Terrifier 3

Love or loathe the Terrifier franchise, it’s hard not to admire what director Damien Leone has built over the past decade through passion and sheer force of will. What began inauspiciously as a short in the All Hallows’ Eve anthology and a subsequent micro-budgeted feature has since evolved into a bona fide cultural phenomenon; its newly released third entry implausibly opened #1 at the box office, symbolically toppling 200-million studio tentpole Joker: Folie à Deux in the process. If one feels the sense of scrappy underdog triumph is undercut by its dubious association with a film in which a poor bastard’s genitals are bisected as a chainsaw is literally shoved up his ass, well too bad - it’s Art the Clown’s world now, we’re just trying to keep our lunches down.

Lauren LaVera returns as the now PTSD-riddled Sienna Shaw, who’s spent the past five years bouncing in-and-out of various psychiatric facilities… but is looking forward to spending the holidays with her Aunt and Uncle, as well as her doting cousin Gabby (Antonella Rose). Sienna puts on a brave face as she attempts to embrace normalcy, but we can tell she’s like a porcelain ornament, crippled with survivor’s guilt, that could shatter at a moment’s notice… and that’s before Art the Clown (David Howard Thornton) and his disfigured sicko victim/muse Victoria Heyes (Samantha Scaffidi) show up to spread some homicidal Christmas cheer. When last we saw the duo, Victoria had just given birth to Art’s decapitated head on the floor of her padded cell (don’t ask)… and upon escaping the asylum, they take refuge in an abandoned building, where they seemingly enter a state of extended hibernation. Art, it seems, has unfinished business with Sienna - their epic battle of good vs evil is like a prog rock concept album - but first he has to flex his killing muscles. As graphically as possible, ideally.

Thornton’s ecstatically expressive performance feels like it has an extra limber bounce in its step throughout this picture - as if the actor can sense, giddily, that Art is poised to explode into the mainstream, the same way Robert Englund did as Freddy Krueger in the 80s. Not everyone is drinking the Kool-Aid. But a major reason people seem to connect with the Terrifier films, for all their debased aggression, is the joy that radiates from Thornton’s portrayal. The more depraved Art’s actions become, the more it feels as if Thornton’s genuinely having the time of his life. It helps that Leone’s narrative chops - never a strong point - have become at least slightly more honed. The film’s 128-minute runtime frankly isn’t much of an improvement on Terrifier 2’s gobsmackingly indulgent two-hour-and-twenty-minute frame, yet the pace feels more assured, the length less overtly oppressive. The persistent sadism can still be trying (one character’s fate - involving a glass tube, live rats, and a blowtorch - is almost breathtaking in its cruelty). But for the most part, Leone taps into more of an impish, darkly comedic vein with his bloodbath set pieces… whether it be Art putting a liquid nitrogen tank rigged with projectile funnel to suitably wicked use, or irritating college podcaster Mia (Alexa Blair Robertson) engaging in shower sex that’s rudely interrupted by Art and his aforementioned chainsaw. Terrifier’s brutal kills can often be a wearying endurance test, but this latest round manage to tickle one’s gag reflex and one’s debauched sense of guilty fun in at least equal measure. Shhh - don’t tell anyone.    ​

Still, fans who have started pushing back against the criticism that these films are essentially plotless gorefests are spirited yet overreaching (slapping a crown of thorns on Sienna’s head doesn’t equal profound religious allegory). Leone continues to idly toy with the overarching mythology (it’s understood that the demonic entity Art is partnered with has taken possession of Victoria - a just reward for loyal franchise soldier Scaffidi - though the marvelously creepy “Little Pale Girl” from part 2 is sorely missed… and not just by Spirit Halloween, which crammed its shelves with her costume this year), but these films remain about as deep as a rain puddle. There’s a long and proud tradition of Christmas-themed horror, and yet the holiday feels as ill-fitting with the Terrifier series as the Santa suit Art dons for the majority of the picture. The vibe is queasy (it also undercuts the liberal use of synthpop that elevated the last film - when “Chrissy” by Dreamkid plays over the end credits, it hits like a drug). Once again it’s up to the astonishing LaVera to do the heavy lifting. If there was any lingering doubt that Sienna Shaw deserves to be spoken of in the same breath as Laurie Strode and Sidney Prescott, that’s been well and truly put to bed - what LaVera puts herself through emotionally and physically in these movies is virtually unrivaled (almost Christ-like in her suffering - that much the defenders got spot-on). She may not have her iconic valkyrie armor this time, but she’s no less of a warrior-angel. There’s a rare level of synergy at work between final girl and slasher villain here that feels special. Terrifier 3 ends on a cliffhanger, one that suggests the next installment will literally take Sienna to the depths of Hell and back. All I can say is - bring it on.