In a Violent Nature

So guess what... A group of loud and brash twenty-somethings decide to take a weekend break in a remote cabin and manage to arouse the wrath of a long buried corpse who emerges and wreaks havoc on them and the poor old park ranger (Reece Presley). Sound familiar? That's probably because this hasn't an original bone in it's body and after about fifteen minutes I suspect you'll just think these kids actually deserve everything that "Johnny" can come up with. The victims are the usual mix of couples who are together, were together, want to be together; there's the obligatory couple of lesbians (though not for long) and way, way, too many meandering shots of the malevolent critter walking through the woods time and time again. There's some quite entertainingly graphic use of visual effects now and again as he makes good use of his chain, spike, hook and axe - but the big question is: can he be stopped before auteur Chris Nash starts thinking sequel? I suppose the moral of the story is - don't take things that don't belong to you; and maybe if this were shown in primary schools across the country, it might serve as an effective illustration of the risks of violating the seventh commandment. Mercifully, there's not much dialogue to speak of leaving us with a standard forest slasher that will be fine for wallpaper on the television after you've had a few pints.

Slasher fans are going to admire writer / director Chris Nash’s fresh and original, yet still traditional, take on the horror sub-genre with his sadistic film “In A Violent Nature.” With his distinct style and extremely unsettling movie, Nash subscribes to the Terrence Malik school of thought with a “less is more” approach, delivering a visually impactful and terrifying film that’s filled with violence, gore, and a brooding atmosphere that makes it feel wholly unique.

Johnny (Ry Barrett) is a vengeful spirit who is resurrected and ready to deliver payback after a horrific crime that occurred over 60 years ago. Johnny’s been brought back to life when a group of friends remove his treasured locket from his final resting place, a collapsed fire tower that lies deep in the woods. What follows is a methodical slaughter of the group that disturbed his locket, and it is clear that Johnny isn’t going to stop until every single one of them is dead.

Nash’s stylistic choices are so effective here, as he uses long shots of the back of the killer’s head to create a sense of dread without showing his face. He’s hulking and frightening, and being forced to imagine his appearance goes so far in conveying a stone-cold nature that leads to feral and brutal massacres.

Viewers are immersed and walking right alongside the murderer instead of the victims, creating a more penetrating, intimate, and less detached experience, a perspective that’s rarely explored in horror films. It’s disturbing, especially when you consider the killer’s lack of motivation. I was constantly asking “but why?,” and the randomness of his killing spree is what makes it so scary. Simply put, if you’re there, you’re dead.

The movie demands concentration and patience, but rewards viewers with a chilling, atmospheric experience. Heavily reliant on narrative-driven dialogue and visual imagery, the film is suspenseful and clever. Nash lets his camera observe with a detached yet intimate lens, savoring each bloody kill without being overly gratuitous. It’s the type of approach that will earn the respect of genre fans, delighting both horror lovers as well as artsy, hardcore slasher aficionados.

That’s not to say that there’s not a fair share of violence. The film features some truly gory and creative kills that are made even more horrific with Nash forcing audiences to watch the grisly brutality unfold. With zero humor to break the tension, this in-your-face experience is something that dedicated horror enthusiasts and those who savor the most macabre elements of the genre are going to love. The suspense is palpable, especially as the camera lingers on the kills in a way that makes them both artistic and heinous.

“In A Violent Nature” is classic slasher flick with a twist. It’s suspenseful, clever, and innovative in its storytelling.

By: Louisa Moore / SCREEN ZEALOTS

The horror movies of the eighties and their thematic descendants in the early two thousands are clearly classics for a reason. These tropes work because they actually are scary. This movie uses all of the classic gimmicks and tropes and does so very well. It is a joy to watch a slow-paced slasher that thematically works and calls upon those older classics. The casting for this is perfectly reasonable, the directing is good and the effects are practical and outstandingly fitting. It is great to see and I can highly recommend this movie.

(CASTELLANO)
Un slasher que camina como un videojuego maldito

Me gustó mucho. Después de tantos slashers tontos, repetidos y llenos de víctimas haciendo estupideces, esta me pareció una sorpresa enorme precisamente porque cambia el punto de vista. La historia es sencilla, casi mínima, pero tiene una idea formal muy potente: seguir al asesino, caminar con él, mirar el bosque desde su espalda y convertir la matanza en una rutina lenta, brutal y extrañamente hipnótica.

Lo que más me atrapó fue esa sensación de videojuego en tercera persona. Durante buena parte de la película parece que tú eres Johnny: avanzas por el bosque, escuchas ramas, localizas a la siguiente víctima y sigues caminando con una calma terrible. No es el típico slasher donde ves a los chavales separarse, discutir y tomar decisiones absurdas. Aquí casi todo eso queda fuera. Lo importante es la presencia del monstruo, su trayecto y esa violencia que avanza sin prisa.

Ese cambio de mirada refresca muchísimo un género que parecía gastado. La película no inventa la figura del asesino imparable del bosque, pero sí encuentra una manera distinta de filmarlo. Johnny no aparece solo para dar sustos: está ahí casi todo el rato, como una fuerza de la naturaleza. Lo vemos andar, caer, recibir daño, recomponerse y continuar. Por eso su invencibilidad no parece un truco barato, sino parte de su condición de espíritu despertado.

La idea del colgante funciona muy bien como detonante. Le quitan algo que pertenece a su madre, alteran su descanso y el bosque vuelve a soltar una violencia enterrada. No hacen falta grandes discursos: alguien toca lo que no debía, Johnny se levanta y ya no hay forma sencilla de apagarlo. Incluso cuando parece que devolverle el colgante podría cerrar el ciclo, la cosa ya está en marcha.

También me gustó que las muertes tengan personalidad. No son solo cuerpos cayendo uno detrás de otro, sino escenas pensadas con una imaginación macabra. Algunas son salvajes de verdad, de esas que te hacen mirar la pantalla entre fascinado y asqueado. La del bosque partiendo la cabeza, la del sheriff con la máquina, la forma en que convierte cada objeto o espacio en una posibilidad de destrucción… ahí entiende muy bien el placer perverso del slasher.

Y aun así no me parece solo gore por gore. La violencia impacta porque llega después de caminatas largas, silencios, sonido ambiental y una espera casi absurda. Esa combinación entre contemplación y brutalidad es lo que le da personalidad. Puede que a muchos les parezca lenta, y lo entiendo, porque Johnny anda muchísimo. Pero a mí esa lentitud me metió dentro del mecanismo: cuanto más camina, más inevitable parece.

El sonido es fundamental. Al haber poca música, cada ruido del bosque pesa: pisadas, hojas, respiración, golpes lejanos, voces fuera de campo. A veces el horror no está delante de la cámara, sino en saber que Johnny sigue avanzando aunque todavía no haya llegado. Esa paciencia la distingue de muchos slashers que solo buscan el susto rápido.

También me pareció acertado que las víctimas importen menos de lo habitual. En otra película eso sería un defecto enorme, pero aquí forma parte de la propuesta. No estamos siguiendo su drama; estamos siguiendo al asesino. Los jóvenes quedan casi como NPC de un juego: hablan, cometen errores, intentan tender trampas y creen que pueden sorprenderlo, hasta que Johnny les da la vuelta y los convierte en parte de su recorrido.

El cambio final de punto de vista, cuando la cámara se pega a la superviviente, me pareció muy inteligente. Después de haber ido tanto tiempo detrás del monstruo, volver a la perspectiva clásica del slasher se nota muchísimo. De repente ya no estás en modo cazador, sino en modo huida. Y ese desplazamiento da al tramo final otra tensión, más humana, sin romper lo anterior.

El último plano con el bidón de gasolina y el colgante me gustó especialmente. Tiene algo de cierre circular, como si todo volviera al lugar del que salió, pero también deja la sensación de que la violencia puede quedarse dormida y despertar otra vez. No hace falta un gran discurso final. La imagen basta: el objeto, el bosque, el silencio y la posibilidad de que el ciclo no haya terminado.

No es una película perfecta ni para todo el mundo. Tiene tiempos muertos, personajes secundarios casi inexistentes y una historia muy básica. Pero justo ahí está parte de su gracia: despoja el slasher de adornos y lo deja reducido a caminar, acechar, matar y seguir caminando. Para mí eso no fue un vacío, sino una forma distinta de mirar algo que ya había visto mil veces.

Al final, me queda como una de las propuestas de terror más originales y estimulantes que he visto en bastante tiempo. Me gustó por su punto de vista, por su ritmo raro, por su aire de videojuego macabro, por Johnny como entidad casi imparable y por unas muertes con imaginación brutal. No solo me entretuvo: me hizo pensar que ahí hay un filón enorme. Y eso, en un género tan machacado, vale muchísimo.

(ENGLISH)
A slasher that walks like a cursed video game

I really liked it. After so many dumb, repeated slashers full of victims doing stupid things, this felt like a huge surprise precisely because it changes the point of view. The story is simple, almost minimal, but it has a very powerful formal idea: to follow the killer, walk with him, look at the forest from behind his back and turn the massacre into a slow, brutal and strangely hypnotic routine.

What grabbed me most was that feeling of a third-person video game. For much of the film it almost feels as if you are Johnny: you move through the forest, hear branches, locate the next victim and keep walking with a terrible calm. This is not the typical slasher where you watch the kids split up, argue and make absurd decisions. Here almost all of that stays outside. What matters is the monster's presence, his path and that violence moving forward without hurry.

That change of perspective refreshes a genre that seemed worn out. The film does not invent the figure of the unstoppable killer in the woods, but it does find a different way to film him. Johnny does not appear only to deliver scares: he is there almost all the time, like a force of nature. We see him walk, fall, take damage, recover and continue. That is why his invincibility does not feel like a cheap trick, but part of his condition as an awakened spirit.

The idea of the locket works very well as a trigger. They take something that belonged to his mother, disturb his rest and the forest releases a buried violence again. No big speeches are needed: someone touches what they should not have touched, Johnny rises and there is no simple way to switch him off. Even when it seems that giving the locket back could close the cycle, things are already in motion.

I also liked that the deaths have personality. They are not just bodies falling one after another, but scenes designed with macabre imagination. Some are truly savage, the kind that make you watch between fascination and disgust. The one in the forest splitting a head, the sheriff with the machine, the way every object or space becomes a possibility for destruction… there it understands very well the perverse pleasure of the slasher.

And yet it does not feel like gore just for the sake of gore. The violence hits because it comes after long walks, silences, ambient sound and an almost absurd wait. That combination of contemplation and brutality is what gives it personality. Many people may find it slow, and I understand that, because Johnny walks a lot. But for me that slowness pulled me into the mechanism: the more he walks, the more inevitable he feels.

Sound is essential. Since there is little music, every forest noise matters: footsteps, leaves, breathing, distant blows, voices off-screen. Sometimes the horror is not in front of the camera, but in knowing that Johnny keeps moving forward even though he has not arrived yet. That patience sets it apart from many slashers that only chase the quick scare.

I also thought it was right that the victims matter less than usual. In another film that would be a major flaw, but here it is part of the proposal. We are not following their drama; we are following the killer. The young people almost become NPCs in a game: they talk, make mistakes, try to set traps and think they can surprise him, until Johnny turns it around and makes them part of his route.

The final shift in point of view, when the camera attaches itself to the survivor, seemed very smart to me. After spending so much time behind the monster, returning to the classic slasher perspective becomes very noticeable. Suddenly you are no longer in hunter mode, but in escape mode. And that displacement gives the final stretch a different, more human tension without breaking what came before.

I especially liked the last shot with the gasoline can and the locket. It has something of a circular ending, as if everything returns to the place it came from, but it also leaves the feeling that violence can fall asleep and wake up again. No great final speech is needed. The image is enough: the object, the forest, the silence and the possibility that the cycle has not ended.

It is not a perfect film, nor one for everyone. It has dead spots, almost nonexistent supporting characters and a very basic story. But that is also part of its charm: it strips the slasher of ornaments and reduces it to walking, stalking, killing and walking again. For me that was not emptiness, but a different way of looking at something I had already seen a thousand times.

In the end, it remains for me one of the most original and stimulating horror proposals I have seen in quite a while. I liked it for its point of view, its strange rhythm, its air of a macabre video game, Johnny as an almost unstoppable entity and its brutally imaginative deaths. It did not just entertain me: it made me think there is a huge vein there. And in such an exhausted genre, that is worth a lot.