Cult Corner: Scarecrows (2017) - Reviewed



Every now and then, you come across a slasher that does NOT contain the tired old clichés – the group of young friends with raging hormones out on a camping trip, the obligatory virgin and slut and their horny boyfriends, the lack of a good GPS…you know the drill. Sometimes you find a horror film that does not play into those predictable themes. 

But this was not one of those times.

Scarecrows holds every commandment in the Bible of Boredom dictating slashers of the past few years.

Canadian director/ writer Stu Stone disappoints again, as he did in The Haunted House on Kirby Road. The latter entertained my attention for no more than 11 minutes. Contrary to the assumption that Mr Stone’s plethora of previous projects – as actor, writer and director – would allow him to explore deeper, he fails to do anything special here as well. Apart from the technical aspect of camera and sound, which is solid enough to be considered a higher quality indie, Scarecrows is sadly forgettable.

The film’s synopsis fits into one sentence – ‘Teenagers are kidnapped and made into scarecrows that are left to die in the crop fields’. That should give the viewer an indication of the amount of planning and thought that went into the writing of this film. Let’s just say that Oscar Wilde would not be impressed with the dialogue and the acting is terrible. Of course, the killer is mute. Cliché. Are writers too scared to give the bad guy some wit these days or is it just to hide their deplorable writing skills?




Impotent attempts at humour are regrettably the best part, the only part that makes the clumsy, faceless characters bearable, and A-cups and cellulite are only scary in a porno, Mr Stone. 

Scarecrows had a subject that presented endless potential for truly grotesque scares and mystery, but all it manages to scare off are viewers who appreciate original story lines and unique characters. Oh, and the perpetually irritating and senseless ‘hello’ in the worst situations? Can we make a horror law against this preposterous exclamation? We all know this, yet writers and directors get funding to perpetuate the illogical insult on our intelligence.

Movies like Scarecrows will have any fan of true horror (those in the old books, for instance) laugh aloud at the absurdity fed to us while we sing along the done-to-death phrases we know ahead already. Take heed – by the rules of this film, apparently oral sex renders one completely deaf. 
On the upside, the lighting is good.

--Tasha Danzig