31 Days of Hell: Hypochondriac (2022) - Reviewed

Courtesy of Minutehead Pictures
2022 in film is proving to be the year of movies involving childhood trauma paving the way for a horrific psychological decline later in adulthood.  While Where the Crawdads Sing and more recently Andrew Dominik’s terrifyingly nightmarish Blonde touched on the notion of how devastating experiences at the hands of an abusive or mentally ill parent can shape a person’s outlook on life, one which slipped through the radars of filmgoers was writer-director Addison Heimann’s new debut indie horror film Hypochondriac.  

Though the disturbing psychological breakdown shocker film has done before, this is one of the first times in recent memory with an openly gay male character enmeshed in a gay relationship as the scare fest’s scream queen while also being a nervous, searing, viscerally affronting and gory nightmare picture that will linger in the minds of viewers for some time.  
 
One of the latest examples of the distinctly LGBTQ thriller that’s also broadly appealing to horror fans, Hypochondriac follows Will (Zach Villa), a young and successful gay potter living in a fancy apartment with his devoted boyfriend Luke (Devon Graye).  He gets along swimmingly with his co-workers and being pillar of strength he helps talk out of the tree employees going through their own respective panic attacks.  


However, Will has buried a dark past involving his abusive and deranged mother (Marlene Forte) who tried to kill him before being institutionalized herself.  His carefully constructed world free of the domineering insane clutches of his mother begins to unravel when out of the blue she beings blowing up his cell phone claiming Luke isn’t the nice boyfriend he thinks he is, triggering within him the beginnings of hostility leading to a nervous breakdown that grows ever more hallucinatory and paranoid as it proceeds.
 
While deriving more than heavily from Richard Kelly’s cult favorite Donnie Darko replete with a demonic furry costumed creature who may be real or imaginary, Hypochondriac nevertheless proves to be a shattering and heartbreaking horror show of a seemingly well-adjusted person completely giving in to their fears and anxieties.  

Much of the film’s strength comes from the two leads Zach Villa as the victim of a nervous breakdown and Devon Graye his frustrated boyfriend trying to make sense of his lover’s seemingly abrupt and arbitrary meltdown.  Equally strong are Marlene Forte and Chris Doubek as Will’s divorced parents with Doubek making the father figure a beleaguered soul who doesn’t mince words with his generally difficult son.

 
Visually the film will remind viewers, again, of Richard Kelly’s blue color timing in Donnie Darko as well as Anthony Scott Burns’ Come True with ethereal schemas and scenes of dark shadowy figures looming slightly out of focus over the camera.  The film also makes frequent use of blurring effects that warp or distort the image in such a way that we can barely see what’s around Will as he stumbles about in a confused stupor. 

The electronic soundtrack by Robert Allaire is a near-darkwave cornucopia of music, helping to usher in the sense of growing doom and foreboding as the film’s poor hero continues to lose his grip on dealing with ordinary everyday life.  Both elements combined help to yank the rug out from under the viewer in a steadily disorienting audiovisual experience with hints of the hyperkinetic editing of Ben Wheatley.
 
While some of the film’s openly gay and possibly furry leanings might be too much for some horror-goers including a scene that would surely earn it an NC-17 (released unrated instead) and while clearly lifting from Donnie Darko, Hypochondriac is nevertheless a uniquely affecting and kind of upsetting thriller that makes you feel this man’s encroaching malaise and feel for both characters as people under extreme duress. 


One of the better explorations of anxiety and depression in horror and a fearless foray into previously unseen visual elements and ideas in the genre, Hypochondriac is an assured and affecting horror debut that tries to put on film the struggle of reckoning with our own psychological demons to try and have some semblance of happiness and peace of mind.  Not for everyone but a refreshingly new spin on the gay male scream queen that genuinely does sink it’s bloody teeth into you.

--Andrew Kotwicki