The Sacrament (2013)

Finally, a decent example of post-modern found footage horror. Let us make this the third relevant step in the subgenre thus far: 1) the original and best Cannibal Holocaust by Ruggero Deodato, 2) The Blair Witch Project and 3) Ti West's The Sacrament. These three films have presented to us unimaginable terror through the medium of handheld footage, and have done so to such admirable effect that I feel they warrant this three-step programme in FF.

The synopsis of The Sacrament will almost certainly ring bells for many people. Some people may actually remember the real events upon which the movie is based occurring. I was gripped by the premise of a mockumentary about a guy who is invited by his sister to visit the strange cult village she lives in, and the madness that goes on within. OK, lemme just throw it straight out there. Kool Aid. There we have it: the Jonestown massacre of 1978. Once I'd finished being thrilled to hell by The Sacrament, I went and googled it, and soon found the reason the story seemed so familiar to me, and watched several absolutely soul-crushing documentaries on the tragedy. Let there be no mistake: this movie is, at times, painful to watch, and not in any gratuitous, explicitly savage or violent way, but in often quietly disturbing moments, with a wholly crushing sense of dread building from the outset. It is, in this way, that it is amazingly effective.

For my birthday this year, I was given (after much hinting) the Shameless DVD release of House On The Edge Of The Park by Deodato (Cannibal Holocaust), and whilst powering through the special features, an interesting lecture came up, held by some English film professors, with the director and actor Giovanni Lombardo Radice present. These professors had been commissioned to examine the results of violent movies on audiences, and this was one of the titles they looked at. Their findings were interesting: most people were disturbed by brutality and control inflicted on vulnerable characters. Surprisingly, mostly Ricky. His character is the secondary antagonist, who answers to Alex (David Hess), and he comes across as mentally challenged. Where the audience could, for the most part, accept the violence going on between the fully functioning adults, they were uncomfortable with the young, virginal Cindy getting caught up in the trouble, and the obvious manipulation of a mentally incapacitated man.

The story of Jim Jones, the wacko proprietor of Jonestown, shows bold and consistent themes that ran throughout the guy's life. He always had a knack for sniffing out vulnerable people, who felt outcast and ill-fitting, and giving them a place where they belonged. As a child, he actually was one of those sickos who got off on torturing animals. And when shit hit the fan, the dude ran. The really disturbing element of The Sacrament, rather like with HOTEOTP, is that the victims' vulnerability is what throws them into the arms of evil people. It's a classic abusive relationship. The abuser is dominant, and presents themselves as an escape, a refuge, which the victim dares not try to escape, for fear of what's on the outside being worse than the inside. The relationship is ruled by fear, isolation, insecurity. And what kind of place, we come to ultimately ask, must a person be in to feel like killing themselves, their friends and children, is the best, or only, option.

Something I came to notice only after I had watched this movie and gone on to learn about the incident through documentaries, was that The Sacrament is practically a shot-for-shot recount of the real incident, with names and dates changed to protect those (very very few) still living. Not that this is really necessary, but still...they had to fictionalise something. Patrick (Kentucker Audley) is a photographer, who receives a letter from his recovering addict of a sister Caroline (Amy Seimetz), inviting him to visit her at Eden Parish. It's one of those places that the residents refer to as a 'community' when we know it's a total freakin' cult. Patrick's two buddies, Jake (Joe Swanberg) and Sam (AJ Bowen) are professionals in media and looking for a compelling story.

My boyfriend said to me when the guys first arrive at the 'community', "They have a watchtower. Only one kind of place has a watchtower." While the residents willing to speak to the crew rave about the freedom and peace that their new home has given them, a distinctly ominous tone is set with the introduction of the Jones figure, here named The Father, on the first evening at a village meeting. He has agreed to be interviewed by the guys, luring them into an intense exchange somewhat reminiscent of Dr Lecter's psychic musings. Father is played, with a thrashing undercurrent of menace, by a wonderful actor (ironically) named Gene Jones. A 60-something balding fellow with immeasurable manipulations behind those dark glasses, Father is an astonishing character, played with measure and daring by Jones. He embodies the macabre evil that slowly decays his character, and is frighteningly similar to the real Jones.


As mentioned, the movie is a distinctly accurate reconstruction of the massacre, so the details need not be disclosed here. But the film crew get out alive, as did one or two of Congressman Leo Ryan's people back in '78. But the interactions and manipulations that festered in that town and brought on its imminent demise are painfully crafted by West, leaving the audience gripped in fear and horror and despair. You witness the movie's finale as a desperate, helpless onlooker, mouth hanging open for minutes at a time. If the Titanic had been sank deliberately by a mad captain, the situations would begin to be comparable. It's a level of horror that transcends horror: it's tragedy. As helicopter shots capture the shrinking patchwork of whole families, lying face down on the ground, arms about each other in dying embrace, masses and masses of people, it's like having been plucked from Hell and stuck on a bird's shoulders, to be nothing more than a silent, rescued witness of the aftermath of murder. The Sacrament is utterly sombre, and unforgettable. It is brilliant.