in its own cleverness that it forgets to be fun. And let’s face it, when you’re making a horror movie like this, fun should be high on the priority list.

Faceless After Dark is a mixed bag. If you’re a horror fan with a penchant for meta commentary and don’t mind a protagonist who’s about as likable as a hemorrhoid, give it a shot. But if you’re looking for a coherent, satisfying horror flick, you might want to skip this one and rewatch Terrifier instead. This movie is like that weird experimental dish you order at a fancy restaurant—sounds interesting, looks great, but halfway through you’re wondering why you didn’t just get the steak. It’s bold, it’s messy, and it’s not for everyone. But hey, at least it’s not boring.

Director: Raymond Wood
Writer: Todd Jacobs, Jenna Kanell
Released April 12, 2024