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| Images courtesy Shudder |
In Greek mythology, the Erinyes (more commonly known as Furies) are female deities of vengeance. These three sisters — Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone — would exact revenge upon mortals for their wrongdoings and have appeared in classical texts like The Iliad. They are also what sets Travis Stevens’ A Wounded Fawn apart from the countless number of other horror films that take place in a remote cabin. Combining these classical Greek characters with classic horror tropes, Stevens has a unique approach to storytelling and suspense that undoubtedly works.
Bruce (Josh Ruben) is a charming but deeply troubled man who is a “ladykiller” in more ways than one. He is compelled to kill beautiful women thanks to horrendous visions he has of a monstrous owl-like creature, and he’s been getting away with it thanks to his guile and good looks. He decides to take his new romantic interest Meredith (Sarah Lind) up to his bougie cabin in the middle of nowhere for a weekend getaway, and Meredith quickly regrets her decision. Strange occurrences keep startling her, and she slowly begins to realize that Bruce has bad intentions. Just when it seems like Bruce might have another victim with Meredith, the roles of predator and prey are suddenly reversed when he becomes haunted by the women he’s previously killed.
The most interesting aspect of this film is how surreal and jarring it becomes once Bruce becomes prey to the vengeful undead women. The film establishes that Bruce has stolen a statue of the Erinyes persecuting Orestes from one of his victims, and the women who return from the grave echo the essence of these Erinyes. Part Greek chorus and part Lynchian nightmare, these women assault their assailant with the fury of the Furies, simultaneously assaulting the audience’s senses. Combining bizarre imagery with jump cuts and loud, sudden noises, the final 30 minutes of the film are an unsettling dive into Bruce’s psyche, while the lines between his imagination and reality are constantly questioned. The designs of the strange characters we encounter are a perfect blend between modernity and classicism, and they go a long way to give the film a unique fingerprint.
The film also knows how to build suspense masterfully. The first few scenes of the film establish that Bruce is a serial killer, and Sarah Lind does a great job in building empathy for her character Meredith quickly, so the audience immediately knows that she’s in for trouble during their weekend alone with him and root for her. The more supernatural elements are subtly hinted at through her eyes and seem innocent at first, then slowly grow sinister as the night progresses.
One misstep the film makes is giving the audience too much of a good thing in its culmination. While the imagery of the vengeful victims is undeniably impactful, they are shown so much in the final 30 minutes that they start to lose some of that impact. The mystery surrounding their presence wanes and they begin to feel commonplace the more screen time they have. Their monologues also seem a bit heavy-handed at times and don’t add much to the story after it’s established who they are and why they’re tormenting Bruce. Had Stevens shown more restraint with these characters, their scenes would have packed more of a punch and they would have appeared more ominous.
A Wounded Fawn is a breath of fresh air to the often overdone premise of bad things happening in the woods. It’s not what anyone would expect from the get-go, and this is its strength. This slick psychological horror film is worth a watch for anyone who enjoys revenge tales, and it gets bonus points for having one of the boldest choices for an end credits scene in recent memory.
-Andrea Riley
